I am Weak.

My weakness: Ice Cream and Mac and Cheese... speaking of which, I may have to make some Mac and Cheese before finishing this post....Okay, boiling water is a go. My husband went to bed tonight without me because I was given strict instructions to stop my life and blog (thank you Lord for a Mr. Steady/Command Man). So anyway, for your viewing pleasure I have inserted a few pictures from Thanksgiving.

I have been planning a blog in my head for some time now. Planning... I am really good at planning.. too bad that my follow through is somewhat lacking. Anyway, I have been planning this blog all about how I cooked these Paleo friendly Thanksgiving meals and how delicious they were, but honestly, I feel like tonight I just need to share how much of a failure I am. I am so not perfect. I get angry too easily, I double book myself all the time, and I am kind of a flake. I hate this qualities within myself like no other. They are the laziness, the fear, and the pride sneaking up to kill who I am, but nights like tonight... I just have to stop and figure out who am I at the center. Like an onion... sometimes you just have to peel away all that the world has heaped on so that you can come back to an understanding of who you are in Christ. That last sentence made it sound like you could do something, but really... God has done it all on the cross. That is why the cross is so vital to the Christian. Everything debt was paid on that cross, and I hang dearly to the cross for life and hope. I love that cross. It is the cross I bear because it is the only hope that I have. The cross is enough. The cross is where Jesus said it was finished, and I am so thankful that no matter how much of a failure I am, I can still kneal at the cross and hear the words "I took care of that."

 

I know my pictures have nothing to do with my post, but I couldn't leave out the cool Paleo dishes. I found most of these at Paleo OMG (it is basically the best website ever when it comes to Paleo). Anyways, back to the cross. When we were in college, we took this fun test to see what disciple we were most like. I got Peter (we were not surprised). Why Peter? Because I have way too much pride, arrogance, fear, and I speak way too often before thinking. I have hurt many people because of my simple minded words. I can totally relate to Peter. Maybe I have never denied Christ in word, but I am sure my actions have denied Him more than I care to recall. How embarrasing is it to call a friend and apologize for speaking or acting before thinking? In Luke 5:8, Peter realized that Jesus was in fact Christ. He fell down and told Jesus to leave his presence for Peter knew that he was a sinner. Oh My... can I relate!

So yeah... I did good at Thanksgiving, but I hit a low point a couple of days after and definitely went on a carb binge today, and I am sure I will pay for it later. I want to be a good person so badly it makes me sick. I really want to answer every phone call and text message I get. I want to have self control when it comes to food. I want to remember to write my friends. I want to sit up late at night and pray for friends and family that are hurting, but I fail. Thank God there is the cross.. Thank God there is tomorrow.

 My husband killing a tree stump.

 Thanksgiving Cookies and Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.

 Getting ready for the hayride!

It is Christmas at the Bean House.

Struggling to find Love

Do you ever get tired of talking?  Do you ever get tired of trying to do the very best you can do?  Do you ever get tired of encountering people who have one desire and that is to shut you down?  As the political season escalates, I have become more and more discouraged with our American lifestyle.  I wonder why we have so many missionaries heading for other countries and not hanging around in America... maybe it is become Americans (in general) have become so hardened by the Word of God?  Our hearts are no longer focused on selfless love.  Life is about using all the time you have to please yourself.  The word sacrafice is quickly dissapearing, and we no longer reach out to our brother and sister in love and peace.  The best and worst thing about reading articles on-line is that people can comment.  I get a better idea of where we are at as a country by reading the comments.  For example, two people may be discussing difference in political ideas, but instead of discussing what is better for a country, the discussion can quickly turn into a conversation of hatred by throwing verbal abuse back and forth.  These people may not seem very intelligent, but these people are normal. 

Ugh!  So many random words, and I still feel like I haven't gotten out my point!  I was reading an article about the new HPV vaccine.  The government now recommends having teenage girls betweent he ages of 12-16 (or something like that ) get this vaccine because the idea is that basically all girls between these ages will become sexually active even if that doesn't include direct intercourse.  Now apparently some religious group decided that this vaccine would actually cause girls to become more sexually active, so a bunch of researchers got together to prove that the vaccine did not cause girls to increase or decrease their sexual activity.  The comments on this article are fun.  Most of them are about how this stupid religious group should be ashamed of ordering this study (which if I read this correctly the group did not order the testing). 

