I'm words, he's numbers: Thoughts from the mind of my man

I don't have a perfect marriage. In fact, my pregnancies take their toll on our marriage. I feel so miserable and pukey-bad for the first 4 - 5 months, love the middle 8 or 9 weeks, then I slip into that slightly-less-comfortable-than-a-beached-whale phase for the last 2 months.

Needless to say, I'm cranky for a lot of the time that I gestate our babies. My sweet husband fills right in where I leave off, taking care of kids, laundry, housework, you name it. But it's hard on him.

By far, this has been the hardest pregnancy for both of us.

Add to that that I'm a woman of many words and my husband is, well, a man of less than many words. Especially when he's thinking about something.

Typically I vomit my words all over him, holding little to nothing back, letting every passing emotion sweep across my lips like a flash flood in a monsoon.

But Luke, he's a thinker. I learned a little trick a few years ago on how to move from being a talker to a listener when I'm with my man. It's invaluable for understanding, hearing and really listening to my husband. (Maybe one day I'll share it with you all, if my husband promises not to act like he knows my secret.)

Anyway, just because my sweet man isn't much on for sharing his thoughts and emotions, doesn't mean they don't exists. Before we got married, I'd only seen him cry one time. He shed a few, tender tears during our wedding ceremony. Then, he cried when he found out his dog had died and when we found out his grandfather was in critical condition, likely to die within a matter of days.

Otherwise, he was cool, calm and collected (unless there's inclement weather, then not-so-much). This life of few words, and even fewer raw emotion was the norm. That was, until we had kids. Now, my man isn't afraid to have or show his emotion. And I love it. I love it so very much.

Even though emotion flows easily for him now, he still isn't one to pour out words. Maybe it's because he can't find the right ones or maybe it's because he likes to really make sure he's sure before he speaks.

I think it's because, in our relationship, I'm words, he's numbers.

Today, I got this email from my thinker husband. It brought me to tears and to my knees to thank my Lord that I have such a man who values our children as much as I do and who sees them as the blessing they are. Glory be, how I love this man of mine.

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From Luke today, via email:

So I find myself crying, sobbing, on the way to work this morning. I would apologize for being a man that cries, but I have learned to embrace these kinds of emotions. “You see Billy cried, because, well, he is a crier.” Through certain circumstances I was able to take my oldest daughter to breakfast this morning. As I am in the car driving, images begin to flash through my mind.

• Elizabeth (age 7) being able to get herself completely ready. She took extra time this morning to ‘look nice’ for daddy.
• When I get home from breakfast I see Ella, our youngest (age 2), getting out of the shower {I will not give any more details on that point}.
• I said “see ya” to my very pregnant wife, carrying our soon to be youngest daughter.

You see, this pregnancy has been different for me. In the past, I have taken the role of caring for the older kids and didn’t stop, nor have much time, to think about our new child on the way. With the kids being older now, things are even busier, but it is easier for all of us to spend time together. With this, I am able to enjoy each child and the beauty of what each one holds.

As I am looking through the windshield I think about my 7 yr old daughter and how she showers me with so much love each and every day. Then I remember how proud my 2 yr old was for me to see her being a ‘big girl’. Then I begin to think of our newest daughter on the way and the moments of joy she will bring me as a father and I don’t even know what they are yet.

All of this brings me to the Throne of God. Humbled he would entrust me to make decisions for these children that will shape there lives. Thankful he would bless me with smiles across a breakfast table, naked babies soaking wet with a huge smile, and to feel my daughter move in the womb. I have such a large responsibility to be a Priest, Profit, Provider, and Protector for my family. God equipped me today.

Eye of the Storm (guest post by Luke)

I guess Luke figures that if I'm not going to blog, he will.

Below is a post he emailed me after a crazy morning yesterday. I sure do love this man of mine.

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We are asked many times how we raise, disciple, and shepherd many small children all at the same time. The true answer is: I feel like we fail about 99% of the time.

So………….. this morning everyone needs to be woken up so they can go to CBS (Community Bible Study). To fulfill the role as the leader of our home I want to encourage the kids and Jessica to go. One of the ways that plays out (in our home) is for me to get the kids started on getting ready to go to CBS.

Well this morning I woke up late (read – I stayed up to late watching meaningless baseball and talking to the TV). So the day is not starting well for this Type A person. I get ready and make it down stairs to work on breakfast. Ashlee and Lucas come down stairs and want toast for breakfast. While this may not seem like a big deal, this turns into making toast for about 15 minutes. As soon as you get one piece ready, they have already eaten the other piece and someone else has found (smelled) their way into the kitchen and now wants a piece. So my first instinct is to not let them have toast. You see, breakfast is normally to throw a bowl of cereal in front of everyone while we comb hair and put shoes on.

Rather than get upset and frustrated (like I wanted to) God gave me the patience to talk to my children. I said to Lucas and Ashlee, “I want to make you toast, but I am going to need your help getting Aaron and Olivia up and dressed.” I turn around and they are gone, helping there brother and sister get ready. By this time Elizabeth is awake. She quickly jumps in and starts making toast, which gives me time to get Ella ready. So I know you are thinking, where is Jessica in all of this? She is in the bathroom being 4 months pregnant on a Thursday morning (read: puking her guts up).

Up to this point I have failed to mention the kids, Jessica, my mother in law, and grandmother in law helped clean up the house last night. This in turn, gives me (Type A) the chance to get kids ready and not step on/over/under/through/matrix – things/toys/clothes/food/who knows what that was. Which in turn helps me to be more patient as the hurricane happens all around.

The underlying thing to all of this is that I have been praying over and concerned how we teach our children to love and serve others. In the eye of the storm that happened. The kids were serving each other and their parents, while their parents were able to serve each other. All with cheerful hearts might I add.

Everyone got to CBS and dad got to work a little bit late. This morning I really enjoyed my large family. While incredibly crazy, I loved every moment of it.

Mr & Mrs

It is a big church. The most grandiose in stature in the entirety of our small town. The dramatic roof lines and towering steeple sit perfectly atop rock and brick walls adorned with stained glass windows, all situated on the precisely manicured lawn.

It's a beautiful church. And every time I drive by I think about what happened inside.

I stand behind two huge wooden doors, stained to a perfect deep brown, waiting to walk down a burgundy-carpeted aisle. So much awaits me on the other side of those doors. Love. Commitment. Beauty.

The wedding coordinator adjusts my veil and the train of my dress.

Deep breath.

The organ begins to play the non-traditional melody of an Scottish tune, reminiscent of our college Alma Mater. The doors swing open, everyone stands up.

I blink.

It's 8 years later. And here I sit, mother to 6, wife to a man who loves me in spite of who I am. A husband who loves wholly, sacrificially and beyond my understanding.

In our counseling session at Candidate Week we reviewed the many statistics associated with our personality inventories, marriage surveys and some other psychological profiles that we sent in ahead of us.

"You have an over-idealized view of your marriage," the gray haired counselor told me, over the rim of her glasses.

I sat back in my chair, turning her words over in my mind, trying not to be defensive.

