Wednesday, April 6, 2016


The house is being packed up.  I am sitting surrounded by boxes, bare walls, empty counter tops.  I am overwhelmingly sad and nostalgic as I think back over these last 6.5 years.  So much life has happened in these walls, so many struggles, so much heartache, so much joy.  We have experienced laughter and tears, highs and lows, crushing despair and immeasurable joy.  We learned the fullness of Christ and His promises and faithfulness.  There will never be another first home.

Saying goodbye is just as hard as I expected.  As I sit here late at night with quiet for the first time in what seems like weeks, and I able to reflect and look back on this time together.  Our marriage grew so much in this home, outside the bubble of easy life and careless days.  We have faced so much together, and God has carried us through.  This little area of land became my full time home while on bed rest all those months, became my home and place of work when the boys came home 2.5 years ago.  With 2 years of isolation, I have spent more time inside these 4 walls than anywhere else in the world.  And for those years, these walls WERE my whole world.  I am going to desperately miss it. **Trying not to cry....trying and failing miserably...

These past few weeks have felt like a whirlwind.  We've had showing after showing, planned last trips and things I wanted to do "just one more time."  The schedule has been full.  And for the most part, it has been wonderful.  The boys have loved all the trips to the parks and museums, play dates, and time with their friends.  This week started with a trip up to Blowing Rock, my happy place.  The mountains will forever be my place with Reagan - my last trip before complications started with her pregnancy, our last fun trip away, our little babymoon.  And every time I go, I just feel such a sense of peace, of knowing that God is with me.  This time, it was in the stillness of the pond and the little purple wildflowers growing along the path.  Leaving the close proximity to the mountains, to Blowing Rock in particular, is one of the huge drawbacks to moving.  I just love it there.  Our car ride home, though, was filled with the sounds of our living children.  Of endless (literally, endless...) crying from one child, constant whining and complaining from another, and some seriously sound sleeping and snoring from another.  The car ride was anything but peaceful, and by the end I felt that all too familiar throb in my head and a little twitch in my eye.  Andrew was on a conference call and he was equally as frustrated with the sheer volume of our car.  And yet, I was filled with peace (which could ONLY have come from Christ, as I would normally have wanted to rip out my hair).  Peace and love for my children, appreciation that Dean was able to whine using so many words when we doubted if he would ever speak.  Appreciation that Hannah had no lung weakness as she put that to the test and confirmed that she is strong enough to scream for 2+ hours.  And appreciation that Warren sleeps like the Savant men, that despite the chaos around him he was able to find rest, waking only once to calmly state "Hannah's crying" before drifting off again.

I came home and I wanted to hug my children, I wanted to cling to them and never let go.  I was so grateful for each of them.  Being in my Reagan place always puts things in perspective.  Having those moments to feel close to our oldest daughter, remembering where she is and what she is doing, and remembering WHY she is able to live out eternity in heaven is so wonderful.  This Easter season, recognizing the sacrifice of giving up ones only child, just leaves me in awe and wonder.  My love is flawed and selfish at best, and yet I would still do anything to have Reagan with me.  I cannot fathom choosing to be separated from her, and then choosing to put my judgement on her.  I can't even imagine how painful that would be.  And I am so thankful that because God chose that, because Jesus was obedient, I get to spend eternity with my daughter.  I love springtime and the reminder that comes with that.  And so, driving home, my heart was full.  I was emotionally and physically exhausted, but completely and utterly filled.

Oh, and Hannah turned 5 months!  Poor child... We got some good pictures before the craziness started.  And she is still such a sweet little girl, and easy going for the most part.  We really ask a lot of her, to wake her from naps after only 20 minutes sometimes for showings, to expect her to sleep in a car/carrier/my arms/the store/etc as the world still revolves around these crazy boys.  But she seems to handle it all in stride.  She now rolls all over the place and won't stay on her back for more than a few seconds if there is no one interesting to look at.  She likes her feet, her thumb, and any number of rattles/plush toys.  This child is not picky when it comes to her toys.  She'll take a lego if that's all I've got for her.  And we are working on sitting, though she tends to just fold right in half and rest with her head on her toes.  Aww, to be that flexible...

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