Anyways, they go on and on about how the vaccine is so good, and then one woman posts about how she has taught her daughter why it is important to wait to have sex until marriage, but when her daughter was 16 she had her daughter take the vaccine for extra protection.  I guess you would call this absence plus education (which by the way everyone was commenting about how absence plus was the correct way to teach children about sex).  The next comment was directed at this mother.  It told her that more than likely her daughter was having sex by the age of 12 because most girls are having sex by that age and she was a horrible mother for not getting her daughter vaccine before 16.  The comment went on to say that if the government tells us to do something it is for our safety and it is good to just do it especially when our freedoms become a hazard to our safety. 

I wanted to cry.  Another dad posted something about teaching his daughter morals, and the comment in reply to him was simply, you are not a moral person and you have not taught your daughter anything to give her any moral background.  If you are using that book of Bible stories as your basis for morals then you are teaching a bunch of lies. 

OH YES!  That is right... whatever the government feeds us must be fact, but anything else is a book of lies.  Where do I get my plane ticket out?

All that is a little harsh.  I love America.  I love my soldiers.  I love my state and my freedoms.  I do lose hope.  Don't get me wrong, I do not think God has pulled His hand away from America or His people, but I do get so frustrated.  The church is told to speak out in love.  LOVE is the only way to fight or win any battle.  It is the only thing that will defeat the enemy.  Education, money, and giftings are all great, but according to the song, "If I don't have love, then I am bankrupt." 

You know what though.. it is hard to love.  It is hard to continue loving when someone throws everything you have ever believed or hope for back into your face.  It is hard when you are faced daily with lies that contradict what you know to be the truth.  Our kids our fed this daily, and so are we.  We love and love and love and then someone tells us we are bad parents, liars, manipulators, etc. and so forth.  So what does the church do?  We grow hard against the world.  We begin holding riots and picketing without a single ounce of love in our hearts.  We decide to fight hatred with hatred.  UGH! 

I am split.  I know that I must continue to love, but I get so angry.  I ask God all the time, why do I have to love that person?  Why did you allow me to invest time in that person to have it thrown back at me?  Why am I so open for attacks?  I think about buying a little house with a nice little fence, two sweet little cars, and working to buy nice things and raise two children (because anymore would just be ridiculous).  I smile about how safe that sounds.  Then reality comes in, and I realize that no matter what, as a believer, I am not safe... not from the world anyways.  Jesus said there would be trouble.  So, I get over my little dream, have my pity party, and keep moving.  I keep trying to love, and failing miserably, and asking God to pick me back up.  I keep falling into self-absorbed world and struggling again.  I ask God to give me the wisdom to determine an outright lie to an half-truth to truth. 



And life goes on.    

Alex Ezekial Bean

     One of the most amazing things about being the wife of Michael T. Bean is that he lets me deal with things the way that I need to deal with them.  He lets me express my pain and grief the best way I know how, and sometimes that looks really messy.  Sometimes it involves crying, eating, starving, running, and here recently... cleaning.  Sometimes it involves diving into the Word of God to see what He says about everything, and sometimes it deals with diving into my work.  My husband holds my hand through the crazy train, and when it is all said and done, I walk out of situations feeling bolder and encouraged.  Michael kindly presents truth without pushing it into my face. 


I started a post about a week ago titled "The Line between Dying and Living."  It was basically a rant about how if this baby were out of my womb and ended up dead, people (in general) would have been more considerate.  Honestly, though, we have had lots of love from all sorts of people, and there is hope where there is tragedy.  I am blessed by the flowers that sit on my table and other items of love we were given from people. I am so thankful for the love that was heaped upon us. 


If you ask Michael and I how we are doing, we will tell you good.  That is what people have been trained to say right?  We ask these questions, and we say these things because being "real" with people is scary.  The mixture of emotions in my head is way too complex to explain to people in short surface level conversations.  This was the second baby that we have lost.  The second baby now dead.  The second baby without a grave, and honestly, I think I may have grieved more with the first.  I almost expected this one to end like this.  Does that make me a person of little faith?  Perhaps.

Michael didn't think this one was gonna end.  From day one, he knew that he were going to get to keep this one.  He believed we were going to hold this baby.  He is not a person of little faith. 