Really? Because I'm pretty much a realist in every other area of my life.

At the end of the session, she agreed, my marriage is not over-idealized in my very matter-of-fact head. Rather, I understand that I am blessed. Beyond what I deserve.

Blessed with a man who guards the purity of our marriage so fervently that he refuses to be alone with other women, even in the context of work, where such a conscience is often considered ridiculous.

Blessed with a leader who fears the Lord and seeks, with his whole being, to serve him, even if it makes our family uncomfortable and unconventional.

Blessed with a confidant, someone I can pour my soul out to, the nasty, dirty, raw and often ugly parts and he draws me close and prays over me.

Blessed with a protector, a guardian of our home and our children and someone who takes that role so seriously, he is willing to risk it all for the glory of the Lord.

I smell the familiar smell of the church and take in the pews, full of people. I look to the opening in front of me and see him, standing at the end of a flower strewn aisle. He smiles at me. My heart flutters in my chest. I reach the altar unsure of how I'm standing there since it seems as though my feet hardly moved.

We exchange vows and rings and we both cry. I wipe his tears. More sniffles echo through the rafters of the magnificent sanctuary.

We turn and face our family and friends. We are Mr. & Mrs.

We celebrate. It's glorious. Even 8 years later. It's glorious.

It's no fairy tale and my days are certainly mixed with their fair share of meltdowns and tears. And some days the kids cry too. :)

But we've come through so much. We've endured hardships and know that more are coming. We laugh together often. We love much. He still dates me. He still stops, through the bustle of our home, to wrap his arms around me and let me bury my face in his chest.

We argue, annoy the crap out of each other and forget things that are important to the each other. But we chose love above all else. We chose to bind our hearts together with God as the glue.

We walk out the front doors of the church, and the cold air hits us like needles. We climb inside the magnificent limousine and the driver shuts the door. I look at my husband.

It's over. Man, that went fast, I think to myself.

I adjust my dress. He grabs my hand. We kiss.

The driver starts the engine.

And then, the journey begins.

Time: A guest post by Luke

Time.

We all say we never have enough of it.

I had a conversation today with some brothers of mine. It led me to talk about having a large family and making good use of time. So..... tonight after dinner we wrestled. Yep, with six kids (well Ella just stared and wondered what all the noise was about). We all laughed at one time or another, we all (count 'em, Ashlee about 4 times, Lucas 1 time, Aaron 2 times, Olivia 4 times) cried because of pain (oh, and me about 12 times because I had 5 kids doing all they could to hurt me). At the end of it, was great family time.

Oh, but that's not all. We asked the older 3 to go get ready for bed, and naturally one listened and the other two couldn't hear a thing. I put the Aaron and Olivia down and go upstairs to find Lucas cuddled up in his bed, while the girls are playing. I proceed to tell them Lucas gets something special and the girls have to lay down (FYI - the older 3 now all stay in the same room). I lay down beside Lucas and tell him he can have an extra token (we do responsibilites and pay in tokens = really cheap payout) or I can lay with him. After he thought for a little while he chose for Daddy to lay with him.

There is still 4 loads of laundry to fold, 3 loads to wash, a van to be unloaded from our trip, crumbs to walk on in the kitchen, dishes to be unloaded...... but that was time well spent. I pray that more times like tonight come. I was a very blessed father tonight.

Super cool Dad

It takes a cool Dad to play on the slip 'n slide with his kids. It takes an even cooler one to allow his wife to take photos of him on the slip 'n slide and then post them on her blog.

What's that honey? You didn't know I was posting these to my blog?

Hummm...

Oh well.

Thanks, honey, for being a super cool Dad.

I only thought that I had this whole God thing figured out

Can I just confess you to you that God is doing major work on my heart right now?

Which, by the way, is NOT where I prefer Him working right now. I'd much rather He be working on my cervix. But, He doesn't seem to want to change that right now, so I guess my heart will have to do.

As I write this, my husband is in Atlanta waiting to board an airplane that will bring him home from a long weekend away at his grandfather's funeral. By the time you read this, he will have been home for a mere 8ish or so hours and will be back at work.

I just can't tell you how ready I am to see my husband.

(Can I just take a second or three and tell all of you single parents out there that I think you are AMAZING? Seriously? No matter the reason you are currently single (this includes you military spouses) my hat is OFF to you. I have no idea how you do life day in and day out knowing you are the sole provider for your family's needs. I commend you and I can promise you that I will spend MUCH more time in prayer for you. This weekend, I was humbled by what God revealed to me about your lives.)

But, when my husband left I wasn't so thankful. Actually, I was pretty pissed if you want to know the truth. I mean, here I am 57 months pregnant with our 6th child. The other five kids are a mere 5.5 years old and younger and one of our darling kids is pushing me to my limits. Why in the world would this man think it would be a good idea to leave me here to do life for 3 whole days - ALONE?

(Nevermind that I encouraged him to go. Nevermind that at all.)

Then, I realize that he left me a sink full of dirty dishes. AND a trashcan that is overflowing. AND a refrigerator full of uncooked food.

I mean, when I left him and went out of town for a week at least I tried to leave our house in some sort of condition where it would be easier on him. I left him frozen meals and even prepared a posse of men to come a few times after the kids' bedtimes to give him a mental reprieve.

But OH NO. He just left.

So yeah, I was pretty upset about it. And, the night before he left I managed have had an emotional breakdown over everything that is going on in our life. I might have cried because he hurt my oversensitive feelings. And, I might have been ticked off the next morning because he didn't take my breakdown seriously and instead he drifted off to sleep while I continued to cry.

(Have I mentioned that my marriage is perfect? No? Oh wait, that's because it's NOT. Close, but no cigar. I mean, mostly because of me.)

I don't say all of this to try to make my husband look bad. Because, truly, I was being selfish, I see that now. But, as I texted my BFF Amanda in an effort to "ask for prayer" (which was really just me disguising my desire to unleash on her about my husband and gossip) I realized something.

It's all about my perspective. So, I prayed a prayer I seem to be praying a lot lately.

"Father, help me to see what YOU desire me to see in this situation. It seems crazy and chaotic to me but this situation is not surprising you. So show me God, show me."

And you know what? He did. That afternoon I read this post by Katie. Actually, I read it in bits and pieces because I prefer to be hit across the face with tiny, little God slaps rather than one ginormous sized God slap.

Over the course of the weekend, He showed me that if I HAD to make it with 5 (or 6) kids all by myself, I could. He gently reminded me that somewhere in Haiti (or another disaster ridden nation), there is a Mother begging for just 1 more day with her babies.

He showed me just how much my husband does for me that I never really notice. Small things that I take for granted. (I realized that until this weekend that I don't think I've taken out the trash in probably 4 months. And, I never feed the dog.)

Mostly though, God made it abundantly clear how incredibly selfish I am. Selfish with my time and the selfishness of my heart's desires.

Why did I ever believe that being a follower of Jesus would be easy? Why did I think that looking less like the world and more like a crazy Jesus freak would be fun?

