Going On a Field Trip!

Last week, I got to join Ellie and Nina on their school field trip. It was a hot day at a farm, but it was so much fun!

I took lots of pictures, and so you get a photo-dump post today!

Of course I asked the girls to pose, and Nina is a more willing participant, since she is not running around all over the place (which is actually something I appreciate about CP, Nina actually gets to hang around and I spend more time with her)

The plan was to use Nina's walker, but we soon realized that the terrain was not ideal for the walker. Not to mention the farm was pretty large and I wasn't sure how much she would last there. One of the owners approached us and asked if we would like to use one of their wagons. I was so thankful! So we got Nina in her fancy ride, then I folded up her walker and put it in there, along with my heavy backpack. I also had the other friends help me push it, Nina loved it! Sometimes, she would lay down and close her eyes with a smile of contentment in her face. Love this girl!

 Our first activity involved these bouncy horses. There were three different sizes and the kids loved them!

 They also had stilts. I tried them too!

 One of the favorite activities was feeding the goats. It took the kids a little getting used to having the goats lick their hands, but once they got used to it, they loved it!

And yes, Nina was balancing like a super star, even while feeding the goat!

Another favorite activity was petting the bunnies. Now, I will say that some kids were mean to the bunnies, picking them up and dropping them, or jumping on them (one little bunny had his back broken). These poor animals were terrified of the children and trying to get away from little hands, so I had to intervene and help Nina hold a bunny. You cannot see this here, but I had three other bunnies hiding between my legs trying to stay away from the children.

 And of course there was petting the kitty. Nina loved it, Ellie was scared of the kitty, afraid she would get scratched!

 There were a couple of rope swings, Ellie did amazing! We tried to get Nina to do it but that proved to be challenging.

Next to the ropes, there were these long tunnels, I love the pics, and there is a story to this photo, but I will share more about it at the end of the post, because it was a God moment, and we are framing the picture with a special saying for Nina.

 The girls with their teachers. We have AMAZING teachers. I love them to pieces. Both of them! Ellie's teacher challenges her and affirms her, as a mom I appreciate that so much! Kids need to hear praise form other adults in their life, not just their parents! Nina's teacher has been such an encouragement to ME. There have been times when I have had doubts about what Nina can or cannot do, she looks at me straight in the eye and says, "She can do this." and I just need to hear that from someone else! So often I am the one having to advocate for my daughter. She is one remarkable lady, how blessed we are that she is Nina's teacher!

 Nina got the "hamster wheel" turning!

 

 They had these sections of large pipes (same as the long tunnel material). Except these were set on some sort of rails. The kids then got in them and rolled them from one end of the rails to the next. I tried it, and fell a couple of times. it was fun!

 

 

 Fun tractor!

Wooden horses, and swing horses. No real ones but hey, the farm had horses kids could ride!

And proof that I was there with my girls!

This was not an ordinary field trip, God met me there in a meaningful way. The picture below was a gift from God.

I actually wrote about it for Not Alone. If you want to read that post, click here. I highly recommend you do! And it is a pretty short read ;)

Here is the significance of this photo:

God had been showing me His love for Nina throughout the day. His love, His delight, His pleasure. Then we got in the tunnels, and it was so bright I could hardly see. Then I snapped this picture and God reminded me once more that Nina is His beloved, and His light shines bright on her, illuminating her, reminding me, and showing her, how much He loves her. it was a Holy moment, right there at the farm.

 And this might just be one of my favorite pictures of all times, because somehow God allowed me to capture a Holy moment.

So to get the full story, do check the post for Not Alone in the link above.

Exciting Things Happening

This is one of those boring posts where I "update" you and share some exciting things happening.

First, I wrote about what it would be like to walk in my daughter's shoes (she has cerebral palsy and was adopted three years ago). Tomorrow, Thursday, that post will be featured in Mamapedia. Exciting!

Second, also happening tomorrow, I will be doing a radio show for Hope's Not a Crime. I will be sharing about my journey of faith as I became the mother of a child with special needs, and how God changed my heart and led us to adopt another kid with a disability. Exciting! And, I would love for you to tune in and listen!

Click here to listen to the radio show! Thursday February 7th at 9:00 pm central time.

Hope you get a chance to tune in, would love to have you there!