Friday night, I shot a gala.  Later, we went to my brother and sister-in-laws house to watch a movie.  We talked and laughed late into the night, and before we went home I had to run to the bathroom.  I had finally got to the point in my pregnancy where I stopped checking for blood when I went to the restroom.  When I saw the blood... I thought I was living a dream.  This couldn't be real... not this time.  The doctor said my numbers looked good, and we saw the baby.  Why was I bleeding?  This is not normal... this is not okay.  I called my husband into the bathroom, and the look of horror on his face sent me into tears.  This was it... our baby was dead. 

When you are considered "high risk" like me, the doctor's really do not want to give you hope that your baby is going to make it the whole nine months.  Early in your pregnancy they tell you what to expect when you miscarry.  They call the process passing.  I hate... HATE the word miscarriage.  It is a mask that pro-choice America labeled a dying baby because the reality is too hard to handle.  I wonder about my own stance on pro-life and pro-choice debates.  I am a big pro-life supporter, but why am I so pro-life?  Is it because I believe that the child in the womb is in fact a baby, or is it because I know that soon the baby will be born and then it will be a child with a great future?

Saturday morning I woke up thinking the whole thing was a bad dream.  I even looked up information about bleeding during pregnancy.  The blood had definitely slowed down, and I thought, perhaps, our baby was still alive.  Around 2:30pm the "passing process" began.  Did you know that when your baby dies (even at six weeks) you still have to deliver the baby?  That is what they mean when they say miscarriage cramps and passing.  You have contractions, and you have to deliver the baby.  I would say around 7ish, we delivered our baby.  Though I feel like I grieved more with the last pregnancy, this pregnancy has left a scar on my heart I can't seem to get over.  A traumatic event that has got me terrified of answering the question, "how are you doing?"  There are so many events that have happened that has me wondering if I was a good mother.  I saw a picture of a six week old baby, and I wanted to throw up.  My baby didn't get a grave.  My poor little baby was given the same funeral we would give a yucky bug that we just killed.  The guilt and shame on my heart because of this one thing is the thing that keeps me up at night.  I think about the day I see my baby again.  I want to apologize to him. 

God is here.  He hasn't left me, and He is still good.  The worst words right now are that God is in control.  These words are incomplete and just leave me bitter.  God is in control... I know that!  I just struggle with the idea that God is still good.  My head knows that God is good... all the time.  My heart is just struggling with believing. That Saturday, three things happened.  I fell more in love with my husband.  My dear, sweet husband didn't get a moment rest.  By 5:30pm, I was in so much pain I couldn't move.  He held my hand and texted back and forth with my mother-in-law.  By 6:00pm, I was in a hot bath and starving.  My husband had to make dinner and run back and forth from the kitchen to the bathroom.  He never once threw in the towel.  He kept telling himself, "Right now, I focus on Paula... the rest will come."  The next thing that happened is something that will haunt me for awhile still.  The last thing that happened was a decision that my husband has sworn to help me with.  My disease is killing my children... so I must kill my disease. 


So how are we doing...really... good.  I am terrified about going back to church, but I know that I am going to have to go back sometime.  I have started getting rid of everything in our house that isn't useful.  We have too much stuff, and I need life to be simple right now.  We don't cry all the time.  We even have days where we do not cry at all.  I do not answer my phone all the time because I am an emotional mess right now, so I am trying to take my time with people.  I am recovering physically.  I still have to work, but I am thankful to not have a full time job right now.  Yes, there is still a God, and yes, He still is good.  I know that He has a huge purpose for us, and I honestly believe that the next child... we will get to keep and hold.  I really do think that we will bounce back more quickly this time.  However, there will always be the scar.       


Alex Ezekial Bean:  Alex means protector of men, and Ezekial with an A means God give me strength.  If he had been allowed to walk this Earth, he would have been a powerful force for the kingdom, but since God decided (for whatever reason) to take him early.  We must stand for him. 
   

She's Dead, Michael

     I finally got sick last night, but it wasn't because of the life growing inside of me.  It was because of the life of a wonderful, beautiful, and funny... oh so funny... 15-year-old that decided she had no desire to remain living on Tuesday night and took her own life.  A wonderful 15-year-old that at one point in her life sat under my leadership as a student, and then when her father became Michael's electrical teacher, I ran into her at least half a dozen other times in the last year. 
  