Why did I ever believe that because I am set apart within the light of God's truth that I would no longer have difficulties or struggles or even have to make sacrifices that are close to my heart, intimate with my spirit even? I so desperately want to live a life sold out to God but in turn I expected it to be easy and streamline and, well, uneventful.

Where is that Biblical? Show me where it says in God's word that giving up your own life for one immersed in His is easy?

Blessed? Yes, incredibly so. Filled with joy? Most of the time. Burden free? Hardly so.

So, sometime on Saturday afternoon I decided to put myself up by my bootstraps (which it totally figurative because I can promise you that my cankles will NOT be fitting into boots anytime soon). I decided that I can choose to loathe the entire weekend, make my kids miserable, be miserable myself and speak harshly to my husband each time we talk.

Or...

I can do life alone (as alone as you get with 5 kids) with joy. I can be supportive of my husbands need to be there for his father and family. I can joyfully look and see what God is choosing to show me during these few days alone.

And I can pray I won't go into labor while my husband is 3 layovers and 8 hours worth of plane travel away.

I was exhausted every night and I certainly didn't win any awards for Mother of the Year. But I did it. I made it through the weekend. I chose to change my attitude. And, honestly, I had fun with my kids.

My house is a total disaster and I don't know that I ever want to be pregnant and alone with 5 kids again, but we made it.

And today while my husband is back at work and life goes back to "normal" for us (whatever that is) I will choose to face our continued chaotic life looking for what God wants me to see. And how I should act in response.

Considering the alternative I'd say that's really my only option.

A Date

This past week has been pretty exhausting for me. I think being 34ish weeks pregnant and having 5 kids is starting to catch up with me.

Actually, I just think being 34ish weeks pregnant is starting to catch up with me. Seriously, I think God should have rethought the whole gestation thing. I mean, once you've had your 1st baby, I think He should have made each subsequent gestation period shorter. It just makes sense. I know what's coming, why drag it out?

Also, can someone please tell me why EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. for the last 6 weeks I wake up with a soreness that feels like I just rode a horse for the very first time the day before?

How I love my pelvic floor. NOT.

I blame Lucas and Ashlee profusely.

At any rate, I'm tired. I'm tired all the time. I'm tired when I wake up in the mornings, I'm tired when I pour bowls of cereal, I'm tired after I bend over to pick up the whatever I've just dropped for the 4,287th time.

I'm tired people.

But yesterday, for about 5 hours, I totally forgot how tired I was. I woke up yesterday, tired, and waddled to the bathroom. Then I waddled to find our laptop, opened it and found a note inside from my husband.

Tender words were written about how much he appreciated me.

"Awwwww," my little heart fluttered. So sweet.

I round up the troops and head them into the kitchen for breakfast. I pour bowls of cereal and myself a cup of coffee and reach into the cabinet to grab some new caramel flavoring I've fallen in love with. In front of the caramel is another little note, written in my husband's chicken scratch handwriting, telling me how much he appreciates me trying harder to keep the house picked up.

"Geeeee," my little brain thinks, "he sure is being a sweet man today!"

I continue through my morning of Occupational Therapy for Baby Girl and Elizabeth and I scoot out the door around noon to head out to my 34 week OB appointment.

When I get to the OB's office the secretary hands me a little envelope with my name written on it, in my husband's chicken scratch handwriting.

"Really?" I think, "How incredibly thoughtful!"

Did I mention that so far I've gotten a little teary eyed with each note (I blame pregnancy hormones)? Well, when I read the note my man left for me at the OB's office the tears start flowing.

Elizabeth asks me to read it out loud to her so I do, still teary and she says, "That Daddy! He's such a sweetheart!"

We both laugh and I tuck the card into my purse.

After the OB appointment, Elizabeth and I grab some lunch and quickly head over to the hair salon where I have an appointment. When I walk in, my personal beauty consultant hands me another card, again written by my husband.

I mean, he's earned about 1,157 gold stars for the day. I'm just so impressed with his thoughtfulness and care.

After my hair is cut an my face is melted off with hot wax, Elizabeth and I make one last stop for princess shoes and children's benadryl. While in the store, Luke calls and I thank him for his tenderness. He asks to speak to Elizabeth.

As I pay for our purchases (which ended up also including a stretchy plastic snake and a recorder - you know, like a flute) she finishes her conversation with Luke.

When we arrive home I remind Elizabeth of her conversation with Luke and she immediately launches into a full search of our laundry room. She recovers a note, hidden by my husband.

In the note I find directions to get dressed and be ready to leave our house at 4:45pm, ALONE. I spiffy myself up, pass off the evening's parenting duties to my Mom and Grandmother and crawl into my little red sportscar 15 passenger van waiting in the driveway.

I meet Luke at his office and think to myself that even if he takes me to Burger King for dinner it's been a wonderful date.

We have a NICE dinner and relaxing evening just hanging out together which also involved me crushing him in a game of NFL football on the Xbox display inside Best Buy. (He was getting trashed talked by a 8 year old who was watching our game. "You're getting beat by a GIRL!" the 8 year old taunted. And I egged on.)

We had ice cream at Cold Stone.

Then we drove home. It was awesome.

And, even though the kids and I skipped CBS today because I was so tired this morning, somehow today, I'm a little less tired.

He's good holy to me

Seven years ago today I was sipping tropical drinks, pool-side in Cancun preparing to welcome in 2003. I had a shiny new wedding band on my finger and my handsome, new husband by my side. We had just experienced a 3 day whirlwind wedding weekend. I felt on top of the world.

Could it seriously get any better?

Little did I know that it could and, because of God's grace, it would.

You see, if you've read our story, you know that at this newly-married point in my life, an intimate relationship with Christ was something that I did not possess. In fact, I felt confident that because Luke and I had made it through some pretty tough times on our own, we really didn't need anything or anyone else helping us out.

We rung in 2003 with smiles on our faces and hope for our future. I am so glad that God's plans for our marriage were so much better than our plans for our marriage. I'm so very, very glad.

Seven years later I think about the naive, young wife that stood in front of a crowded church and promised to love, honor and obey the man in front of her. And today, I am so blessed by the handsome, not-so-new husband I continue to be paired with. I've blogged much about Luke but what I would like to add here is above anything I have ever realized before. About 2 weeks ago, while were in in the midst of a vacation that proved to be incredibly stressful, I had never thought of my husband in this way. And since this revelation, I have yet to be able to see him as anything else.

It is often that people see me with all of our children and they ask, "Girl, how do you do it?" While I think that there are many answers to this question, my most common two responses are,

"God gives you what you need."

and

"I am blessed to be married to Luke. He's excessively good to me."

But now, I realize that I need to have a change in my reference of my husband. He is not excessively good to me. Rather, he is excessively HOLY to me. There is a huge difference and if you're still with me, I'd like to explain.

According to Ephesians 5 a wife is called to submit to her husband as the head of the home. In turn, a husband is commanded to "love your wife, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her" and to "love your wife as your own body."

I think so often we (I) get so hung up on the submit part that I gloss over God's command for husbands. Can I just tell you that it is remarkably easy to submit to a man who is loving you as himself? As his own flesh?

It is. Let me show you by examples in action.

