I lost my faith...

Conversation with the teen yesterday...

Cameron: I lost my faith after Dad died.
Me: I know.
Cameron: I just couldn't believe all the death we had.
Me: I agree.
Cameron: But you never gave up and the blessings kept coming in. I couldn't deny it.
Me: Because God loves us. He wants nothing but the best for us. He knew when Dad was going to be called home. We didn't, but He did. God didn't forsake us with the death of Dad, which is how you saw things. Instead He chose to bless us. Psalm 68:5 says, "God in His holy dwelling is a father of the fatherless and a champion of widows." You aren't fatherless kid, you have a Heavenly Father who wants nothing but the absolute best for you. I have a Heavenly Husband who is my Champion. The Bible says a lot about taking care of fatherless children and widows. That is why we are abundantly blessed. That is why I hardly ever worry anymore. Because I know that God has us in his hands.
Cameron: And Dad wouldn't let anything happen to us either.
Me: You are absolutely right! I'm certain Dad has a lot to do with it as well. My prayer for you, Dylan and Peyton. I never want you to know what it feels like to be alone, because with God in your corner, you never will be.

The healing that has taken place in Cameron this year is an answered prayer. I pray he continues to grow and cultivate his relationship with the Lord. I realize we're the "single parent family" statistic, but I pray we bypass that because his Dad didn't leave us, he died. He remembers his Dad going to church, being the provider of his family, the chivalrous man he was, and that those memories of his Dad are instilled in his own foundation.

Christmas is Cancelled

The selfishness it takes to write such a statement is staggering. I'll be the first to admit that I have wanted to cancel all holidays, birthdays, hell even my life on some days, for the last, almost, 3 years. But what I want isn't what I can or should. I was at the lowest part of my life after my Beloved's death, which happened just 2 short months after my mother's. I had a choice to make, and three little people who were counting on me to make the right one. Either I allow the grief to take me under or I move forward. What good would I have been to Cameron, Dylan, and Peyton had I curled up in bed and thrown the covers over myself? What would that have taught my children? To run and hide when life didn't go your way.

Instead of being swallowed up, I mustered every ounce of love to shower upon my kids. I gathered strength I didn't know I had and put one foot in front of the other, sometimes moving at a snail's pace. But most importantly I gave myself wholly to my Lord and Savior, who without I wouldn't have had the love to give or strength to move forward. I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength. Was it easy? Absolutely not. Dylan lost his first tooth the day after his Dad died and while I was at the mortuary signing papers to have my Beloved cremated. A few short weeks later I would attend his memorial and 3 days later my birthday. Dylan's first birthday party without his Dad followed a few days after that and then Mike's favorite team, The Packers, would go on to win the Super Bowl on his 60" TV that he bought, the year before, special for that day. I mention the TV because it was a huge sore for me for awhile after Mike died. How about the seven months that my beautiful, 3 year old daughter, asked me daily if she could die today? Her Daddy was in heaven and she wanted nothing more to be with him. And let's not forget my Type 1 diabetic who I thought was going to die too because he was eating his emotions and playing a very dangerous game with his blood sugar. Would I have loved to cancel our first Halloween without our patriarch? Yep. Did I? No. And each and every year when Halloween rolls around I still fight myself not to cancel it. That hasn't changed in 3 years.

Canceling Christmas because you are grieving is the most selfish act and not what the holiday is about. Maybe you should spend less time focused on the person in the mirror and more time looking upward, to the One whose holiday this is truly about, the birth of your Lord and Savior. I tell my children we will forever have a Daddy sized hole in our hearts. Nothing will take it away, but it doesn't mean we can't fill it to the brim around it, because Daddy would want us to. Death is always hardest on the one's left behind. It's our human nature. Fortunately I have a God who wants nothing but good for me. For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." That is the God I serve, the legacy I want to leave my children. This Christmas my church is discussing the Christmas Legacy. Legacy has become a keyword in my life since my Beloved went home. I want to leave my children with the image of me picking us up in the wake of utter devastation and continuing to move forward. While I cradled them, Jesus cradled me. "My precious child, I love you and will never leave you. Never, ever, during your trials and testings. When you saw only one set of footprints, It was then that I carried you." He carried me so I could in turn carry my children. When I die I want my children and grandchildren to know that my heart belonged to Jesus and it was because of that love that we didn't just survive the death of our Beloved husband and Daddy but we thrived!

