Sunday, January 15, 2017

Gallery Walls


I love gallery walls. I think it is because I love quirkiness and I am a collector of things:).
Anyway, here are some of the gallery walls in my home.


This is one of the first ones I did. My living room is neutral. 



I started this cross collection with the black wooden sign. The song lyrics is one of my favorite songs and one of the first songs Samantha loved to sing at age 2:).



We just completed this one over the winter break. My den has an Americana, rustic look, so this went on one of the walls.


Some people do not like the randomness of gallery walls, but for me that is the fun part.

How about you? Do you have any gallery walls in your home?

JOY!
Karen

Sunday, May 8, 2016

Pulling Me Home

Today is Mom's Day.

I love being a mom.

Deeply. 

I do cry a lot, pray a lot, analyze a lot, ask forgiveness a lot, marvel a lot, sigh a lot, fret a lot, let go a lot and most days feel like I give a lot.

But I also receive a lot.

Today as I counted roses to put in vases for my mom and mom-in-love, my mommy heart breathed in deeply.
1-2-3-4-5-6...
6 roses to represent my six babies.

And there Number 5 rose caused me to linger a little while longer on the bouquet.
Tears falling silently on the velvet petals.

My Number 5.

Oh, how she is missed.

Sometimes, when my children are all at the kitchen table (which gets rarer and rarer these days), I have this faint feeling that I am still waiting for someone. Like the last guest hasn't arrived to the party yet.

It is fleeting. 

It is just a thin thread that runs through my mind. 

But it is there.

That thread of 'waitfulness' weaves with the threads of joy and fullness and contentment and happiness and love and blankets my soul. A soul that longs for the day when all things will be made 'new.' 

And then this thread extends out to others. Those that carry the sadness of ashes, having faith that this is where He makes beauty spring forth. 

This thread tethers us together as we journey 'home.' 

Where, one day, at the end of this thread, I will find Him. And see He is using that thread to pull me to Him.

And then I will continue on to find her.

And I will finally feel like the party can begin.


Friday, February 19, 2016

Heartstrings


When I was little, I came from a home that didn't recognize many traditions. My mother did her best, but being from another country, she really didn't know how to incorporate Western traditions into our home. And because of her harsh and humble upbringing, she didn't have the memories to incorporate Asian traditions either. So I found myself desiring that sense of identity even before I got married.

When I started dating Dale I would look forward to visiting his mom's house at the beginning of every season. She would decorate her table to match the seasons...paper mache Santas, raffia Easter trees, Spring tulips, poinsettias... Dale grew up with all this and probably took for granted, but it was such a draw for me. As soon as we got married, I collected nativities and Easter eggs and hearts to rotate through the season. I started establishing certain traditions in our home, even before we started having kids. I am not sure Dale even realized it :).

Then when we started having kids, traditions started taking roots...


It's a Wonderful Life played during Christmas tree decorating...elaborate birthday dinners picked by the birthday person... special, fancy Valentine's dinner... green mashed potatoes on St. Patrick's Day...
Through the years I have questioned myself on the traditions I have started. Sometimes it seems like a lot of work, and I have tried to streamline many of them along the way. But at the end of the day, I am glad that Dale and I poured ourselves in taking the time to make those memories. In our big family, sometimes people can get lost in the shuffle. Maybe someone didn't listen to his sibling long enough when she was describing her day. Or maybe someone needs an extra dose of love and affirmation. Traditions seem to help ground our family. It makes us stop and really focus on those who live with us under the same roof. 

When everyone goes their own way and begin their own families, I pray that they will remember the times we invested in them through love, words of affirmation, prayers and celebrations. I pray this will help tie our family's heartstrings together . I pray that these roots of traditions will blossom into love in their hearts and help stabilize them in a shaky, harsh world. 


And I pray that they will always know that no matter where their worlds may take them, they will always have a place at our table...green mashed potatoes and all. :)



Our "fancy" Valentine's Dinner

Making homemade pizza for our dinner





Saturday, February 6, 2016

Bible Time



Through the years, we have tried different ways to incorporate Family Bible Time. This year, I stumbled on a great resource...The Bible Project.

We start off as a family watching the video over viewing the book in the Bible we are going to read. Then we start reading the chapters in the book. Or we mix-it up and find an audio version of the chapter to listen to as we read along.



The kids have loved the videos and even beg me to go onto the next. My 11-year-old even read ahead in his Bible to see what would come next. And my four-year-old drew pictures (with the help of her older sister) as we listened and I could recognize key themes/figures in our reading: Noah, Tree of Good and Evil, Adam and Eve:).



Reading the Bible is so important. There are no greater joys as a mom than to see my children love His Word and have a heart for Him. :)





Monday, January 25, 2016

Small



Have you ever had one of those days when you felt 'small'?

Today was one of those days. 
(Which is kinda funny because my word of the year is 'small'.)

I woke up and felt a heavy burden that pushed on my chest, weighing me down until I felt very...small.

I opened social media and read about friends having a great time together that morning and my heart sank and I felt really...small.

I looked at my calendar and saw all my deadlines ahead of me, my throat started closing in and I felt extremely...small.

I saw all the housework in front of me and the tears started bubbling up and I felt tremendously...small.

The more the day progressed, the more small and depressed I became.

I wanted to post, text, Instagram... 


"Hey, do you see me? Do you remember me? I really could use a friend right now."

And then I remembered to look up.

In the big scheme of things, I am small.
But He is big.
And He knows every small detail of my life.
I am not invisible to Him.
He truly gets me and He loves me.
In fact the Bible says..
 "You have kept count of my tossings;

put my tears in your bottle.

Are they not in your book?" (Psalm 56)


So my tears turned into prayers and I knew He was storing them in His bottle.

When I am small, He is big. 
I can run to His big, loving arms and feel swallowed up in His big love. 