When Luke and I run out of contact solution and we are down to 1 final bottle, after he uses it in the morning he will move the contact solution across the bathroom so that it is beside my sink when I'm ready for it.

When I buy new flavored creamer for my coffee, Luke will remove the paper seal under the cap when he pours his own coffee in the morning. Luke doesn't used flavored coffee creamer. He does this just for me.

When we were driving into Memphis 2 weeks ago and I just knew that I was right in my directing him to take a "shorter" route through his hometown, he quietly obliged me and allowed us to take a one hour detour through the most interesting parts of town. All because he didn't want to argue with me after 15.5 hours in the car.

He turns the coffee pot back on before he leaves so that it won't automatically shut off on me and I'm left with cold coffee.

He allows me to be mean and nasty and rude to him and then offers to rub my back because he can see I've had a bad day.

He forgives quickly often before I ever even ask.

He's slow to anger and prays for me fervently.

There is so much more but I think you're getting the picture. He loves me like his own flesh. He gives of himself just as Christ gave of himself for his church.

He's more than good to me. He's HOLY to me.

Even though I don't deserve it. Even though I'm selfish. Even though I am rarely holy back.

And since I've realized just how holy my husband is toward me I see it everywhere, in all that he does. And I realize that in the last seven years I have blessed by a man who often goes unrecognized in the little things. I have been paired with a man who desires to love me despite my unworthiness of his love.

And, most importantly, I have realized that when people ask me, "How do you do it?" my new response will most surely have to be,

"I am blessed to be married to Luke. He's excessively HOLY to me."

Happy 7th Anniversary Luke! I love you beyond anything I am capable of understanding.

Daddy Day (and Night) Care

Have you wondered just how those 6 days went while I was away, enjoying sleeping in and not changing diapers? Below is a post that Luke wrote for all of you inquiring minds. The best part about my entire vacation was the desire my husband had to caring for our children and let me take a break. I think he was just as excited about my getting a vacation as I was. If nothing else from the whole week stands out to me, it is that my husband loves me more than I could ever deserve. I am married to a remarkable man. One that loves me when I'm unlovable, takes care of me when I'm capable of doing things myself and sacrifices knowing the benefits I will reap. Sounds a lot like another Man I love. I am truly blessed beyond measure.

So, without further ado, here is Luke's take on 6 days of being a single Dad:

So you may ask what life is like for 6 days, with 5 children (all under 5 years old), while your wife is away. I have to ask myself the same question. First of all, I am not some super hero, tight-wearing, perfect dad. Several people have asked how things were, while my wonderful bride (I may have added that part) was off on a deserted island being waited on hand and foot. Everyday there were about 2 meltdowns before breakfast, 1 before lunch, 2 before dinner, and 1 before bedtime.

After we dropped mommy off at the airport, the first destination of the daddy day care bus was..... Bass Pro Shop. For those of you that know me, that, in and of itself should be funny. I must say going there at 10:00 in the morning was quite nice. There is noooo body there. I have the babies in the twin stroller and the older kids get to walk around. They all listened really well. The biggest hits were: Lucas getting to touch an actual gun, Elizabeth seeing the HUGE catfish in the fish tank, and Ashlee finding the princess tackle box. After that 2.5 hr time span (hey, they were happy and I wasn't leaving), we went to a park to burn off some more steam. We finally made it back home for naps.

That one day is the only full day I remember. Some other activities we had were: playing in the leaves, children's museum, gymnastics, church, bounce house, and my memory is gone again. We did some school work. I say some so you can insert how much you think it was. I would stay on the low side if I were you. Me being the morning person I am we were out of the house by 9:00 most days. For the first couple of days things were ok. Mentally I think it helped knowing she would be gone for a while and I had no choice but to make it work. The longer the week got, the harder things got. By the sixth day I completely failed at being a patient, loving dad. I found myself getting on the kids for every little thing. What was really hard was there was no down time. I found myself constantly correcting someone, changing a diaper, fixing something, stopping a fight, cleaning, etc. By the end of each day I was done.

What really helped during the week was starting everyday in prayer and studying the bible. The two days I didn't start my day with God I had the least amount of patience. I must say I had a lot of quality time in the word and in prayer. The distractions of work were not there, the computer was broken, and we don't have but 8 channels to watch. When the kids went down for there naps I would lay down for 30 minutes to an hour. It was so refreshing. Jessica had also pre-made some meals before she left. We had friends bring by dinners. Grandparents took us out to eat and some of the kids stayed with them 1 or 2 nights. Friends dropped in, with their kids, to bring a good distraction for my children. Two nights, guys dropped by to make sure I was still alive. Friends called to check on me, offer to go to the store, bring a biscuit buy. Friends at church helped load and unload the kids. The older kids stepped up and helped clean and helped with the babies.

After it is all said and done I would do it again. I do see the daily struggles Jessica has to deal with and it makes me appreciate and love her so much more. I am especially thankful that God has put in her a desire to be with our children day in and day out. It was a great week with my God and my children.

Leavin' On A Jet Plane

Tomorrow, I head off for an almost week long vacation all by myself. Yep, you read that right, alone. I'm heading off to see my Dad, Sister, BFF Amanda and a few other long, lost friends for 6 days, alone. Manning the children and holding down the homefront will be my wonderful husband extraordinaire.

A month or so ago when I booked my airline ticket I had no apprehension about leaving the kids and Luke here. In fact, I was almost giddy when I clicked "purchase" for my flight. However, as the day creeps closer I'm starting to have some anxiety. I mean, it will be Luke with the 5 kids, all by himself for nearly 6 days. Day and night. That's a lot for anyone to handle. I know it would be pushing the limits of my sanity. And, Luke doesn't want any help.

And while I'm sleeping in and being pampered (because I will totally play the pregnancy card approximately 1,000 times with my Dad) my sweet husband will be waking up early and going non-stop all day long. Oh sweet stomach please stop that churning.

I know Luke is capable of tending to the needs of all of our very, small children. I guess I just know how incredibly ready I am to see him each and every day at 6:00pm and he will not get that reprieve of another person coming in to divide and conquer.

And, if I'm being totally honest with all of you I have two other very real concerns. The first is that I would like for my husband to be mentally stable when I get back. I don't desire for this to be 6 days of you-know-what for him. The second is a tad more self centered. What if I get back and he's completely refreshed, the house is clean, our children are more educated and he doesn't even hint that it was one bit of a struggle?

I guess I'd prefer for the next 6 days of his life to be carefree and filled with joy. But, selfishly, I'd like to be missed and even welcomed home with tired, weary arms. I only say that because I know that when (and I say when because after these 6 days I will require Luke to get away for a few days) my husband goes on a vacation, I KNOW without hesitation that I will welcome him home tired and possibly totally worn out.

So, if you know Luke I'm gonna ask you to pray for him. And if you're a good man friend and you're reading this post, I'm even going to politely ask beg you to stop by and offer him some company. The kids go to bed at 8:00pm. I'm sure he'd enjoy a friendly knock on the door about 8:30. Even better if you bring a movie and some snacks.