When Being Honest and Open is Hard..But Good

Last week I had a hard time hitting the "publish" button when I shared about why I did not write a review about last year. Talking about church is difficult, and finally sharing about my struggle with anxiety issues felt extremely vulnerable. You know, since I should have it all together being a pastor's wife and all. But in all honesty, I would rather do ministry from a place of brokenness, where I am real, and where what I have to offer is what God has done in my heart and my life.

And it also feels so freeing! yet now I am beginning to question myself, "Why do I have this need to do life in public." Maybe it is because our lives are already public and open to criticism from leading a church. But I also think I feel compelled to do so for the same reason I write. Because I am broken, and because I believe in community, and because I do believe that my story can connect with your story. 

I also did not expect the outpouring of love and encouragement from comments here to emails and facebook messages. Thank you, thank you so very much for your words and for taking the time to reach out, I appreciate it so much.

Life is such a journey, for all of us.

I am learning about taking care of myself. I am learning about trusting God, and that He has us here for a reason. Although it is hard, it is also a good place to be.

I am also learning (once again) that when I open up about my own struggles, I allow other people to do the same, and maybe we can encourage and uplift one another. We remind each other that we are not alone.

So being honest and open is hard...but it is also good.

This Is Why I Write

I write because I am broken.

And I have found great beauty in this brokenness because of the great love and compassion that surround it.

When my second daughter was born with Down syndrome, she challenged what I viewed as perfect, worthy, important, and valuable in life. I had received her as a broken baby, only to quickly recognize that I was the broken one. The treasures I have discovered along the way are not found in strength, performance, eloquence, character or confidence. They are found in brokenness, where beauty is found unexpectedly as a result of God’s love and compassion transforming my life.
- Ellen Stumbo

That was the beginning of my brokenness. Once I recognized who I really was, a beautiful journey began to take place. Yes, I am a writer, and writers write. However, it was through writing that I explored my feelings, my thoughts, ideas, dreams, and passions.

I felt passionless for along time. Then suddenly I had a baby girl with special needs that made me recognize how self-centered my life was. Acknowledging my brokenness gave me passion to live life different. I needed to be broken.

Through my personal blog, I began to share about life with a baby with Down syndrome. After a while, I began to receive emails from other women who were struggling with a new or a prenatal diagnosis of Down syndrome. Somehow, it seemed, my words touched their heart and they needed someone to talk to. I prayed for each one of these women, and soon I recognized I was part of a greater story where I only had a small part to play. But however small, I considered it to be an honor and a “high calling” so I continued to write.

When our “special needs” family expanded by adopting a child with cerebral palsy, I began to write about adoption. Mainly, I was writing about the emotions of adoption, because I wanted to be honest and real about the process. Adoption was hard. I wish someone had reached out to me and affirmed that my emotions were normal. After almost a year, when I finally had someone in the adoption community to talk openly and honestly about all my feelings, I knew it was time to share those through writing.

I write because I want to offer hope, courage, and community to those reading my words.

I write because I don’t want the hurting, struggling, or broken to think that they are alone in this journey of life.

And I write honestly, because if I only tell you what makes me sound good, perfect, or like a worthy pastor’s wife, then I have cheated you in some way. If I tell you that adoption is hard, but I don’t tell you that it took me more than a year to feel any love for my child, I have alienated you if you too are an adopting parent struggling with love. If I tell you that I struggle with anxiety, but I don’t tell you that almost a year ago I had to ask for help, then I have made you feel lonely in your own struggles thinking nobody will understand or that you are “worse off” than the rest. If I tell you that being a parent is a joy, but I don’t tell you that at times I feel like a failure as a mother because of my media addiction, then I am not allowing a level of accountability or honesty to enter into my life, and maybe yours too.

The most personal is the most universal, the most hidden is the most public, and the most solitary is the most communal. What we live in the most intimate places of our being is not just for us but for all people. That is why our inner lives are lives for others.
- Henri Nouwen

And this, this is why I write.

 ***

Linked up to the writing prompt, Why I write

Why I Didn't Write a Review About Last Year

It is typical in the blogosphere to write a review about the year we leave behind. I tried to do that, I even included the topic for one of the writing prompts. Yet, if you read my post  you might scratch your head and wonder why I shared so little. But that is my professional writer blog, so it was all good. However, this is my personal blog, where I get more personal and sometimes a little bit raw. I didn't have the emotional energy to write a review about last year because it was hard. There is a reason why this little blog has been neglected in the last year too.

