A fresh cup of courage

"The thing that unravels connection...turns out to be shame. In order for connection to happen, you have to allow yourself to be seen, really seen."

"Vulnerability is the birthplace of joy, creativity, belonging, and love."


            10 years -- 5 years --3 1/2 years --2 1/2 years --1 1/2 years -- 4 weeks --5 days

10 years

On June 30th, Evan and I celebrated 10 years of marriage. We. were. babies. But, man oh, man, I still do. This guy fit like an old shoe from the moment I met him. You are going to have to get over the cliche because it is true - he is my best friend. He is the one I confide most in, trust more than any human, and I genuinely enjoy his company most. I'm quite a lucky gal. Rest assured, it's not all sunshine and roses (just keep reading), but having Evan as my companion in life makes the journey a whole lot sweeter.





5 years

Half of our marriage has been waiting for something very specific, or I should say someone. Evan and I started the journey to adopt in July of 2012. God dropped subtle and then no-so-subtle hints for a couple of years leading up to that point about adoption. We chose our agency, AWAA, first and then the country of Ethiopia (see why Ethiopia). When we began the journey, the state of international adoption was very different. Things were moving faster. We had a projected 18-24 month wait time, but that wait kept extending. The climate of international adoption changing is not necessarily a bad thing. Most don't know (until you are neck deep in it like we are) that there is a TON of corruption in international adoption. Some of the extended timeline is due to addressing these issues, but the rest of the reasons are a bit foggier. Right not, we are officially in our time frame to receive a referral, for the first time ever. However, as soon as we entered in to that window, Ethiopia stopped issuing referrals. Here's where it get's tougher - the Ethiopian government has not closed international adoption, but they have not given any referrals in 9 months. Ethiopian officials are also not answering questions about it. So we are very much in a stuck place. There are many roads to adoption. This is the one that God called us to, and as crazy as it sounds, he has called us to stick this out to the end. If you are asking yourself, why we don't switch to domestic, fostering, other countries, trust not in me, but in the God I love and serve who often asks crazy things and this is one of them. This not the path I would have necessarily chosen.

3 1/2 years

Liv. She is too much and just right. I know I am biased, but this kid is incredible. She is spunky, funny, smart, and unnervingly perceptive. Three is an amazing age, by far my favorite age as a parent yet. Kids at three are curious, discovering and stumbling over language and humor, and are still so stinking cute. She is in school and soaking up everything her wonderful teachers are teaching her. As a former teacher and just simply a very sensitive soul, when she came home and showed me how she can write both an upper and lower case "A," I teared up. I love this nugget so much.

2 1/2 years

Because we are such fans of Liv and due to a general enjoyment of kids and chaos, Evan and I decided trying for kid #2 (or 3 depending on how you look at it) two and a half years ago. We chose the road to adopt before we had any knowledge of whether or not we would have trouble conceiving. Once the wait time continuing to stretch out for Ethiopia, we tried for Liv and BAM! one month later we were pregnant. So, we were shocked when it wasn't happening the second time around. We are healthy, my cycle is like clockwork, and Evan is 5 years younger than me. What in the world? We have done all the testing. In case you are wondering, it's not super fun and it is more than a little emotional. Long story short, there is no good answer for why we can't get pregnant.

So, let me serve up a fresh cup of courage/vulnerability for you - I'm not ok with this. Many of us have unrequited longings, and this is mine. I have prayed, fasted, done a year of counseling, and although I feel better and stronger - I still long. In the quiet moments when there are no distractions, I cry. I am still heartbroken. Strong, but heartbroken. I'm laying this out there because I know I need to for my healing. I know someone else needs to read this so they can say, "Me too." I was listening to a TED talk from Brene Brown who studies shame and vulnerability and she said this, "You cannot selectively numb emotion.When we numb the negative emotions, we lose out on joy, gratitude, and happiness." I don't want that. I noticed that I was starting to miss out on joy again, and it's because I was denying that my heartache was still there. After all, can't I just accept this reality and move on? Apparently, no.

1 1/2 years

A year and a half ago, I stopped teaching. I resigned in the middle of the year (gasp!). I never would have dreamed of this, but the path forward was undeniable, but still painful. I loved teaching and I was pretty good at it. I'm not totally convinced that I won't go back to it at some point, but having more time with Liv right now is pretty sublime. In an end of summer purge, I sold and gave away a bunch of my teaching books which was both tough and oddly freeing for whatever my next adventure will be. I, of course, held on to some of my favorite books and cannot wait to read them to Liv as she gets older (anything Kate DiCamillio anyone?).

4 weeks

Let me tell you about a man named Richard, granddad to me. My beloved granddad passed away four weeks ago from pancreatic cancer at 89 years old. For years, I thought the man didn't age. He was timeless. He had style and personality to spare. He was funny, generous, and always encouraged our dreams. Every Thanksgiving but two in my life have been spent with him, hearing the same stories and laughing at the annual "giving us the bird" joke when the turkey was presented. He savored life, and that is a legacy I wish to continue.

5 days

Irma. We live in Florida, and 5 days ago the largest record hurricane to originate from the Atlantic spanked Florida. This was on the heals of Harvey wrecking the Houston area. It could have been worse, a lot worse. We had minimal damage, were not out of power for long, but the lead up was excruciating. For two weeks we knew it was coming but not exactly where. Fortunately it slowed down, but it did come right through central Florida. It was our first hurricane and I would say we all handled it well with minimal tantrums and tears (I'm talking about me here, Liv was a champ). A beautiful thing that came of both hurricanes are the stories of the helpers and how communities pulled together. During our first step outdoors post-Irma, we saw a neighborhood family whom we have never met and the first thing they said was, "Is everyone ok?" Beautiful.

There is a lot of hard, but sweet sprinkles of goodness too.  I share because it frees me of isolation. I'm sharing because I know someone else needs to hear this too. There is beauty in the ashes, but we need to release the hurts and sorrows, walk through the pain, into the storm in order to see beauty on the other end (Is. 61:3).