Oh My Wordy, Luke is 30

Last week, Luke turned 30. In keeping with the theme of 3's and 0's I thought it would be fun to list 30 reasons why I love my man so very, very much. So here they are, in no particular order...

1. He loves Jesus.

2. He scratches itchy spots my back, even when it means he has to wake up and roll over.

3. He never makes fun of me when I'm an emotional wreck and I cry over stupid TV shows and gut wrenching blogs.

4. He doesn't nag me about only shaving my legs once a week. (And once every 2 weeks in the winter.)

5. He's a good baby Daddy.

6. He knows how to make me laugh until I pee.

7. He's not afraid to drop it like it's hot.

8. He has curly, red hair and baby blue eyes. *sigh*

9. He holds my hair back when I throw up, then brings me a cold wash cloth to wipe off my face.

10. He genuinely loves our kids, as is evidenced by his willingness to wipe their butts even when they stink.

11. He tries, every night, to stay awake past 10pm so I will feel like he wants to spend time with me.

12. He gets up at night with our kids, even though he usually doesn't remember doing so the next morning.

13. He's doesn't mind that I break wind like a man.

14. He eats at the restaurant of my choice, even when it's his birthday.

15. He makes a mean grilled cheese and bologna sandwich.

16. He holds my hand in public.

17. He looks mighty fine in a tie.

18. He will get out of bed and turn on the ceiling fan because I'm hot.

19. He will get out of bed and get some water because I'm thirsty.

20. He will get out of bed and turn off the light that I left on.

21. He knows how to use and allen wrench like nobody's business.

22. He's good at filing important papers so that I can find them when I need them.

23. He doesn't get angry when I don't re-file the important papers that I needed to find.

24. He doesn't care that I don't wear make up 99.99% of the time.

25. He squeezes the zits that I cannot reach.

26. He loves me even when I'm not so lovable and I have morning breath.

27. He respects my personal pillow space.

28. He knows I'm totally not type A and loves me anyway.

29. He can shake it like a Polaroid picture.

30. He works to pay the bills so that I can stay home all day, eat bon-bons and watch my soaps.

Happy 30th Birthday Baby! I love you.

Fatherly Faithfulness

In case you didn't notice, I didn't write a Father's Day post like I did last year. It's not because I think Luke has slacked in this past year and doesn't deserve a whole post devoted to the phenomenal job he does as a father. Actually, it's quite the opposite. I could write post after post, actually daily, on the ways that I see my husband discipling, loving and nurturing our children. He is amazing in this role on so many levels.

But, this year I was overcome with emotion for the ways that I see our children adore their earthly father. And, if I'm honest, I was a little jealous. You see, I have the blessing of having grown up with two Dads. My real Dad and I were incredibly close when I was a child. To say I was a Daddy's girl was putting it mildly. It was not uncommon for me to frequent the deer woods, the hunting club (that would be a deer hunting club for you city slickers), the local fishing pond and early morning fishing trips with my Dad. He was the man I adored and the person I wanted to spend all my time with. I loathed dresses and bows and fru-fru girl stuff (aside from the Barbie and the Rockers bus I got for Christmas one year. THAT girly-fied thing was so cool.). Anyway, you get the idea. Where my Dad went so did I. Even to his hot, sweaty job as a brick layer. I would pile up scrap bricks and steal freshly mixed concrete and lay my own brick walls while my Dad labored in the sun, working hard to provide for our needs. He is a good man and in my childhood he was an amazing Dad. As I grew into adolescence our relationship became strained and now it is virtually non-exsistent.

Then, when I turned eleven I was blessed to gain another Dad. My step-dad married my mom and immediately he and I went toe to toe. We battled for my Mom's attention and I can say that I honestly didn't take it easy on him. But, he took it all in stride and was committed to loving me despite my pre-teen hormones. And, he still does love me, just like I am his natural born daughter. He loves my children beyond a level that I knew he was able. They squeal and scream and run top-speed to the awaiting arms of their PawPaw each and every time he enters their presence. And my "Dad" (because that's what I call him) fills that grandpa role with perfection. In fact, God not-so-subtly revealed to me that my step-Dad is, in fact, the person who showed me exactly what it looks like to love a child that is not your flesh and blood. He showed me that love knows no blood line. He created the ability within me to love Aaron and Baby Girl just like I do. If for only that, I will be eternally grateful.

However, I cannot claim that I have had a sustained relationship with any "Dad" that compares to what my children get with Luke. I have never been discipled by a man in the ways of the Lord. I have never walked in on my Dad reading his Bible or praying over me. I have never had a Dad sit down and explain to me why the choices I made were unbiblical and against God's desires for my life. Oh, how my life might look differently if only I had.

So it is with that thinking that I am jealous that my kids have Luke. You see, I'm still figuring this whole mother/wife/submissive partner role out. I don't have all the answers and neither Luke nor I grew up in a home modeling Godly faithfulness. Yes, we were raised by believers, but neither of us had a mother and father who worked together to exemplify the way to make Godly decisions. My kids see that each and every day in the face of their dad. They see a man who works tirelessly to earn for us. They see a man who loves their mother without condition, even when she's undeserving of that love. They see a man who's heart is so desperate to seek God's desires for his family that he remains humbly submitted to the throne of God. I praise God for this man who fathers our children and I pray that as our children learn from his faithfulness, so will I.

For The Love of PBS and All Things Fiesta

For over a year now, Elizabeth has been asking for me to teach her how to speak Spanish. Since my Spanish is only fluent in the presence of my good friend "Jose" and his partner, "Rita" I opted out of teaching her from my own knowledge base. Instead, I took on the task at last year's Homeschoolers convention to find a good Spanish curriculum that was, er..."compatible" with my DVD player.

It was then, while I endlessly scanning the shelves for a Spanish teaching course that my "friend" Emily told me of the Spanish kits that she had at home, free for my use. I am using the term "friend" loosely with her now, or at least until she lavishes me with profuse apologies. Let me explain further.

A few months after last year's convention, Emily brought by two confetti splattered boxes, promising that Elizabeth could sit and watch, and I believe she even used the words "learn some Spanish."

Those boxes, ashamedly, sat in our garage (just where she sat them down) for an untold number of months. In fact, I distinctly remember moving those boxes inside one afternoon, not so long ago, when I knew that Emily and her children would be coming over for a playdate. After all, I didn't want her to think I was carelessly allowing them to sit in our hot, dirty garage, mindlessly collecting dust.

Flash forward to last night. Luke and I were debriefing each other about our day (okay, I was spilling forth the tireless efforts of nap time to him, looking for some sympathy). I stated to my sweet, dear husband that I thought that Elizabeth was finally, and all too sadly, outgrowing her nap. He very tenderly suggested that I use that time to show Elizabeth a video on letters or numbers or something educational.

"Well, we do have some Spanish lesson videos somewhere around here," I casually commented.

"Oh, she would love those, wouldn't she?" he added.

I agreed and thought to myself that it was just too perfect. Afterall, Elizabeth spent most of her dinner time on Sunday night at the mexican resturaunt, treating our waitress as her personal Spanish-English Dictionary.