As much as I share about brokenness, there are some broken places I don't write about. Mainly because I don't know where to draw the line when it comes to writing or sharing about ministry. When your husband is a pastor, church is a big part of your life.

Church has been hard. Really hard. Maybe it is the difference between being the associate pastor to being the senior pastor, I really don't know. But I do know that it has been hard.

This summer, I was ready to walk out. Not just out of the church, but I was done with ministry for good.

We were in the pits of discouragement.

Andy and I attended a pastor's retreat at that time, and I don't know where I would be in my heart if it had not been for that time spent away and resting before the Lord.

In a small church, you end up doing all the jobs, and you also end up getting all the heat (for the things you do or the things you don't do).

Oh some things have been good, exciting even! Some new people have come and our church is now hosting a clothing give away once a month that I really love to be a part of. Yet, the ministry here has been hard and incredibly lonely.

And this is where I struggle to share more, because it is still so hard and so lonely.

Emotional distress has a way of affecting your physical health too. I've always had anxiety issues. I even joked about being hypochondriac, but these issues became very real for me. Almost a year ago, after another night of sleeplessness and realizing I could no longer function, I told my husband I was making an appointment and going to the doctor to get some meds. I have always been one to encourage women who need help to deal with depression or anxiety to do what they need to do to get rid of the veil that blinds them and keeps them from enjoying life. It was incredibly difficult to look at myself and realize that I needed help too. It was humbling to "trade places" and be in the receiving end.

It is especially hard when you see your child being so susceptible to your emotional issues that you begin to see some of those (in a smaller scale) in them too. What a wakeup call!

Although I did not end up taking regular meds, I have changed some of my diet and I take a lot of supplements because my issues are related to some significant deficiencies in my body. Adrenal fatigue and hormonal imbalance do a lot to your brain's chemistry that prevent those neurotransmitters from firing properly. Of course there are spiritual issues going on too.

It has been a slow progress, and writing this makes me feel like a failure and a whiner. But it is the truth, and it is part of my brokenness.

I also know that I have been doing this in my own strength, keeping God at arms length. Recently, I have been convicted about my prayerlessness, and the fact that if I read my Bible 10 times last year I might be pushing it. Yes, I am the pastor's wife whose Bible gathered dust throughout 2012. Because for some reason some people expect a pastor's wife to be more spiritual than your average woman. I am not, I am so broken. And this year I have done a lot of asking Him, "Are you in this? Do you care? Why did you bring us here?"

But I know God is not done with me yet, He is not done with this little church either. He has not promised that things will get better, and I am not planning on that either, but He has promised to be with us. So this year, I am clinging on tight. This year, I am getting down on my knees because I desperately need Him.

My eyes will focus on Jesus because I know it is still going to be hard, but doing it on my own was no good. I just need Him.

Whatever His plan and purpose is, He has us here now. And even if there is a storm, His mighty hands hold me tight.

***

  

(I am not looking for advice or suggestions).

My Brokenness and Prayerlessness

I live in a world plagued with evil and suffering.  Broken lives walk around me and I look past their hurting hearts. This is a lost world, a fallen world in need of hope, in need of light.

Last Friday I had to recognize not only the darkness, but my own prayerlessness.

Because this is what has been so heavy in my heart.

It is about the fact that I forgot how to pray. I say I believe in the power of prayer, yet the time I spend in prayer is insignificant. How is it that I can access the Almighty God, yet instead I choose to spend my time browsing through Facebook statuses, or researching the best parenting sites? 

And this is when once more I am confronted by my own brokenness and my own need for God… my Redeemer, my Comforter, my Hope.

Would I be different if I devoted time before the throne of God each day? Absolutely.

Would our church see fruit if I prayed as fervently about our ministry as I complain about how difficult it is? Without a doubt.

Would my girls be more alert to the doings of God in their lives if I was more aware of them myself as I recognize His voice throughout my day? Yes.

A tragedy brings us to our knees, it makes us realize how far we have moved away from the Lord, and how we have allowed darkness to cover the light we are supposed to give and spread with this world.

But darkness cannot destroy light, not when Jesus has already won the battle for us. And sometimes, it takes the precious and innocent blood of children to make us wake up and see the brokenness inside us, and how desperately we need God to be ever present in our lives, in our hearts, in our words and in our actions.

Because He has come so that we have life, and have it to the full. And so I am ready, ready to embrace this full life He offers, and to do so, I need to spend time with Him. I need to hear His voice.