Merry Christmas to my family and friends. May God's light, love and blessing touch each and every one of you. May your home be full of laughter, your bellies be full of goodies and your stories about loved one's who have already gone home treasured.

What are the chances...

Yesterday I went on a field trip with my APU class to downtown Los Angeles. It was the first time I had ridden the Metro. One of my classmates, Aaron, and I were sitting in seats with nobody beside us, I was turned around and we were chit chatting. The ride to Union Station is about 30 minutes and about stop 3 an older woman got on and she sat next to Aaron. He and I kept chit chatting until she politely interrupted and asked us what was going on and why there were so many people on the Metro this early on a Saturday morning. I explained about our class and told her I didn't know about the back half of the train. She and I begin to make small talk about school and places to see while we're in LA. She says something about God and I get the usual ping to tell her my story. I admit, I like throwing a curve ball at people by telling them I'm a widow with 3 kids, but I'll explain why that is in a moment. I throw the pitch out and her mouth literally drops. She says to me, "You're too young." I love that I don't look my age. I nod politely. I tell her the rest of my story, that he was 33, etc, etc. She gets misty eyed and says, "You're not done. You know that, right? I'm not telling you a premonition, but something in me just tells me God has something big in store for you." I respond with, "I do know that. I'm in no hurry. God's timing is perfect." She thanks me for sharing and then tells me that her friend committed suicide just 3 days earlier. She says, "If only he talked to someone. To me. You continue talking Tiffany. You push through and keep up that strength." She reaches for my hand and I smile. At our stop she says, "You've truly blessed me and I will take you with me for the rest of the day." Fast forward to Olvera Street and Aaron pulls me aside and this is the conversation we have.

Aaron: What are the chances that she was suppose to sit next to me on the train?
Me: 100%.
Aaron: It was like she needed to hear your story.
Me: She did.
Aaron: You just opened up like you'd known her your whole life.
Me (nodding)
Aaron: I just...it's so personal.
Me: I'm an open book. I always have been.
Aaron: I mean, I've heard the story before but...it's like you're a walking testimony.
Me: Exactly.
Aaron: Does this happen to you often?
Me (laughing): Yes. Yes it does.
Aaron: And the people you tell?
Me: Nine times out of 10 they need to hear it. They need to know God keeps his promises and his love is fierce.
Aaron (shaking his head in disbelief): I've never seen anything like that. Ever.

Now, let me tell you about a similar story that happened before Thanksgiving. I've been meaning to share, but just haven't had the time. I got sick and couldn't make it to work for a few days. Someone who works at the littles school, and is very precious to me, was leaving and I needed to buy her a card. I had kept putting it off and so on Wednesday morning I dropped the kiddos off, figured my stomach was good since I hadn't put anything in it and drove over to Christian Treasures. The woman running the store that morning was busy on a call back east but kept popping her head out to assure me she was there if I needed anything. I browsed around and decided to check out a little while later. Another customer came beside me to lay her purchases on the counter while she continued to shop. I made a comment about the Advent Calendar she picked up and told her I was excited to start the Jesse Tree and Ann Voskamp's Devotional. I explained that I was excited to start a new tradition this year with my children. Well she just took the conversation on from there.

Pam: I saw her at Women of Faith. She was amazing. (She goes on about a story of picking up copies of her book and how blessed she was to hear her speak because she had just lost her husband--there's my cue).
Me (hand over my mouth and shaking my head)
Pam: No, please don't. I'm doing okay. I have a loving heavenly Father.
Me (nodding and smiling): I know you do. He's kept me going for the last 2 years and 10 months since my Beloved husband died.
Pam (mouth drops): Mine passed in May. We have a 4 year old daughter.
Me (thinking she is a much older mom): Mine were 11, 5, and 3.
Pam: She's not really my daughter. She's my granddaughter, but she's mine.
Me (grinning from ear to ear): I was raised by my grandmother and there is nothing more precious than that. She passed away 2 months before my husband.

Needless to say the conversation just took off. Her daughter's name is Peyton as well. Pam was just a few short days away from hitting the 6 month mark as well as her first Thanksgiving without her husband. I told her I would pray for her. We stood in Christian Treasures for a good hour talking, lifting each other up and the lady behind the counter exclaimed, "I hate working here!" as she grabbed the box of Kleenex for us all to wipe our tears and blow our noses. We exchanged phone numbers and I hugged her tight before saying goodbye.