Yes, it was time to literally dust off those Spanish lesson videos and finally regain my sanity during nap time. And today was that day.

After deciding that my mensa-like daughter should probably start on the beginner level, I open the funfetti-esque box of goodness, almost giggling to myself. I just knew that these videos would be my key to a quiet, rested, Spanish speaking house. I located "Leccion Uno" and popped it into our...VCR? (That should have been red flag #1.)

I begin with the "Introducion." Elizabeth and I sit eagerly, waiting for the abundance of Spanish knowledge to seep into her spongelike brain. The screen flashes to life and I see two people, walking along side a large body of water, telling us about how amazing their spanish program will be for our family.

"Yes! Yes!" I silently squeal, "Get to the goods!"

For what seems like an eternity (but was really only about 5 minutes), Mr. Y Mrs. Espanol continued to explain the greatness of their Spanish video program.

"Blah, blah, blah...watch these videos with your children. Blah, blah, blah...this is a family learning session...blah, blah, blah."

I glance over at my daughter. She looks at me.

"Mom, can we get to the part where I learn Spanish?" she pleads.

I concurr and find the VCR remote. I begin to fast-forward, certain that within a few moments, pearls of Spanish wisdom will begin to flash onto our TV. I fast forward more, then more, then more AND MORE.

I keep the VCR on fast forward, go to the bathroom, clean the kitchen, mop all my floors, wash 6 loads of laundry and return to the TV. Mr. Y Mrs. Espanol are STILL discussing the grandios of their Spanish lesson videos. (Okay, we all know that was a tad of an exaggeration. But I would seriously guess that the "Introducion" lasted approximately 45 minutes. 45 minutes of Mr. Y Mrs. standing in front of a large body of water. Talking. Endlessly.)

Finally, "Leccion Uno" begins. I have to say, at least with "Introducion" we had the option of watching the waves in the background or, perhaps, grass grow.

Below is the email that I promptly sent to my wonderful, darling, idea filled husband.

Dear Honey Pie,

I guess you watched those spanish lesson videos before you recommended them to me last night?

I'm sure you have.

I'm sure your idea was that it was SO INCREDIBLY FREAKIN' BORING that it would force Elizabeth to hide her face, under a pillow, thus relaxing her and causing her to fall asleep.

Or maybe you knew that it would cause such little amounts of brain stimulation, that she would not be able to withstand the state of boredom and fall into a comatose state, causing her to nap like nobody's business.

Or MAYBE, you knew that it would cause her to appreciate PBS, thus never complaining again that we don't get any of the "fun" shows anymore.

Or just maybe, you wanted her to realize that learning spanish is NOT AT ALL FUN, and anyone who comes into "our" country should buck up and learn some spanglish.

Whatever your intentions, I commend you on your efforts. Clearly she will hate spanish the rest of her life, never want to see a confetti decorated box, and ultimately, think the Public Broadcasting System is God's gift to all children, across the country.

Love you,

Your wife (who's eyes and ears are bleeding as she types this. I wonder if blood stains are covered in the laptop's 6 month warranty?)

I'm sure my "friend" Emily will be on my doorstep soon, to retrieve not only our friendship, but her super awesome confetti covered boxes. And this year at convention, I plan on shopping for a Spanish curriculum ALONE.

Priceless

Disclaimers:
- This is Luke not Jessica (feel free to stop reading...now)
- My bride is my spell check (free help only gets you so far)
- I am not a writer

We have finally started this thing we have been talking about for nearly two years. "Date night"

Date Night (Deyt Nayht) - noun.
1. An event that is on the planner, (aka. Calendar by the toilet)
2. 1 on 1 time with one of the children, (the "big kids")
3. yes mom and dad get a night out also.

Well, tonight was time for Elizabeth and daddy to get away. We get in the car and I ask Elizabeth if she would like to go swing or go see animals at the pet store. To the park we go. After doing the monkey bars about 10 times, we run back and forth between 3 swing sets. Total distance, about 1 mile.


Then for about the next 3o minutes or so, we walk around holding hands, jumping, and being silly.

Now off to get ice cream. Daddy wait! I forgot mommy's flowers. So off we go again.


Whew that was a close one. We almost forgot. While driving Elizabeth says, "Daddy, when you hug and kiss me, it makes my heart about burst." So picture me, driving down the road, tear filled eyes, and trying to stay between the 'blurry' lines. So we eat ice cream while sitting on the back of the car and enjoying our time together. Soon it is time to go home, but for now let's enjoy the priceless memories we are given.

* 2 hours
* $5.10 - 2 Cookout shakes (one was to bring home to mommy, Elizabeth had vanilla ice cream with M&M, Reese's cup, and Oreo mixed in, SUGAR ANYONE!!!)
* a wonderful wife to stay home with the other kids
Date night with my daughter

PRICELESS

Man Food, Guns and Fresh Kill

Special Time - n. (spe-shul time) - the act of Mommy and Daddy spending quality time with one of the "big kids" doing whatever the big kid wants to do.

Lucas' special time was, by far, the most interesting special time I've ever experienced with our children. On Saturday afternoon, I had purchased some flower bulbs and seeds at the dollar store. I just knew Lucas would want to play in the dirt and plant all the flowers in our very detestable flower bed.

No such luck.

Instead, Lucas' special time was all about being 150% boy.

You see, a few weeks ago it was Ashlee's turn for special time. What did Ashlee want to do? Bake a cake. There was no convincing her otherwise. So, we baked a cake.


But OH NO! Lucas wanted to have nothing to do with planting or baking or cleaning or such. Instead, he wanted to play "Fireman" which eventually evolved into the funniest, and probably most testosterone filled, evening I've had in a long, long time....er, ever (at least for the testosteroney part).

Warning: The quality of these pictures are TERRIBLE. Namely because a certain 9 month old, who shall remain nameless, pulled our camera off of the bar and now the LCD screen does not work. And, I suck at correctly focusing pictures with the viewfinder in low lighting (which you will see why such lighting was necessary in just a second).

Anyway, our evening began with Lucas wanting to play "Fireman." Very quickly that turned into "hunting" which then evolved into 2 make-up wearing RAMBO men fighting for their lives. I knew I would eventually use that Clinque "Cherry Apple Red" lipstick for something.

Taking aim

Mean faces

After both boys had their sights aligned and their shooting techniques perfected, they went on a hunting expedition.

Strategically placed throughout the house were "enemies" that they had to find and destroy. Such enemies could look sweet and cuddly, but don't let their costumes fool you.

This is a flesh eating polar bear. There used to be a person sitting in that chair. Luckily, my protectors stalked and killed him before he had a chance to sink his flesh ripping teeth into any of us.
Because of the fierceness of the "enemies" these boys had to perfect their army crawling. As you can see, perfection is in the eye of the beholder, er...crawler.

Lucas got smart and hitched a ride on the back of his wingman.

Then, they proceeded to obliterated all enemies. There was a brief moment of turmoil, which ended in Lucas saving Luke's life from Tigger the mean leopard (yes, we know he's tiger, but my kids are addicted to Tarzan right now). He still reminds Luke, as he gently pats underneath his father's chin,

"I swafed your wife dad."