    I can't seem to wrap my mind around this.  I heard on Tuesday that a child (sophomore) had ended her life.  I quickly did the math in my head.  I taught 7th grade when I taught in that particular school district.  Would those children be sophomores yet... nope, they would be in the 9th grade.  I did my math wrong, though.  My kiddos were in fact entering their sophomore year, and two days after attending, they lost one of their own.  Apparently, it was a case of bullying.  A beautiful child that God created possibly hung out with the wrong people too much or wore different clothing.  Maybe she had gotten a reputation for something else, but either way this reputation spread rampant through the school and in the last two years apparently, the words had become enough! 

Enough.  By the end of last night, I cried behind the wheel of my car begging God for one more chance to talk to her, one more chance to hold her and tell her that God made her beautiful.  One more chance to put truth and life out there in front of her.  Granted, the same outcome may have occurred, but I remember so clearly being her teacher.  I was self-absorbed and convinced that God wanted me in another country like Africa. I didn't belong in America... there is no mission field in America.  The other half of dozen times I saw her, why didn't I just go talk with her.  Ask her about school, giggle about boys.  I stopped teaching in the public school because I felt that I was too limited.  I was eventually going to get in trouble for sharing my beliefs... it was just a matter of time.  However, it seems as if my fears and insecurity can limit me more than any American government or public school.  Time to face the truth.  I am not limited by any law the American government sets... I am limited by my own self-absorption. 

This has happened before.  Not too long ago, I had a friend die.  I had a moment before the death of this friend to share the good news of freedom through Christ.  I didn't do it.  I was too afraid of what this friend would think.  I never spoke to that friend again. 

In the Best Buy parking lot last night, that is the only conclusion I could come up with.  I looked my husband in the eye with the simple statement, "She is dead, Michael."  She is dead, gone, and the grief her parents are going to hold will be the most difficult thing they have ever faced.  The grief and guilt that enters her school is going to be extreme.  What if, she had just one adult... just one that she felt that she could call that night.  Just one teacher who may have decided to break the rules and give her their phone number or one used to be teacher that had a half dozen of chances to speak truth into her life.  What if there was one adult willing to say, "Okay, I am here to be the light, and it is okay for you to intrude into my life a little." 

I think about the young people of the world.  I wish, I could take every single one of them that was hurting and welcome them into our home and life, but the reality is... I can't.  God told us to take care of the poor, widows, orphans, and to raise the children to be men and women who love Him. 

We all have those stories right?  I knew the Holy Spirit was opening a door for ministry, but I was too (insert word here) to help.  I walked by knowingly missing the chance. 

I firmly believe that God is love, and I don't think the church should tolerate sin, but I am so angry that we treat sinners as outcasts.  I don't think the church should tolerate sin because sin is a bondage maker.  It traps people into living lives and believing lies that lead to death.  We are called to love, and we cannot quietly stand and let generations fall to the slavery of sin.  That is not love, but we can't teach our children to outcast them... talk poorly about them.  What if their skirt is too short or different from you... why does it matter?!?!  Why do we allow that to be an issue?  Maybe they do not attend church regularly.  Maybe they have the worst reputation in the world.  Why do we hide from them?  I'm sorry, you screwed your life up really early, so I don't want to be around you anymore.  I don't care if you are only 12, you are a bad influence. 

Then there is the other extreme right?  We don't care what your problem is, come to church, listen to some good music, play some games and see your friends!  At the end of the night, we are going to send you home just as empty and dead as you were when you got here, but you will have some fun for those two hours.  Don't worry about your sin.  We are going to accept you no matter what you are currently doing, and I promise, we will not pick out your sin because we are a no judging church.  We promise to never teach you truth or get too involved with your life. 

I miss this little girl, and I honestly barely knew her.  She was a good student, and from the outside looking in, she appeared to be fine. 

1 John 4:12
No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us.

There is a Baby in my tummy

There is a baby in my tummy.  At least that is what the doctors and eight or so pregnancy tests I have taken say.  I have to be honest, I don't really "feel" pregnant right now.  I do however feel tired and so bloated (maybe tmi), so maybe I am starting to feel pregnant.  I thought it would feel different than this, though. 

     We are somewhere between four and five weeks (probably closer to five weeks now).  We found out last Monday, and we really did not feel the need to wait and tell people.  The doctor confirmed what the tests showed, and we are patiently waiting on our first ultrasound appointment so that we may be able to see this little miracle. 

