You're Just Right

A few evenings ago, we were putting Kieran to bed when he said, "Wait, Mommy!"

This is something he has started doing recently–most likely a stalling tactic for bedtime. :) We have humored him for the most part, and one of us will sit down with him for a couple of minutes and talk about the high points of our day. Often, I just listen as he babbles about whatever is on his mind:  the blankets in his bed, the jammies he's wearing, or the special treat he had that day. On this particular evening, Kieran said something to the effect of, "I'm too cold. My blankets are nice and cozy. I get too hot."

"You're just right," I replied.

And as I sat there listening to him chatter, I realized just how much I meant that. For all the struggles we have in our day-to-day learning and growing, I would never change any of the intrinsic traits that make him him. I love him for his strengths and for his weaknesses. I love him for what he has been, what he is, and what he will be. I love him because he so completely fills the place in my heart that only he fits.

I couldn't help but think that I need to take those same words and plant them in my own heart, as well. I need to whisper these words of truth every morning when I wake up, every time I look into the mirror, and every time I fall down in failure.

"You're just right."

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I am not perfect. There are so many ways I could be more. I could be stronger, wiser, more patient, more loving, more gracious, more humble, or more thoughtful. But God, in His infinite wisdom, has made me–for all of my strengths and weaknesses–just as I am. He has given me the things that make me me, for better or for worse. He knows me. He sees me, and He still waits for me, prodigal daughter that I am. He takes me in His arms and says, "I will give you strength. Run to me and find the wisdom you seek. Remember My longsuffering, my steadfast love, and my grace that never runs dry. Remember my Son who humbled Himself and thought of you above His own comfort. Listen to Me–hear Me–and know that, in Me, you can be enough."

Because you're just right.

"You are on purpose and you have a purpose." –Annie Downs

I Know Who You Are

Sometimes life just doesn't make any sense.

We struggle to wrap our minds around pain and loss and suffering that seems too intense to bear. And while there are a myriad of ways we wade through sorrow and tragedy, today is the day we set aside to specifically remember the smallest members of our families who hold such an expansive place in our hearts.

We can list all of the statistics, but the truth is that statistics cannot take us to that moment when tears spill over as that sweet mama or dear papa realizes that their child–a unique and beautiful blend of two people–will never say his first words or take her first step. As parents, they will never see them walk into their first day of kindergarten, hear about their first crush, watch them walk across the stage at graduation, or see them give their heart to another.

But it's not just a dream that dies. It's not like losing a job or house. It's more like losing a finger or a thumb … or an arm or a leg. A part of you has ceased to exist. You heal. You learn to cope. And, over time, there are moments and perhaps even a whole day or days where you don't really take the time to reflect on the kind of life you have adapted to. But no matter what you do or others do for you, what was lost cannot be returned to us.

When I got to see our sweet baby, Asher, he was only seven weeks and three days old. One week later, my body no longer carried our first child. But I oh-so distinctly remember the awe and wonder of hearing his heart beating from inside of me. My first glimpse of Kieran was at nine weeks; at 12 weeks and three days, my eyes soaked in this sight of Elias.

This photo absolutely amazes me.

I had no idea that I would be able to see that much detail when I wasn't even visibly pregnant yet. At a time when so many dismiss this fragile, yet intricate body as a vague, formless group of cells, my Elias--who has brought so much joy to our lives--had his tiny thumb to his lips. My mama's heart cannot look at this picture of him without feeling the strongest urge to protect him. To whisper to him even then that he is loved and wanted and cherished and known. That there has never been nor will there ever be anyone like him. That no matter what we decide in or out of courtrooms, had this been the only time I had ever seen him, he would still be my child. That love isn't defined by days or weeks or months but by the simple truth that I am and forever will be his mother.

Another blogger puts it this way:

It was six months after my son was born that the reality of abortion became more than a vague concept in a world that didn’t directly affect me. It became an undeniable and unavoidable truth that invaded my heart. I was driving down our simple suburban street, and I looked up in the rearview mirror at the reflection of my infant in his car seat. He was sucking on his pacifier and watching brightly colored animals dance from the bar above him.

Overwhelming grief came over me. The thought of precious babies just like my own who laugh with tiny tummy songs and smile with toothless grins not tucked safely in car seats, but in trash cans and zip lock bags and coolers at the hands of their own mothers was more than I could bear. Abortion is real, and while I drove the speed limit with my baby buckled carefully into his car seat, children like mine were dying.

As we recognize all of those struggling with infant and pregnancy loss and infertility, there is a raging inferno of emotions on either side of an issue that has produced so much hate and violence that it seems we who claim to be on the side of precious life have chosen to not only decry the act but the women who enact it.

Abortion is murder, and the women who choose it shed innocent blood. Surely there is no greater sin.

How could we not–especially we who have so deeply grieved our own losses or the losses of those dear to us? And, yet, a loss is a loss. I cannot speak for the women out there who have chosen to, been pressured to, or coerced into ending the lives of their babies. But when something that was once full is emptied and something–someone–that was once whole is broken, how can that not leave a void? And how many women who have chosen abortion grieve in secret on a day like today?