Lastly, and I realize this is out of order but this is the funnest story EVER, God always puts me where I will be covered. I accept the long-term sub position and the teacher next door to me was also Cameron's 7th grade language arts teacher. Funny thing was when I told Cameron he said, "NO. Mrs. ________ is a 7th grade teacher." I said, "NO. She's a 6th grade teacher now." Needless to say Mrs. ________ and I became close very fast. I knew she was a widow (she hates that word and I apologize in advance for using it here) but I didn't realize how parallel our stories were. She invited me to have lunch in her classroom with her daughter one day and I took her up on it. HOLY MOLY! God sent me a kindred spirit. The 3 of us women had a huge laugh fest that first lunch together. Our husband's birthdays are 2 days apart and our wedding anniversaries are 3 days apart. Her husband will be gone 3 years on the 18th of this month, mine on the 10th of next. Both are named Mike and both our middle names are Ann. HELLO!?!? This last week each time we're together she tells me, "I'm gonna miss you. I hate making friends." And her daughter won't even discuss it, according to her. I have come to love these ladies immensely. Not only do I have to say goodbye to my students on Thursday, but I have to leave these 2 amazing, hilarious, beautiful women too. I'm gonna be a mess, straight up ugly girl crying. I'm teary eyed right now even typing this.

God is so faithful to me. His mercy and grace cover me in ways that know no bounds. I am in awe almost daily of what He does for me. I pray I continue to be that walking testimony and light for Him. He certainly deserves that and much more.

Living By Faith

I often begin a story like this with, "I can't make this up!" Why would tonight be any different? As I shared recently the kids and I are doing a Christmas/Advent Devotional based on Ann Voskamp's book The Greatest Gift. We sat down tonight to read and then say our prayers before I put the littles to bed. Here's how it went.

Me (reading): The LORD had said to Abram, "Leave your native country, your relatives, and your father's family, and go to the land that I will show you. I will make you into a great nation. I will bless you . . . and you will be a blessing to others. I will bless those who bless you and curse those who treat you with contempt. All the families on earth will be blessed through you." . . . ~ Genesis 12:1-7 

Me (as I continue to read): This is the gift that wraps up all stresses quiet: I will bless you. "I will bless you," says the God who comes to where you are. Who comes in the heaviness of the day, to the space where the weight hangs on the edges of you, so you just keep holding your breath, so you just keep forgetting to breathe. But the weight of everything melts like thinning snow in the heat of His words: "I will bless you." He will not burden you. He will not break you. He will bless you-the God of invincible reliability, the God who has infinite resources, the God who is insistent love. You can always go ahead and breathe-He will bless. You can always breathe when you know all is grace.

At this point I am bawling my eyes out as I read. God is writing me a love letter.

Me (reading through flowing tears): That is the order of grace. . . . The personal blessings envelop you first. Then you are the blessing sent to the world. You will be experienced as a blessing-to the extent you have first experienced yourself as blessed. You must feel the fullness of your own pitcher before you trust the pouring out of yourself. "It is not use for you attempt to sow out of any empty basket, for that would be sowing nothing but wind," wrote Spurgeon. So slow down to feel the wind. Listen to the carols just a little bit longer. Linger in the quiet and taste the grace of now, and know that He is good and He is God. Name them in this moment-gift upon gift upon gift-and listen for the echo in everything: I will bless you.

Me (to the children): Do you understand what I'm reading? God is telling us not to worry. He is telling me my worrying last night and today was for nothing because I we are His children and He loves us. He will bless us always so we can go out and bless others. We are walking testimonies for His love, for His mercy and for His grace.

Cameron: Mom, you always talk about this stuff, but I've never understood until tonight. I don't know what to say. It's ironic.

