A dear friend of mine just adopted three beautiful children. She and her husband are beyond excited for their journey as a family.
The love she embodies for her children is like watching the sunrise in the morning or traveling down the sunlit canals of Venice (my dream). The love she displays is breathtaking, warm, inviting, nurturing and most of all, authentic.
This friend of mine loves to talk about her children, simply because she’s such a pleased mama.
One night we were talking and she was bringing me up to date on her children & family, since we hadn’t talked in a while. I’ll never forget the words she spoke that brought me to tears.
I was preparing for bed when I noticed a strange sound emerging from the kitchen.
I was exhausted from the demands of the day and desired nothing more than rest.
But the sound would not go away. It called for my attention. I walked back to the kitchen from my bedroom and sure enough…it was the sound of our smoke detector crying out for a replacement battery.
Too tired to address the issue, I took the battery out, assuming the bothersome sound would cease.
To my surprise, the chirping continued. I removed the smoke detector from the ceiling, and did something that surprised even me.
It’s Good Friday, but Sunday’s coming. In just two days, Sunday will be here, but not just any ordinary Sunday.
You see, this Sunday, we will mourn the death of Jesus, yet celebrate His life.
This Sunday, the limitless power of our Lord will be proclaimed.
This Sunday, we receive a refresher on New Testament theology in light of Jesus’ autobiography.
This Sunday, we will receive the invitation to worship our Savior for the things He has done and the things He will do!
The world seems to get brighter and happier around Easter Sunday- but also very superficial:
We make Easter about a folkloric figure, beautiful clothes, and delicious candy. It becomes more about the famed Easter bunny, rather than Jesus.
I know because over the past couple of years, I have adapted to the more superficial way of thinking about Easter. It is one of my favorite holidays. I love decorating eggs, making Easter baskets, and having a legitimate excuse to eat pounds of candy and multiple plates of food at dinner time. I love dressing my daughter up for church and watching her twirl around in her beautiful spring attire.
I have let Easter weekend come and go without truly centering my heart and my attention on Jesus and His story. But this year, I feel compelled to take a different approach.
And to be honest, it’s not easy. I don’t always look forward to Sunday’s coming.
We were completely caught off guard when our daughter was diagnosed with acute eczema. My husband and I did not know the first thing about managing eczema.
Sure, we knew what the pediatrician told us: “Lessen baths, apply steroid creams, and keep the skin moisturized with Aquaphor.” But what happens when this plan does not work? What happens when you find out your child’s skin condition is a result of severe food sensitivities? What happens when you are required to eliminate the top 8 allergens from your diet? What happens when you can no longer use certain detergents and cleaning supplies, because they make your child itch and ooze? What do you do? Here you are, required to change so much, all at once, with no clue where to start. Trust me, I know the feeling all too well. It is overwhelming and incredibly stressful. So, why not start here. Continue reading
To be honest with you, I had never heard of the term Atopic Dermatitis until my daughter was diagnosed during her 3 month well care visit. Never in a million years did I or my husband expect to experience such grief and turmoil from this skin condition. It cost us many sleepless nights, lots of money, countless tears, and major frustration.
Atopic Dermatitis, also known as eczema, is a skin condition that causes the skin to become inflamed and itchy when exposed to a triggering substance. Some people experience mild symptoms, and others, more severe symptoms. In our case, our daughter experienced acute symptoms.
In order to help relieve our daughter’s discomfort, we were informed by our pediatrician to apply steroid cream, lessen baths, and keep the skin moisturized. This is just what we did; to our surprise, our daughter’s skin condition worsened. We went back to the pediatrician several times, and at one point, the emergency room. NO ONE was able to offer helpful solutions or explain what was happening to our daughter.
Her skin (head to toe) was red, itchy, swollen, discolored, flaky, and extremely dry. There were a few occasions where we would find our daughter covered in blood due to scratching herself incessantly.
Today, I was thinking of publishing a happy post. You know, something upbeat, funny and not as deep. But, I felt led to share a little bit of my journey with postpartum depression. Maybe there’s someone out there today that needs to know that they are not alone: and so here I am, showing up, and allowing myself to be seen, so that together, we can persevere and overcome.
Sometimes, blocking out painful memories is a relief, but today, I am allowing myself to sit in the raw tension of my journey with postpartum depression and allowing others to enter into this space with me.
I feel my muscles tensing and tears rushing to the forefront of my eyes, because all I can remember is how dark and gloomy those days were. They were filled with what seemed to be uncontrollable anxiety, sadness, and feelings of hopelessness.
To the boy or girl whose father is involved, I say to you, “What a privilege!”
To the boy or girl whose father is deceased, I say to you, “I grieve that loss with you.”
To the boy or girl whose father is absent, I say to you, “He missed out.”
Lastly, to the girl or boy who longs for their daddy, I say to you, “I know how badly it breaks your heart.”
There is something within human beings that makes us long for our fathers. We were created to NEED and WANT our daddies, pops and papas.