    I had become so at peace with not being pregnant.  I had come to the realization that our last miscarriage was a blessing and now an important part of our testimony that we can share with people to encourage.  I was focused on getting my body healthy so that when he had a baby, it would have a safe place to grow.  I actually remember telling my sister-in-law Sunday that I had come to a place where I wanted to focus on getting healthy and it didn't matter that we had not conceived again. 

    I guess the joke is on me.  I wanted to start a juice fast/cleanse last Monday, but before beginning I thought I may take a pregnancy test (we had a couple laying around the house).  I spotted on Saturday and thought my cycle was starting, but after a few spots the bleeding stopped.  **shrugs**  I was so frustrated and just wanted to know what was wrong with me, so I guess that feeling is what made me take the test. 

   The first test was clearly positive.  I didn't call Michael, I didn't freak out, and I didn't even get really excited.  I remember thinking, "Okay... let's try this again."  After waiting about an hour, I tried again, and again the test was positive.  I called my sister-in-law.  I informed her that I was holding two positive pregnancy tests.  I could tell that she wanted to be excited; I wanted to feel that rush of excitement as well, but honestly... I just felt nervous.  I questioned a bit on whether or not to tell my husband yet.  I knew another miscarriage would be hard on both of us, and the apprehensive feelings would not just go away.  However, I wanted to have hope.  I wanted hope to flood through our home and hearts.  I wanted this to be a cause of celebration.  Michael came home for lunch, and I told him.  He was so excited, and my heart was broken for my own selfish tendencies of fear.  

    We went to the doctor on Monday, and they did an ultrasound, but it was too early to tell anything.  They took some blood and called on Tuesday to confirm that I was in fact pregnant.  My HcG was a 63 and my progesterone was at a 9.6.  I was having some slight cramps (possibly due to the low progesterone and possibly due to the fact that cramps are fairly normal.)  They brought me back into the doctor Wednesday, and took blood again.  My HcG had risen to 157, but my progesterone had fell to 9.3.  They went ahead and put me on a progesterone supplement.  I have some chest tenderness that will not go away, but the cramps are gone and really the only nausea I am feeling is when I am not getting enough food in my body (which has become a whole other issue that I will be discussing in living with PCOS). 

    I think having children is a funny thing.  Michael and I were up late the other night discussing children and how we just really get to borrow them for a little while.  It is like God entrusts us with a child so that we can teach that child the ways of the Lord.  Right now, even while that child is in my womb, we pray with the child and we begin the process of teaching it about who the Lord is and His service.  My hope and prayer is that our children will see the love of Christ and the desire for His people to know Him more all through our family.  My hope is that they will not feel like they will have to get a good job or go to college, but that they will live a life dedicated to serving the Kingdom.  Michael and I have already dedicated the life of this child to the Lord.  We will raise this child up in His ways.  Maybe one day we will get to hold this child and kiss it's face and mend it's broken heart or broken bones.  However, maybe we will only get to experience the child while it is in the womb, and before it comes out, God will take it home.  I guess it is about letting go and letting God.  He knows. 

From what I read, it is normal to be very apprehensive after miscarraige, and it is very normal not to really "feel" pregnant at five weeks.  Each day we are allowed to keep this child, we will love this child.

     

"Please Sir, I want some More"

"A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones."

Proverbs 14:30

   How does a person get pregnant?  When I was young, a nonbeliever, and very naive I would say something like, "You have sex out of wed-lock, and then you get pregnant.  Getting pregnant out of wed-lock is the ultimate sin." 

    **Rolls Eyes** 

   This may be a stupid question to you, but to me... it is a sincere thought.  Is it kinda like when I was single and people used to tell me, "Oh... it is when you get comfortable with your singleness and you do not want to be married anymore.  Then God sends in your true love."  Again, another ridiculous statement said most of the time by women who are married, but I believed it enough that I used to stay up late at night telling God over and over again, "Okay, I am comfortable with my singleness.  I don't want to be married God.  God do you hear me?!  I said I am fine the way I am, and I never want a boyfriend or a husband."  This (by the way) never got me a husband.  God did bring a husband to me, and it was definitely all God, but oddly enough it came when I finally said, "God, I do want to be a wife, and I do want to be a girlfriend, and I am not okay with being single, but I will wait on you, and while I am waiting I will continue to bring You glory." 