Me: It's not ironic, it's God. (And then I begin to read again) D.L. Moody once wrote, "Faith is the gift of God. So is the air, but you have to breathe it; so is bread, but you have to eat it; so is water, but you have to drink it." Breathe it, eat it, drink it-leave the blur of Ur and slow to taste and see the promised land of Advent, of Christmas, of His Coming-the blessing of gift upon gift. Only when you first unwrap the gifts of blessings to you can you be wrapped up as a gift of blessing to others. Only when you are overwhelmed with the goodness of God can you overflow with the goodness of God to others. And that is the blessing God graced Abram with, the blessing He graces you with this Advent, the gift that makes you a gift. The greatest gift God graces a should with is His own presence. So the whirl can hush and the spin can slow because He will bless, and He will bless with Himself come down. The present is His presence, and the greatest present you always have to give is His presence-looking into someone's eyes as you listen, refusing the wrong of rushing, lingering long enough to really listen-to everything. There is no need for more: the heart is full of gifts that is full of Christ. It's strange how that happens-that any place becomes the Promised Land when the blessing of His presence becomes the gift we receive-and give. Advent happening anywhere.

Wow! Talk about knocking my socks off. It's as if God was thumping me over the head, "Do you hear me Tiffany?" Yes. Loud and clear. Sometimes I need the hit over the head Lord. Sorry. I. Am. Blessed.

Summer Reading

I tend to do the majority of my reading during Spring and Fall thanks to the reading challenges, but I wanted to make sure I got some reading in this Summer. To hold myself accountable I kept a list.

I FI-NAL-LY read From Ashes by Molly McAdams

On Dublin Street by Samantha Young

I. Am. Gutted. What a fan-fucking-tastic read these were. I lived Hopeless, but I loved Losing Hope by Colleen Hoover

Gabriel's Inferno and Gabriel's Rapture by Sylvain Reynard

The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare

City of Bones

City of Ashes

City of Glass

City of Fallen Angels

I couldn't stop after reading The Mortal Instruments, and because my a couple of my friends said The Infernal Devices were better, I hoped straight into them.

The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare

Clockwork Angel

Clockwork Prince

Clockwork Princess

Dare I say it? I loved The Infernal Devices more than The Mortal Instruments. I want more. I could see myself picking these books up every year to reread them.

Happy 14th Birthday Cameron

I can't believe Cameron is a freshman. Every time someone mentions, "Oh, isn't Cameron a freshman now?" I feel a little sucker punch to the stomach. Can I be in denial a little bit longer please? I can't believe Mike isn't here to empathize with me about having a high schooler. My baby boy, my first born, the one who made me a Mama, is 14 today. I suppose there is no more denial to be had. A few days before school started I had a mini-meltdown. Obviously Peyton has changed the most, she was only 3 when her Daddy died, but I feel like it's Cameron that is a completely different child than he was just 2.8 years ago. He's 5'7, taller than his Dad and I. His voice has changed. He has hair. He is a young man. A young man who is relying on his mother on how to be a man. I am not sure that I'm qualified for the job.

On September 7, 1999 I went in to my OB for my regular weekly check-up. My blood pressure was high. I explained that within the last week my dad's house was in danger due to the Willow Fire and my step-dad had been in a head-on collision on his way to work. The nurse asked me to lie on my left side and relax. Finally the doctor said that I was to go straight to the hospital, he was inducing me. Well, as you know I'm stubborn as hell and when we left the doctor office I told Mike to take me home. I needed to pack my hospital bag (I hadn't done that yet because I wasn't due until the 21st) and I wanted to talk to Grandma. Everyone was sitting at the dinner table when we came in and I told them what was going on. Grandma looked at Mike and said, "And you didn't take her straight to the hospital?" Mike replied, "Can you tell her to do anything she doesn't want to?"

When we got to the hospital everything was ready. I was taken to a room, and IV started, after the first one blew (I had a beautiful bruise on my forearm because of it) and some kind of pill was put next to my cervix to begin the process. It was 6:35 pm. I don't remember when the pitocin was started by IV, but I do remember the doctor breaking my water at 2:30 pm the following afternoon, September 8th. When the doctor came at me with what looked like a ginormous crochet hook, Mike's eyes went big as saucers. The doctor had hoped to move along the process, as I was stuck dilated at a 2 the entire time. That night was exhausting. I labored and labored and labored, and between all that the nurse would give me stadol for the pain. At 6:30 am on the 9th the nurse came in and said the doctor would give me another hour and then we'd discuss c-section. Still only dilated to a 2, I nodded and she left. Mike looked at me like, "What the hell?" and said, "What is an hour going to do that the last 36 hasn't?" I told him to go get the nurse and bring her back. When she came in, I told her, "Where do I sign? Get this baby out of me." She brought the papers in, turned off the IV and...my labor stopped. Completely stopped. It was all chemical labor, Cameron had no desire to come out on his own.