So I will fall on my knees, spread out my arms and ask God to mend the broken pieces of my heart. I will ask Him to make me whole. I will beg Him to move!

The same God who parted the Sea, the one who made the blind man see and the lame man walk…He can move today too. So move Lord Jesus, show us your power, your Glory, and your unending Love.

We need to pray for our schools (response to tragedy in Connecticut)

This post first appeared on ellenstumbo.com

It seems ironic I posted my first “confessions” the day before the tragic shooting at the Elementary School in Connecticut. I did not hear about it until after school…thankfully.

There was a flood of compassion and empathy for the victims mixed with fear over our children’s lives as we send them off to school. Are our children safe? Homeschoolers reminded us this is one of the reasons they homeschool.

When tragedy hits our most vulnerable (our children), we face the raw reality of the fallen world we live in. Evil exists, and precious lives suffer under the actions of an enemy that seeks to tear down and destroy.

This is a time where it seems okay to talk about prayer, and God, and His love. It saddens me that it is not until crisis and terror strikes that our Nation recognizes the need we have for God to step in and bring light into darkness.

I will not play the blame game. I will not point fingers and talk about who’s fault this is, or what should have been done different. No.

Instead, I will take a close look at me and see if I have failed to do my part. Because when I honestly look at my heart and the role I play, I have to admit that I have failed. If this had happened at my daughter’s school, I would have to painfully admit I have not done my part.

I send my kids to school and I pray for their safety, “Lord please keep them safe.” Yet today I am confronted by this little prayer, because the magnitude of the events that transpired yesterday show me that I do not take my prayer role very seriously.

So I speak to other God fearing moms (and dads):

Where are we? Why are we not regularly getting together and coming before the Lord asking him, begging Him to MOVE in our schools? Why are we not concerned about the teachers, the staff, the broken families and broken hearts that gather in our public school buildings? Are we burdened by the shattered lives that are so close to us and to our children? Are we doing something? Is it really just enough to ask the Lord, “Keep my child safe” and forget that there are many lives that could be touched by God is we only prayed?

If I take my role as a mother, as a child of God, and as a messenger of His love seriously, then I need to wake up and go!

Let’s wake up church, let’s get our hands dirty as we work to bring the love and hope of Christ to this world. It’s time we bring light back to our schools through us! We cannot blame the government for kicking God out of the schools, we have the Holy Spirit within us, and it’s time to pray!

Lord, may you comfort the broken hearts that grieve because of the wickedness of this fallen world. May we all wake up and listen to your call. May we not point fingers and blame when we have not lived unblemished lives ourselves. May we come together in our grief and recognize that we need you, we desperately need you!

My Beautiful, Different Than Expected Life!

Did you ever think that you would be where you are right now? Are your circumstances what you expected them to be? Your marriage? Your children? Your career? Or is your life different than expected?

When I was a Junior in high school, the associate pastor from our church joked with me once and said, “Ellen, maybe someday you will marry a pastor.” To my parent’s great embarrassment I laughed at his comment and assured him, “I will never marry a pastor. I don’t want that kind of life, I want so much more. I want to have a successful job, money to travel the world, live in a nice house, drive new cars, and whatever else I fancy.” The pastor was generous; he smiled right back and assured me, “You never know what the future holds.” I was sure being a pastor’s wife was not in my future.

It was with great shock I called one of my good friends when we were in college and said, “I really like this guy, he is amazing, goodness I like him so much I could marry him, but…he wants to be a pastor!” He stole my heart, what can I say. I married a pastor, and our lives are not what I expected, this life is beautiful. Although it is not easy being the “pastor’s wife” I now look back and laugh at the silly teenager that cared so much about material things. We have traveled the world together on mission trips, and in our journey to adopt our middle child. Money does not measure our success. And I happen to think our little house is pretty cute, comfortable, and most important, it is home.

We were kids!

 I never imagined I would be the mother of a child with Down syndrome, or any special need for that matter. I would have been the first in the line of those that claim, “I could never do it!” And I wrongfully believed the irrational idea that, “God only gives special children to special parents.” I struggled with Nichole’s diagnosis of Down syndrome, but God changed me. No, he transformed me. The beautiful life of our daughter Nichole led us to adopt a little girl with cerebral palsy. Two kids with special needs? This is definitely not what I expected when I thought about being a mom. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love the gifts I have in each one of my girls. They are so different, so unique, so precious.