To which Luke responds,

"Yes son, I know."

At the end of their hunting adventure was a prize kill of Vance the Dog. Apparently, underneath that pile-o-dog is a smell that makes grown men snarl. Lucas is obviously oblivious to the stank of fresh kill since he's such an avid hunter.

Our evening was capped off with the ultimate man food: Hot Wings. Naturally present was the ever constant staple of our dinner diet: Mac & Cheese.


So, if you're almost 3 year old son ever requests a "Princess Party" for his 3rd birthday, rest assured that it's nothing that a little fried meat, gun fire and fresh kill can't cure.

I'm still trying to figure out who had the best time, Luke or Lucas.

Yet, it's so hard to really be considered tough when you have a porcelain princess pig peeking over your shoulder.

I'm Dreaming, Of A White...Sickness

Yesterday it snowed. Yes, snow. I realize that this may not be a big deal for most of you, but for us in the South, in particular my town, this is HUGE. Seriously. Luke's bank didn't open until 11am (even though he stayed home with my sick self to tend to the youngin's). Schools closed, daycare centers left working parents to fend for themselves...why I wouldn't have been surprised if the USPS itself closed, except for that motto of theirs, something about rain, sleet, snow, hail...

At any rate, the ground was covered..sorta. It was probably no more than what you northerners would call a "dusting" but we southern folk considered it an all out blizzard. I bet the Wal-mart was slap out of bread and milk.

I was super bummed because of all the weather that this southern girl experiences, snow is the least likely to happen and yet my absolute favorite. So, I bundled up my 2.5 year old boy (the girls were, and still are, at the grandparents since this is my second visit from Mr. Streptococcus) and sent him out to play in the bitter cold with his Daddy.

Now, usually Luke's not the photographer in the family. But this time, I've gotta give him props. He did a superb job, and while I was doped up passed out on pain meds in the bed, he took pictures that made me feel like I was right out there with them. Actually, with the way those pain meds made me feel, I MIGHT HAVE been right out there with him and never known it.

Come to think of it these pictures ARE pretty good...

Lucas boots, Daddy boots.

Guess who?

Seriously. Where did this man get his photo taking skills all of the sudden?

Our Winter Wonderland (and part of Brinkley's tail).

The Other Side

Six years ago, almost to this very hour, I stood behind 2 solid, wood doors. My heart was fluttering and my eyes misty. As I stood there, with my arm looped through my Dad's, I had no idea what awaited me on the other side. Although the physical journey on the other side of those doors was just a short walk down the aisle, the memories, relationships and love that have been formed from that day to this have exceeded my wildest expectations.

The doors flung open and there stood my love, dressed in a perfect tuxedo, surrounded by our family and friends. Funny thing now, but I barely remember the long anticipated journey down the aisle to become his wife. I can hardly remember any of the details that seemed so important on that day. Time and distance has separated us from many of the people we asked to join us in our wedding party.

I wonder now, how might our marriage be better, closer and more holy if I had focused all my energy on becoming a Godly wife rather than a blushing bride. And although God's mercy and grace has proven to be the key ingredient in our wonderful marriage, I can only mourn for the days that I was so wrapped up in this world that I could hardly see my Lord beckoning me to Him.

It's only been 6 years, which seems like such a short time compared to some marriages. However, in those 6 years God has so richly blessed us with 5 healthy, wonderful children. He has blessed us financially, with way more than we could ever need. He has blessed me with a husband who desires to serve Him. He has shown me that a Biblical marriage is worth working for and submission is a beautiful thing.

As I think back to myself, the me of 6 years ago standing behind 2 wooden doors, I am so humbled at the way God has changed my heart and my life. I praise the One who had used our messed up story and turned it into something for His glory. I praise Him because He changed me, and us, to make our marriage last and become something functional.

As I watch the doors fling open on the rest of our life and the years to come, I'm still a lot like that bride of 6 years ago. I can see the place I am suppose to walk, I see the goals and dreams and fears that lie ahead. However, this time I have my arm looped through the Father's, and a Godly man already at my side. I am so honored and blessed to have shared the last 6 years with this man. And as we take steps into an unknown future, I rest assured that God is directing our steps and leading our lives.

Happy Anniversary Honey! I love you so very, very much.

In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps.
~Proverbs 16:9

He Makes It Easy to Be His Wife

I've been wanting to blog about submission now for a while. But, I found this post on Mckmama's blog and I feel that it would be redundant in posting something about it now (especially if you take the hint and click on that link). She says it so perfectly. Although their story is a little different from our story, the truths are still the same.

However, I feel that I must tell you about this amazing man that I have the honor of calling my husband. Luke isn't perfect and he would be the first to say so. However, it is only by the protection, provision and counsel from him that I able to be what I am: A Mother to 5 Very Small Children.

Yesterday, at Baby Girl's hearing, it was all I could do to keep myself from falling apart in that courtroom. There are only 2 reasons that I was able to resemble someone who is emotionally stable. The first is the Wonderful Counselor that I serve and the second is Luke.

Luke is my rock. Let me tell you, very simply, that HE makes me the wife, mother, friend and woman who strives to be holy and deeply know my Lord. He is the reason (2nd to God, of course) that I am able to mother these children each and every day. I have never, ever met a person more selfless than my husband, ever.

While most men come home and need "their" time, Luke changes from his office clothes and jumps right in with the kids, house, dishes and diapers. Luke is the one who rescues me when I've had too much of "that one" (as I casually point out the problem child of the day). Luke is the one who allows me to sob into his chest, streaky mascara and all, and holds me close as the people on the sidewalk look on. Luke is the one who leads, disciples and provides for our family. And he takes his job so incredibly serious.

Truly, Luke is after God's heart. He wants, so desperately, to serve the Lord in everything he does...in his job, as a father, as a husband and a friend. I cannot brag on him enough. Sure, he has his moments, don't we all? But the one thing I have realized in the last few months is that I don't do enough to make his life easier. I should serve him better, listen to him more and do my best to be all that God ordained when he created me to be his help meet. I don't know if I take that role seriously.

When we got married I thought I loved Luke, and I really think I did to the best of my ability. However, in the (almost) 6 years that we've been married, God has so graciously shown me what it means to TRULY love my husband. A serving love, a love that is sacrificial and a love more abundant than anything I could have ever imagined. And the best part yet...I know I've got so much more to learn.

Please don't think that I am proclaiming our marriage as perfect, it is not. BUT, what I have discovered about myself and this wonderful man to which I'm married, is that TRUE love is a choice. Luke chooses to love me despite knowing all there is to know about me. He loves me because of the man he is and the God he serves. He loves me when I'm unlovable and cares for me when it could be easier to walk away.