Because 2 people loved each other...

I slept during the c-section. I was whooped. I heard Cameron cry and remember opening my eyes, but I couldn't find him. Finally the nurse brought him over to me and all I could see was his dad's nose. I said, "You've got your Dad's nose." The nurse took him to do what she needed to and I told Mike, "Go with the baby." He waffled for a minute, unsure on what he should do. I went back to sleep and was awake again when they moved me from the operating table to a bed, wheeling me into recovery. I tried, Dear God did I try, to sleep in recovery, but that damn nurse kept poking me and telling me I had to wake up. Did she not know that I had been in labor for 37 1/2 hours before my son was born at 8:04 am?

When I was taken to my room I expected to see my son. Wrong. Mike came in to tell me my Grandma and egg donor had seen Cameron while they were in the nursery. The doctor came out and told the 3 of them that I am very narrow and will most likely never deliver children the old fashioned way. Grandma, not missing a beat, said, "You mean there's something small on Tiffany?" Mike was livid. I waited for 4 1/2 hours before my son was brought to me around 1 pm. Shortly after my Dad and brother, Scott, showed up and my Dad was the first family member, beside Mike and myself, to hold Cameron, his first grandson.

I breastfed Cameron only twice before I developed an excruciating migraine. I've suffered with migraines since I was 9, but never had I ever felt something like this. The nurses were wrapping my head in ice packs, shooting me up with demerol, and Cameron never took from me again. I suffered with, what I now know was, a spinal migraine for 10 days after the birth of Cameron. The demerol kept me pretty out of it and once, while I was holding my newborn, I dozed off for just a second, but Cameron rolled right out of my arms into my lap. After that Mike refused to leave Cameron with me while I was alone. Grandma and he took shifts. If Mike had to work, Grandma was there. The evening of the 10th Mike had taken off to Costco so Grandma was there. I was out of it when the nursery nurse came in and said, "Gah! She's sleeping again? When do you think she'll want her baby?" Grandma, who hardly ever was confrontational, said, "What exactly do you get paid for?" The nurse left in a huff. When I awoke, Grandma told me the story and I called to have Cameron brought to me.

Daddy and Cameron

When I met my husband he did not want children. I would like to say becoming a mother was the most beautiful experience of my life, but quite honestly, it wasn't. Because of the spinal migraine, I got to sit on the sidelines and watch my husband become a Daddy. Not just any Daddy. Oh no! My husband was the most amazing father I could have ever asked for for my children. From the beginning he was hands on. My husband was a far superior Daddy to my lack of Mama skills. I'm certain my friends, a few family, and my Beloved would dispute this, but I call it as I see it.

Mama and Cameron

On the 11th of September, just 2 days after having my firstborn via c-section, I demanded to be released from the hospital. The care was inadequate. I knew I would be cared for at home, and as long as I did as was instructed, I would be fine. We were home a little after 6 pm, 4 days after it all began. Just 10 days later, as Cameron lay on the couch, I laid my face next to his watching him sleep, in awe, I whispered, "I can't wait to do this again." I knew then, like I know now, that I was put on this earth to be a mother. My greatest blessings call me Mama.

-------------------------------------
Side note:
Cameron, very much into Winnie the Pooh (also his nursery), adored Roo. Roo calls Kanga "Mama" and that is why Cameron began calling me Mama. Dylan followed suit, and Peyton after.

Menu Plan Monday

Somebody asked me a question about why lunch for dinner? Here's the thing, I take advantage when the kid's eat hot lunch on the same day. For me, this frees up time that I can spend with the kid's rather than getting them home, shower, homework, dinner, etc. Secondly, it frees up my dinner budget. On the nights that the kid's eat lunch for dinner, I shred up some chicken and eat a chicken salad.

Sunday ~ Tacos

Monday ~ BBQ Hot Dogs, Chicken, & Spaghetti Salad

Tuesday ~ Lunch for dinner

Wednesday ~ BBQ Chicken, Baked Potato, & Corn on the Cob with Parmesan Cheese

Thursday ~ Subway after Choir Practice

Friday ~ Lunch for dinner

Saturday ~ Soup & Sammie's for Johnson Family Game Night