A day that changed me (<---Link!)

Oh how great were the plans I had envisioned for my future. I had the drive to pursue those passions, yet little by little, I changed. From career choices, investing time in projects, and learning about the things that really matter in life, I became a different me.

This life I live is different than I expected. A rich mosaic put together, piece by piece, creating something beyond what I ever envisioned. I am thankful that my plans were not to be. Thankful for this beautiful life God has given me. Oh, there is plenty of brokenness in me – selfishness, lack of discipline, jealousy – but I am learning to find beauty in the broken places of my life, allowing God to transform me and to guide me in this journey of life.

My beautiful, different than expected life!

This is a post for the writing prompt community. Join us and share your stories about something that was different than you expected.

Adaptive Swim Class

“I qui oh the way!”

At our first adaptive swim-class, Nichole repeats the line from one of her favorite Barbie movies, “I am the queen of the waves!”

Her speech is poor and she has a long way to go. But after a couple of laps around the pool, an older boy approaches us with a loud, “Oh, oh, oh!” All of a sudden, I feel grateful for Nichole’s speech and the fact that she can communicate with us. Most likely, she will speak fluently by the time she is the boy’s age. I feel myself tense as I do not know how to interact with the boy, so I ask him, “Can you sign and show me what you are saying?” But he responds with more “oh, oh, oh!”

When we first walked into the adaptive swim-class, I instantly felt overwhelmed by the different special needs swimming in the water. I held Nichole close to me and thought, we don’t belong here. My first instinct was to turn around. I felt scared, taken out of my comfort zone, yet surprised by my reaction. Don’t I have two children with special needs?  I can do this, I reminded myself, these are my people.

“Oh, oh, oh!” The boy continues. His mother comes over and explains he is singing us a song. As I swim away with Nichole, the woman begins to sing along with her son, he is delighted, claps his hands and hugs his mother. She smiles at him from a deep place so full of love that it is hard not to feel moved by the interaction. I  realize I have much to learn about disability.

I like Down syndrome. Down syndrome has changed me, it is familiar. Nichole and I swim in the pool, she is the queen of the waves, and I am a student, learning what it means to really embrace disabilities. Not only those that I am familiar with, but all of them. I am learning to look at the person, not the disability.

I come home and tell my husband, “We have it really easy when it comes to special needs.” I tell him how I felt, and how much I have to learn.

For the next class, Nina is signed up for the swim class too and we have permission to bring our oldest daughter. I prepare the girls telling them about the big boy that cannot talk. As soon as we enter the pool, we hear the unmistakable, “Oh, oh, oh!” The girls are not scared the way I was, they just get in the pool and have fun. When they swim by him, they wave and say hi.

My children have a greater acceptance of disability and of people that are different.  Sure, Nina has Cerebral Palsy, she knows she is different, but she is also open to those that have more challenges than she does, she find something good and positive and praises those qualities. Nichole is too busy being the queen of the waves, but I  wonder what she will think when she realizes that other people look at her as different. As for Ellie, her sisters are her sisters, they are normal. Every individual with a disability we encounter is a person – and perhaps they have a disability – but it does not matter because everyone has talents, gifts, and even abilities.  My children know what acceptance really looks like. I will follow their lead and look past the disability to see the person.

The adaptive swim-class is a place where kids with special needs learn how to swim. Nonetheless, it is a place where a scared mom continues to learn how to swim in the world of disability, acceptance, and unconditional love.
___________________________________________________________________

If you like this post, share it with your friends. And visit my writer's website where this was originally published!

Expectations

I am linking up with Gypsy Mama for 5 Minute Friday, where you write for 5 minutes, no editing, no over-thinking, you just write! What you get is what you get!

Theme: Expectation

 

 

Go

 

I used to think I knew about unconditional love the moment I became a mother. My precious baby stole my heart and there was nothing that could ever make me stop loving her. I thought I knew what love felt, and I even thought I finally could understand God’s love for me.

The birth of my second daughter, however, challenged my idea of “unconditional love” and showed me how little I understood God’s love for me. My new baby, Nichole, born with Down syndrome, did not meet any of my expectations. I wondered then if my love for my first child had come so easily because she had indeed met every expectation I could have had for her.

I saw Nichole as broken and I struggled to love her. I quickly came to realize that I was the broken one, and it was really God’s love the only love I knew that was completely unconditional. Amazing how God has used my own daughter, a little girl with Down syndrome, to teach me and show me what unconditional love really looks and feels like.