   So now I am married, and after more than a year of marriage and no baby to stay up late at night and rock, I am at it again.  Another question, and desperately searching for answers from anyone with a story "like" mine.  It is almost humorous... well, it is humorous.  This research has me shooting a tablespoon of coconut oil, taking six pills of thyroid aid, and praying all the time for answers on how to "cure" my inability to bear children.  Today, I had to call the doctor (again) and I fought to hold back tears (again), and I heard the same words on the other end of the line "Take a pregnancy test and call back." (again), and once again a negative line, some hard tears, and a coming back to Jesus moment simply asking, "Now what?" 

     I say all of that to say this... I feel like God grew me up today.  I used to talk about wanting a simple life, but then when I started looking up the verses about living a simple life, I never found any that talked about having a simple life as a good thing.  It was actually quite the opposite.  However, I did find many verses that discussed pursuing peace.  Peace: like when Jesus walked out in the middle of the storm peace.  Like when Peter got out of the boat peace... like when... WHAT?!  Peter got out of the boat, oh no!  Lost control, sink!

       I desire godly peace in my life, in whatever ministry or job God brings me to, and in my home.  I have been very unpeaceful lately all because of selfish desires.  Maybe two weeks ago I was stomping around the house because summer is almost over and I feel like I haven't got to go on any adventures!  How dare I let summer go by and not do anything fun!  I got a rude wake up call when God kindly reminded me that I have in fact been all over the United States this summer, I picked up a new photography job as well as a new teaching job, I got an ice cream maker, and I have hiked in new chacos while drinking from a new filtered camelback.  Oops... did I say that I haven't got to do anything fun?

       Envy... envy robs of joy.  It robs of peace.  It robs you from hearing God's voice.  The desire to be somewhere different, to be someone else, or to even have something you feel like God is purposefully denying you takes the peace that God told us to pursue and it shoves into a tight little box until you feel like you are going to explode.  God takes us on adventures when we give our life to Him.  It is a guarantee!  He puts hopes and dreams into our head when we are patiently listening to His voice and reading His Word.  When we begin to pursue those dreams, He opens all of the doors... we simply just step through them.  There is the adventure!  However, we as humans, are always turning around and simply stating, "but I want more."

I want more adventure.

I want more time in the woods.

I want more time in the water.

I want more money.

I want more people to attend my church.

I want more of a ministry.

I want more children.

I want more camera equipment.

I want more tools.

                         Having dreams and desires are not BAD.  I know that God knows me better than anyone including myself, so He knows that I want children, a ranch, a photography business, etc.  But when I start looking at all the things that He has not given me, I forget to be grateful for all the things that I am holding in the moment. 

      I lose peace.  I lose joy.  I lose trust.  I lose comfort.

In the end... I lose.

     Now, I'm not saying be lazy.  There is no waiting at home for Mr. Right to come walking through your door (no matter how many times you tell God you don't want a boyfriend), but don't be crazy. 

 Be still and know that He is God (not you, or the coconut oil).

   Know that He stilled the wind and all was calm.  (Not me...Panic mode!) 

Be still.

Be still.

Be still.

And when He says, "Okay, this is next."  Do not hesitate... GO! 

Obedience precedes joy.

    I spent much of my young adult life searching for the next best thing.  Not all of my wanderings were selfish, but I spent much of that searching coming up with plans that were not of God.  I wasted time wanting the more and not enjoying the moment of peace that God was giving me, and you know what... looking back, there are times that I miss those times, and I think "why didn't I take advantage of what God was trying to give me in the moment?"  Cause the reality is, I'm still young, and when you have children, they are yours for life.  So maybe God is saying, "Hey you!  Stop.  Be still.  Do what I have you to do, and children will come when the come.  Quit stressing... you will get back in the woods soon, and there are more adventures waiting, but for right now...  I need you to clean your husband's socks.  I need to you love on those children so that they do not grow old not knowing love.  I need you to witness to your neighbor and send cookies to the girls down the street. This is what I have for you.  So do what I say and have peace.  I am giving you peace in the chaos.  Take it, cause you don't want to miss what I've got planned for you."

   I like the feeling of being healthy, and I think organic food tastes like 8,000 times better than anything else in the world.  I like taking my thyroid aid, and I may even try metformin again, but the reality is, God is the creator of life, and when He is ready... I will hold a life in my arms that looks a lot like a Bean.  (And it will probably be a girl). 