And you know what? I really don't mind feeling small anymore.



Monday, January 18, 2016

Home

Not professionally photographed...
Not professionally decorated...
Not even professionally edited:)...

But it is

HOME...












Sunday, October 11, 2015

Walk to Remember

This year I was humbled to be the guest speaker at the 2015 Walk to Remember. Only Tori was able to attend because my other children were under the weather. It was a special day as I witnessed such tender moments with other families who were remembering their sweet babies waiting for them in Heaven.

Here is an excerpt of my story that I was able to share...


..In so many ways, my story began over 25 years ago when I was a freshman in college going out on my first date with the boy next-door who was also college senior. This boy 'splurged' and took me to Taco Bell and I remembering picking at my food because I was so nervous. But I was able to get out two topics that I felt were very important.

The first thing I wanted to check was something my childhood preacher always told me, "Karen, you marry who you date." So I wanted to find out about his relationship with the Lord to see if there would be another date :). Well, thankfully, he passed that test.

Secondly, I shared with him that even though I had chosen a career in accounting (which later became teaching), my dream one day was get married and be a momma to six children. Well, he passed that test too because he didn’t run. (Although years later I found out he really didn’t believe me.) :)

Fast forward and I did marry that boy-next door, Dale, and 15 years later we had four beautiful children. All were born via c-sections with the last two being extremely difficulty c-sections. In fact, with my fourth child, the on-call doctor showed Dale, as I laid on the operating table, a window that had torn into my womb and then gave Dale a stern warning that my baby days were over. Dale knew this news would break my heart, so he didn’t share that with me for a few weeks.

And I will say, hearing the news made me sad. My heart was so grateful for my new baby and all my children, but I remember asking Jesus to take my strong desire for more children away or supernaturally fulfill that desire. This was bigger than me! And I didn’t care if it was through fostering or adopting, or even biologically. 

Well, in 2009, after four years of earnestly praying, God answered that prayer with a ‘yes’ as I saw two faint pink lines appear on a pregnancy test. We were overjoyed …cautious and nervous, but overjoyed.

Because I was now considered Advanced Maternal age (sigh), I received the best medical care. My pregnancy was heavily monitored and I flew through those 9 months with flying colors. We had set the date for my c-section for October 19th and my four sweet little children spent the weeks before helping me wash all the baby clothes for our little girl that we had now named 

Rebekah Joy. 

On October 13, the Thursday morning before my scheduled c-section, I woke up really concerned because I really hadn’t felt any movement from Rebekah Joy. Even though I thought it was because she was running out of room, I decided to go ahead and go to the doctor to see. Dale met me there and I remember the nurse putting the monitor on my belly. Soon there was a sound of a heartbeat and she said,See, there is your baby’s heartbeat. Everything is just fine.” I remember fixing my eyes on Dale and just half-whispering, 

“That is not her heartbeat. That is mine. She is on the other side.”

Well, the nurse moved the monitor and I looked up in time to see her face fall as she rushed out the room.

Then everything went into hyper-speed. My doctor came in with a wheelchair and I remember Dale asking if he should call family and she said that would be a good idea. Then she literally ran pushing my wheelchair through the Women’s Center to Triage. The nurses there quickly started prepping me surgery and hooking me up to the monitors.

After a few minutes, my doctor came in and gently sat beside me She started crying and she said six words that changed my life in an instant, 

“Oh, Karen, there is no movement.”

Even though I had already knew it, a deep wail came out of my soul as I cried out loud to God. But then I blanket a peace...as mentioned in Philippians 4:7...a peace which surpasses all understanding came over me and stayed with me.

Later that night after surgery, Dale placed beautiful Rebekah Joy in my arms. She was perfect with a head full of brown hair that swirled on her crown just like her siblings.  Even though my heart hurt so much, I wanted to memorize every little detail of her...the way her toes looked, the creases in her fingers, her little button nose, the folds in her ears. I leaned into her sweet cheeks and whispered, 

"You are God's beautiful masterpiece. You are His creation. I love you so much, baby girl. Now go and live with Jesus." 

And with that I let my beautiful baby girl go.

After the explanation of a true knot in her umbilical cord and all the busyness of the next two days in the hospital with visitors and loved ones and so many people coming to pray for me and Dale…it was now time to go home. I have experienced a lot of difficult moments in my life, but two of the hardest things I ever had to do happened on that day.

Leaving the hospital with a broken heart and empty arms 
and entering my home with four little broken hearts and an empty cradle. 

My grief journey was beginning and now was the time when the rubber hit the road with my faith. Did I believe everything about Jesus that I confessed for so many years?  Did I believe He is really good? That He is faithful and that his grace is sufficient? I would love to stand here and tell you that I was strong, that it was an easy journey. But I will confess I was not strong and like the Bible song I learned as a child echoed in my heart…"when I am weak, He is strong.” I learned to lean on His strength.

When people ask me what grief feels like, I share that for me it was like a heavy suffocating blanket. I remember those first few months I would physically let out heavy sighs because I felt so out of breath. But on those hard days when I cried out to God from lack of breath from the heavy grief, those are the days I felt His close presence…in a sense I felt His breath.

I also have found God’s promises are true.

And now when I read in 2 Corinthians that Jesus says, ‘My grace is sufficient’ I believe it... not only because Jesus said it in the Bible—I believe it because I’ve experienced it.

My rote answers and knowledge of God has been replaced with a deep understanding of God’s character not just from his Word but from experiencing His promises….He says, “I will never leave or forsake you, I will bind up you wounds, I am close to the broken-hearted.” He tells me that He collects all my tears in a bottle. I am not forgotten.

And I personally grew confident that God would accomplish the purpose He had for Rebekah Joy’s life in the number of days that he gave to her.