It is not about expectations, it never should have been. It has always been about love.

Stop

 

 

I Need Her

It is 2:00 am when the cell phone vibrates under my pillow reminding me to get up. In a swift motion I swing my legs around and glide out of bed, barely moving the covers. My husband sleeps soundly and so does my one-week-old baby, Nichole, who sleeps propped up in her car seat in our room. I pause at the door and stare at her small shadow. Slowly I turn and exit the room, closing the bedroom door behind me. It is time.

Across the hall from my room, I lock myself in the bathroom. I sit on the cold tile floor and pull the blue Medela breast pump from under the sink. The bottles, cups, and tubes are ready, waiting for me. I am full of milk and ready to relieve some of the pressure.

I plug myself to the milking machine, the rhythmic swishing begins, and within seconds, the floodgates are open. A steady stream that never fails every time I am attached to the pump. 

Why? Why?

Why!!!

Why does it have to be my baby? Why do I have to be the mother of a child with Down syndrome? Why!

It never fails. Every time the pump is to my breast I cry and grieve over Nichole's diagnosis. During the day, I have enough distractions to keep me from giving in and losing myself in despair. But at night, at night I can cry as much as I want. Everyone is sleeping. Nobody knows.

***

My article I Need Her was published today at SpecialNeeds.com. CLICK HERE to continue reading.

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To My Daughter's Mother

I have been thinking about you lately. Do you remember that day 6 years ago when your womb was emptied? Do you remember the frail, struggling baby girl that came into this world, barely 27 weeks old?

The truth is, I used to look down on you. I judged you for the choices that you made that day. I held Nina close to me and accused you, “How could you!” “How could you abandon your own child!”I convinced myself you were a bad person. My delusional righteous indignation made me believe I was better than you.

As I have learned to love Nina – as she has become my very own – God has broken my heart for you.

You were so young. You were not married and you did not plan to get pregnant. I wonder if Nina’s father left you, or if he ever pressured you to have an abortion. I wonder how your parents responded. Were they supportive or did they turn their backs on you?

How would you have supported your baby? What could you have offered to her if you were unsure of your own future?

I will never know what brought on such an early labor for you. I do not know if you did not take care of yourself and your baby or if it happened as a result of poverty, a lack of nutrition and scarce food.

 But I do know what it is like to give birth for the first time, I know what it is like to feel myself be emptied out, and see a tiny human being that is so much a part of me. What was it like for you, seeing Nina so frail, her skin translucent from being born too soon, unable to breathe on her own and so helpless?

When you refused to hold her, had you already made up your mind that you would walk out? Were you afraid that feeling her in your arms would make you want to stay? Did you think that she would die? Were you afraid that she would have a disability due to her early birth? Did it scare you to think that in your country, she would not be accepted and you would have to raise her without support?

 Was it the thought of a disability that turned you away? I understand. When Nichole was born, I did not handle her diagnosis of Down syndrome well. I cried, I questioned, and I feared what our future with her would be like. I couldn’t find love for my baby amidst the tears that overflowed. So I think about you and how I judged you, and I am sorry.

I wonder if you have prayed for Nina all these years. I can picture you crying, begging God to take care of your little girl. And maybe it was during one of your desperate prayers that God tugged at my heart, and looking at Nina’s picture through a computer screen I knew I was looking at my daughter.

I ache for you as you live your life wondering what happened to your very own flesh and blood.

I do not know if you live with pain or guilt over that choice you made 6 years ago. But I wish you knew that Nina is loved. She has a family that loves her, supports her, and will always be present in her life. I wish you knew that she is happy. I wish you knew how much courage and determination she has. I wish you could see her walk and fight her disability with all her strength. I wish you knew that she is charming and smart. I wish you knew that she has grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, teachers, and friends that stand behind her.  I wish you could see how beautiful she is, and maybe she looks like you.

You might never know this, but through you, God has given me one of the most precious and treasured gifts I have: my daughter, Nina.

May God give you peace, may you feel His forgiveness, and may you be filled with His unending love.

Linked to:
Life Unmasked
Works For Me Wednesday
No Ordinary Blog Hop
On Your Heart Tuesday
Winsome Wednesday
Grace Cafe
Imperfect Prose
Thankful Thursdays
Thankful Thursday
Thought Provoking Thursday
Proverbs 31 Thursday