 

Because Roses have Thorns

Have you ever found it interesting that roses are the symbol for true romance?  As cliche as they may be, I don't believe there are many women out there that would get upset if they came home and their husband had a bouquet of roses waiting for them.  I love flowers.  I am one of those odd girls that buy themselves flowers just so I can have fresh flowers on my table.  I value the times that Michael will pick me a rose or a flower from a garden or from a path we are currently hiking.  It makes me feel especially valued and loved.  That seems so silly in writing, but I don't think I am alone.  There is something about getting flowers, and there is really something about getting roses. 

However, yesterday as I lay on my bed picking at the roses that lay on my pillow, my dear sweet husband tells me, "Be careful, they have thorns."  That seemed such a perfect comment for the day we were having.  Yesterday, my husband and I celebrated our first year of marriage.  People say that the first year is the hardest, but I can honestly say that marriage has been more natural than I believed it would be, and we have had a smooth year filled with wonderful memories.  I can honestly say that in addition to a smooth year, Michael and I made it through a year without any fights.  We had disagreements and frustrations, but when I think about fights I remember yelling and slamming doors.  We lasted an entire year without a single fight... well almost.

Michael and I woke up Monday morning ready to be angry at each other.  We laughed later that we should have both just went back to sleep and started the day over.  I decided that instead of being submissive, I would be rebellious, and Michael decided instead of being patient, he would allow frustration to creep into his head.  We were on our way to float the Buffalo, but we made it to Starbucks before Michael said that we couldn't do this today.  It just didn't feel right.  I made so many mistakes in the next few hours, and he did as well.  I ended up driving to my sister-in-laws house because I honestly felt like it was the most reverent thing I could do at the time.  I needed to back away from the situation.  When I returned home there were two letters and roses on my pillow.  We apologized to each other and came up with a plan to rescue the day.

Looking back on what happened, I almost laugh about how silly we were being.  The emotions and the hurt was real, but the expression of that emotion and hurt was childish.  One of the things my students never could understand was that for Michael and I, divorce is not an option.  We made a covenant on our wedding day not a contract.  That means that no matter how Michael disappoints me or how I disappoint Michael, we are together forever for better or worse.  Our pastor made this very clear during premarital counseling and the wedding itself, but I would tell my students that no couple ever gets married hoping for a divorce.  People marry hoping for a lifetime of happiness and love.  However, after just a short time in marriage, reality sets in for a rude awakening.  Men and women are so different.  Michael and I accidentally hurt each other all the time without knowing why our actions hurt the other.  Something I will say will just kill him and something he will do or most likely something he will forget to do will send me on a crazy train of fear and emotion. 

 Our Father in Heaven values the covenant of marriage as a symbol of His covenant with His people.  He promises to love no matter what happens, and we to have to promise to love no matter what happens.  My students would ask me questions like, "If Michael cheats on you, would you leave him then?"  I would respond with I hope that I am mature enough that in that moment I would forgive.  I would be hurt, and it would take awile to build trust, but I would forgive.  Why?  I cheat on God all the time by making other things my idols instead of worshipping Him.  He forgives and loves despite my actions.  Who am I to deny my husband the same forgiveness that God freely gives to me?

Roses have thorns, but we desire and cherish them anways.  Marriage also has thorns.  We haven't been married long.  We still have that newlywed feel about us, but we are learning.  Marriage takes a lot prayer, forgiveness, "I'm sorry," and obedience to the Word.  It takes sacrafice of things you thought were very important, and it takes a kind word.  It takes knowing that the enemy is against marriage and is trying to find ways to destroy your relationship.  Many times my husband will remind me, "this is an attack from the enemy."  Love is a choice.  I get to decided if I am going to love Michael today.  Love is not some crazy emotion that I have no control over.

I am thankful for my dear sweet husband who loves me much more than I could ever imagine!  I cannot believe that I am so blessed to be married to such an amazing man.  He is more forgiving and kind than I could ever hope to be.

We ended up hiking at Burns Park yesterday, and we had an amazing time!  I bought my first pair of Chacos with my husband's hard earned money, and we had to get a little dirt on them.  We cooked out with my sister-in-law and her family and finally ate a piece of our wedding cake. :)  Last night as we held each other, we thanked each other for a beautiful day.  A day that wouldn't have came if we were not willing to forgive and move on with our life and marriage. 