I write all of this not to pump up Luke's ego (because he rarely reads my blog anyway) but rather to challenge myself and to challenge you. If you are married, tell your husband TODAY what you admire about him. Tell him the things that he does that are worthy of respect. Tell him, with thoughtful words, how much you need, adore and cherish him. NOT because he HAS to love you, but because he chooses to. Pray over him, pray over his job, his relationship with the Lord and his role(s) as husband, father, friend and son. Pray that he will feel the enormity of the role that he plays in your life and the life of your family. And, as you store these things up in your heart, cut him some incredible slack. I know that I am often so quick to judge and correct Luke in ways that I should not...a harsh tone, an ugly look, a hurtful comment. Because, I know that if ever the situation arose, he would offer his life for mine, without a second thought.

He is truly a man with my heart in his hands and he makes it so easy to be his wife.

Our wedding day: December 28, 2002

Oh Baby, if we only knew then what we know now, then we'd really be laughing!

The Story of Us: Part 10

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9

Because of my obsession with having things even, I had to post a part 10. Okay, okay, I don't really have anything else to add, but I thought I'd go out on a limb and see if anyone had any questions about our story.

I will try to answer them, and I will even allow anonymous commenting.

Don't be offended if I don't answer your question, although I will try to answer all of them that I can, as thoroughly as I can.

So...here goes. Ask away!

**Commenting on this post is now closed. However, if you've read all other 9 parts and have questions or comments, please feel free to email them to me at beaverbunch (at) gmail (dot) com.

Thanks!**

The Story of Us: Part 9

Read these first:

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8

One weekend, Luke and I were laying in the bed talking about baby things. Okay, I was talking and he was probably clawing is eyes out. I wasn't even through my first trimester and EVERYTHING was about the baby. As we laid there, I thought to myself,

"We can't do this alone. We can't just raise this baby alone. We need a plan. We need direction. We need something bigger than us."

I was finishing up my first trimester when we went to the new members class at our church. I was still very apprehensive about this whole church thing. I mean, I knew there was a God, but I just didn't think that he cared about me and my day to day life. I figured he was of solving much bigger issues like World Hunger or Cancer. Nonetheless, Luke and I wanted to see what this church was all about. It was a Baptist Church and I had particular issues with the fact that women could not be considered for deacons.

Poor Bob (he's one of the associate pastors at our church), I think I really gave him a hard time. I kept harping and asking questions about why women couldn't be considered deacons and how was that Biblical. I had "came" from a Methodist church where there was a woman minister. Who did these Baptists think they were? Regardless of my attitude, we actually did make some friends that day. Sarah and Luke bonded over the love of mint chocolate chip ice cream and Phil and I bonded over our hatred of such nastiness. They invited us to their newly married Sunday School class. In there, we made even more friends.

Although I still had my guard up, these people seemed normal. They weren't perfect either and most of them were actually a lot like me. I was shocked.

Some Christians have a defining date, a moment that they KNEW that they had met their Savior. I don't have one of those stories. For me, just like with every other relationship I've had, falling in love with my Lord was a process. Slowly, things in me began to change.

I had a hard time letting go of my past, letting go of the dirtiness that plagued my heart. I kept waiting for the proverbial "other shoe" to drop and for God to really let me have it. I cannot pinpoint for you the moment I realized that my God is one that loves me for who I am, despite my countless failures, but the peace that came with that knowledge was overwhelming.

Just days before my second trimester began, Luke and I decided to join Rich Fork. As we walked forward, my heart raced. I didn't fully understand what this meant, but I knew I liked this place and these people. Since Luke had grown up in the church, he had been baptized as a middle schooler. I was baptized at 10, but remembered virtually nothing about it. With our joining the church, I decided to be re-baptized.

With Elizabeth growing inside of me, I publicly declared my belief in Jesus Christ and followed through with baptism. Once more, the change was not instantaneous for me. Slowly, God began working on my heart and our marriage.

I still didn't understand the whole "Christian" thing, and I had several moments of doubt. However, I began to understand what my BFF Amanda had said about a 3 strand cord. That 3rd strand had been missing in our marriage.

In it's absence, dishonesty, mistrust and confusion stood in its place. Now that God was that 3rd strand, the mistrust began to fade. I no longer felt the overwhelming desire to check Luke's email, browse through his call history on his cell phone or look in his car for signs of her. As pain from the past faded, it opened up new possibilities for Luke and me. We could now freely talk about things of the past, things we loved about our childhood, high school years and how we had experienced life. So much of that had been forbidden territory because of the jealousy and hurt that I felt each time our pasts were brought up.

Now, almost 6 years and 5 kids since our wedding day, I cannot imagine my marriage without God as the center. I've come to realize that God is loving and caring and, most of all, my Father. I see that Luke and I NEED God as that center strand, so that we can be held together. I cling to Him with the knowledge that He is the reason my marriage works. Without hesitation, I can say that had I NOT come to a deeper understanding of God and Christ, my marriage would not still exist.

The fear, mistrust and pain that used to burden my heart and from which I carried such baggage, has been taken up by the One who understands all pain. Our marriage isn't perfect, and neither am I. In fact, in writing this story of us, I must be honest in telling you that I have not picked up my Bible in almost 3 weeks. Yes, we still struggle in a lot of areas.

However, our marriage used to be bound by love. I have found that love can fade. Our marriage used to be bound by the physical. One day, the physical WILL fade (sad, but true). Our marriage used to be bound by fear. Fear that if we didn't make it, it would scar us forever. Fear is paralyzing. Now, our marriage is held together by the One who is the strongest binding agent available.

All those times that I desired to be rescued were not in vain. I have been rescued. I have been ransomed. I have been bought at a price. Our marriage has been saved. I love seeing how, each day, God makes our marriage new. He takes the bad, the good and the just plain ugly and weaves it together for His glory. He reveals His miraculous mysteries in ways that I could have never imagined. The contentment I feel within my heart and my marriage is like nothing I've ever felt before. It cannot be of the flesh, it must be of the Spirit.

I am not perfect, I am incredibly and exhaustingly flawed. I deserve to live in continual pain, but because of grace I have been rescued.

On August 3, 2004 we welcomed our first daughter into the world. Then, on May 30, 2006 Lucas and Ashlee joined our family. June 6th of this year our precious Baby D was born and on October 9th, Baby Girl was born.

Although "Our Story" is far from over, this is the point in the game where most of you already know our lives. Somehow, Luke and I manage to keep our marriage first. Above all else I have prayed that God would allow us to preserve our marriage through these hectic years. God continues to show His goodness. He has molded Luke into the wonderful husband and father that I am blessed by daily. And, He's even done some work on me, making me more humble, self-sacrificing and less anxious.

I pray that if you have gleaned nothing else from our story, that you have come to know us a little better. I hope that you have seen that our pasts are far from perfect and our "love story" is anything but a fairy tale. In the years that we have been together we have cried many tears, buried a few loved ones and mostly just grown up. It is my prayer that you will see us for who we are, incredibly flawed, hopelessly imperfect and totally surrendered to a mighty God.

As you read over what I have written to you, you'll be able to see for yourselves into the mystery of Christ. ....The mystery is that people who have never heard of God and those who have heard of him all their lives .... stand on the same ground before God. They get the same offer, same help, same promises in Christ Jesus. The Message is accessible and welcoming to everyone, across the board.

Ephesians 3:4-6, The Message