… I am sorry. I am so sorry for shame that you have had to carry alone. I am sorry that I… that the Church… has not done a better job of pursuing you in your pain. That we have shunned and rejected and thought of the babies and not the women – you. Because the truth is… 

God loves you. He isn’t mad at you. There isn’t anything you could ever do that would cause Him to stop loving you, because there wasn’t anything that you could do to earn His love. It is free. It is the scandal of a God full of grace that pursues a sinner with nothing to gain for Himself but a relationship with them – you – me. He wants to heal the places of shame that creep up in your heart. He wants you to come to Him and find peace and restoration and forgiveness. 

He wants to set you free from years of secrets, from hidden burdens, and from crippling shame that says you will never be able to walk in the forgiveness that is available to you. The greatest lie of the enemy of our souls is that God doesn’t love us. It is a lie as old as time itself, and it is nothing more than that – a lie.

If you ask me, I will say that I choose life. I choose the life of my children, always. And I would choose the life of every other child, too, if I could. But I also will say that I choose to love the lives of those who did not make the choice I would have made.

I hope that one day most people can look at that 12-week photo of my now almost one-year-old baby and see his value. One day, I will show my boys these pictures and teach them about just how precious life is. And I hope I can truly show them the value of life by loving the brokenhearted–just like God does.

"Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands …  (Isaiah 49:15-16).

Refreshed and Recharged

I have a few blog posts in my head that have not made their way out yet, so I thought I would tide you over with what's been going on with our little family lately. More specifically, here is what is going on with the littlest member of our family.

This adorable ten-month-old boy has been growing in leaps and bounds, it seems. He no longer has army crawling as his only mode of transportation, he can also crawl on his hands and knees if he has a mind to. He loves to pull himself to standing and can, thankfully, find his way back down to his knees or his bottom most of the time. Elias has been able to say, "mama," for awhile, and he can also say, "dada," "uh-oh," and "bath" (although I'm a little unsure on that last one).

He loves to eat and can even get a spoon in his mouth if all of the circumstances are working in his favor. He likes eggs, fruit, sweet potatoes, squash, chicken, roast beef, noodles, and all manners of crackers or cereal. :)

As a family, we are trying to soak up the last rays of this transition from summer to fall, enjoying some time outside whenever we have the chance.

Because I remember silly things like that, Jordan and I celebrated our ten-year dating anniversary along with our 7 1/2 year wedding anniversary. Jordan's gracious mama babysat our children for us so we could go out to our favorite Thai restaurant and have some good one-on-one time, followed by my first jamocha shake in three years at our favorite coffee shop, Burgie's (this is hand-scooped ice cream and real espresso, my friends!).

It was good to have some opportunities to reconnect this weekend, as I have really been struggling lately with how I have been doing as a parent (and a stay-at-home parent, at that) … but that's for another post. All in all, I am so glad that God gives us times of refreshment when He knows we need them the most. We all need to recharge sometimes so we can jump back into our jobs, our families, and our ministries with renewed vigor. 

He never lets us run dry.

"By his divine power, God has given us everything we need for living a godly life. We have received all of this by coming to know him, the one who called us to himself by means of his marvelous glory and excellence." ~2 Peter 1:3

Recipe Ready: Chicken Bacon Ranch Pizza with White Garlic Sauce

It's been three weeks since I last posted, and that was about me finishing the Couch-to-5K program. I seriously have not run since then (my foot had me out for awhile, but now I have no excuse), so it's only fitting that I post another recipe for you—and not exactly one you would want to eat before a run. :)

I have been in love with the chicken bacon ranch pizza from Pizza Ranch and the gourmet chicken garlic pizza from Papa Murphy's for awhile now. I wanted to make a pizza that had a garlic sauce like PM's pizza, but still had that bite from the ranch. So, I did what I do best:  I took my favorite things about different recipes and melded them together.

I wish I had step-by-step photos for you, but when I cook a meal that I haven't done any prep for ahead of time, there's a lot of bribing with cartoons or Cheerios until Jordan comes home to distract the kiddos. … Anyway, without further ado, here is the recipe all you facebook commenters have been waiting for.

Chicken Bacon Ranch Pizza with White Garlic Sauce

While I like wheat crusts and pan crusts, I thought that a simple, white crust would be best for trying this pizza. Since we're not going for a really thick crust here, we don't have to let it rise very much, which is nice if you're short on time.