Be Strong and Courageous

     This is the first summer in a long time that I will not be packing my bags soon to head out to camp.  Leaving for summer camp for a couple of months became a distant reality last summer when God called me home half way through my time at Skyline.  This summer I will also be working for an organization that helps children with severe disabilities.  I will be forced to be focused and the adult because to do otherwise would be extremely dangerous.  I also said goodbye to teaching last week, and I have no clue what I am going to be doing come Septemember.  In just a few weeks, I will be packing my bags and heading off to San Fransico for Investigator training, I have been spending way too much time behind the a camera or in front of a computer getting ready to begin a business that is very crowded right now, and my husband and I are quickly approaching our first year anniversary (which we are celebrating at a wonderful Bed and Breakfast).  We have moved (that makes three time in three years) and I am too sore to walk from the new Kickboxing classes that I began yesterday.  The past couple of months have brought many tears when I remember how much I have really changed.  However, there is so much peace in my house, and the past few days God has spent a lot of time lately reminding me to hold on to Him.      

I have been reading through the book of Joshua, and am amazed at what Rahab actually did.  In the first few chapters of Joshua, you have the Lord telling Joshua to be strong and corageous.  The Lord promises to give Joshua all that He gave to Moses.  A promise of care and hope.  Then you have Rahab come into the picture.  After just a few moments with the Israelite spies, she claims their God as the God of all things and asks for her and her family to be saved.  Her faith was enormous.  The spies left her saying that the only way she would be saved was if she hung a scarlett cord out of her window.  Now, I guess in my head I thought that the transaction of the spies meeting Rahab, going back to the camp and then coming back to Jericho happened within a matter of days, but reading through the text again reveals it probably took a matter of weeks.  I can barely imagine what must have been going through Rahab's heart and mind.  I wonder if she ever thought that the Israelites has abandoned her, or maybe she was more aware of the time it would take to get back to camp and come for her.  Either way, I am sure she had to be strong and corageous.   

I decided the other day not to worry about September.  Michael and I are doing what we feel God has told us to do with me quitting.  We will continue on this journey and be strong and courageous while we wait.  Thank God that the Israelites came back for Rahab.  God heard her cry and did not leave her forsaken.  God will never leave His people forsaken no matter how distant He may seem at the moment.

Overwhelmed by Love

There are new photos under the Serendipity Photography tab, new recipe under Living with PCOS tab, and there is a new Paula creation under the Her Own Hands Design tab. Please, check it out!

There are many things that I am just amazed about today...

Prayer is an amazing tool for peace and taking thoughts captive.

For the first time in a long time, I am not driving myself crazy wondering if I am pregnant or not. There is just a peace that has came over me with the knowledge that God is hearing the prayers of many families all around the United States as well as the prayers going up in on our house. I am settled with hope. That is an amazing place to be.

Miracles happen at Pitza42

Yesterday, before my husband went to class, we went to eat at Pitza42 in Conway. I love this place because they are focused on making a difference in the lives of hungry children. However, blessings happen right in the store as well. When my husband and I got to the counter to pay, the cashier smiled at us and said, "Someone just came and paid for four meals for couples today. You just got the first, so your meal is paid for." I laugh at my reaction now, but in a shocked voice I asked, "are you serious?!" The cashier just laughed at me. We were thankful for our free meal, but we were blessed by the giving heart of some stranger, and now my husband and I are trying to come up with some ideas that we can pay it forward.

I love being an Aunt

There is just something special about being called Aunt Paula (or Aunt PawPaw). Even the baby smiles when she sees me, and my life gets a little bit better. Those little girls (all SIX of them) challenge me to be a better person. I also am learning great tools for when I become a parent. I haven't changed a poopy diper yet... that will take some work.

My husband is an amazing man who is a great dancer.

After my husband got out of class, he took me to my great Valentine's surprise. He took me dancing to this little country "old-people" dance hall. We had the BEST time, though we didn't actually dance a whole lot. It reminded me of when my Aunt Nell would take me to her dance hall. My husband and I made up stories for all the people there. It was a great time.

I am overwhelmed by Love. Sweet phone messages from a friend named Erin who I haven't seen in years, and sweet words from friends right down the street filled my day, and I cannot believe I serve a God that has given me so much. May all of your days be blessed... of course, they probably already are.