Ingredients:

• White crust
• White garlic sauce
• 1 whole skinless boneless chicken breast (about one pound)
• 1/2 pound sliced bacon
• 1 - 1 1/2 cups chopped tomatoes
• 1 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
• 1 cup shredded cheddar cheese
• 1/4 cup chopped green onions
• Prepared ranch dressing

White Crust:

• 1 tbsp cornmeal
• 2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
• 3 1/2 tsp quick-rising dry yeast
• 1 1/2 tsp sugar
• 3/4 tsp salt
• 1 cup very warm water
• 1 1/2 tbsp vegetable oil

Combine flour, yeast, sugar, and salt in a mixing bowl. Add oil and 3/4 cup of the water, and start your dough hook on low. As the mixture combines, determine if you will need any of the last 1/4 cup of the water to incorporate all of the ingredients. Once everything is combined, allow the hook to knead the dough for 4-5 minutes, until smooth and elastic. Alternatively, you can just mix it by hand and knead it on a lightly floured surface (it's okay if it's still a little tacky, but it should pull away from the counter cleanly). Cover; let rest for at least 10 minutes in a warm area.

Before you start your sauce, preheat oven to 425°F. Lay 1/2 pound of bacon in strips on a cooling rack placed onto a cookie sheet. When oven is ready, place bacon in the oven for 12-14 minutes; let rest before finely chopping.

White Garlic Sauce:

• 1 whole chicken breast, filleted and finely chopped
• Olive oil
• 3 tbsp butter, divided
• Salt
• Pepper
• Garlic powder
• 3 tbsp flour
• 1 1/4 cups milk
• 2-4 garlic cloves
• 2 tbsp fresh or 2 tsp dried basil
• 1/2 cup shredded or grated Parmesan cheese (shredded is better if you have it on hand)

Coat a large cast iron skillet or other large skillet in olive oil over medium heat; melt 1 tbsp butter in pan. Season chicken with salt, pepper, and garlic powder, and add chicken to pan. Cook chicken until browned and no longer pink in the center; set aside. Add remaining butter to pan chicken was cooked in, and scrape up brown bits until butter melts. Slowly whisk in flour until no lumps remain. Gradually whisk in milk. Add salt, pepper, garlic, and basil. Mix in Parmesan cheese and mix until cheese has melted. If sauce seems too thick, whisk in more milk, as sauce will thicken as it stands. Remove from heat.

While chicken is cooking, sprinkle flat baking stone with cornmeal. Place dough in center of stone; roll within 1 inch of edge. Bake in preheated oven for 5 minutes.

Remove crust from oven and spread garlic sauce on crust to within 1/2 or 1/4 inch of edge. Sprinkle the bacon over the sauce, followed by the cooked chicken, then the cheeses. Sprinkle tomatoes over the cheese, and place in oven for another 10 - 15 minutes, turning at 10 minutes. Sprinkle green onions and drizzle ranch dressing over pizza before serving.

Bon appetit!

You Don't Have to Go Fast … You Just Have to Go

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I DID IT!!!

I am now a Couch-to-5K graduate!

Couch-to-5K Plan

Getting back in shape after baby number two has proven a lot more difficult for me. … Perhaps it has something to do with spending the greater part of three years being pregnant. Still, I seemed to bounce back last time with quick results once I started working out, so I have been somewhat disappointed. At the beginning of June, I decided to start running, even though I haven't run consistently since before I got pregnant with Kieran. And (let's be honest here) the longest I have ever stuck to a consistent running schedule is a couple of months. Oh, and did I mention that I had never run more than a mile and I detested the very thought of that?

I started with one-mile runs; my goal was to work on decreasing my mile times. My first run was June 6th, and a couple of days later, I posted this on facebook:

The other night, I ran for probably the first time in thee years (I've exercised, just no running). My time to run just one mile was awful. Tonight, I ran for the second time, and my mile decreased by 45 seconds. ...Maybe there's hope for me yet. 

My first mile was an impressive 12 minutes, people! At one point, I think I got down to 10:30, but a few weeks in a friend told me about the Couch-to-5K (C25K) plan; I looked into it and jumped in at week four. I was kind of glad I got to skip all of the really boring-looking intervals. Since I don't have a smartphone, I had to map out my runs ahead of time and keep track of my intervals myself. And since I am incredibly, incredibly slow (shout out to all my friends who have never reached five feet), I decided to train based on distance, rather than time.

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Some runs have been wonderful, but many have been hard. I am super stubborn, so that works in my favor, but I want to be so much faster than I actually am. And the more I run, the better I feel in some aspects, but old injuries and aches and pains seem to enjoy paying me a not-so-friendly visit. However, I do love the challenge and the feeling I get when I meet one of my goals.

Never in my life have I ran two miles. I did it for the first time today and was hoping I would come in at or under 20 minutes. I finished in 25:08--but by that time, I was just glad I finished at all!

And, of course, the final goal:

COUCH-TO-5K COMPLETE!!! Three miles in 36:22. #C25K #fitforlife #insertinspirationalfitnessmantrahere

I'm so glad I started this journey and proved to myself that I could do something I never thought I could or would do. I am not sure that I will ever classify myself as a runner (I know, I know, "You run. You're a runner."), and while I have lofty ideas of someday doing a 5K to 10K training, I am not sure my poor joints are built for long distances. Whatever challenge I take on next, I know that when I get discouraged I can look back on this one and say, "Remember what you did there?"

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