motherhood

Thoughts of a Mother of a Special Needs Adult

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 6 Comments

Ashlyn has been an adult for a year now.  I am not sure how I feel about it.  When she was little enough to be carried, her intellectual and physical disabilities were not a big deal.  I hoped that each year would bring new accomplishments and new abilities. I believed that someday her body would straighten and strengthen, that her brain would catch up, and that she could attend a normal class at school.

               I did everything I could to help these dreams come to pass with research, healthy living, and therapies.  We had some breakthroughs, but as she got older, the gap between Ashlyn and her “normal” peers widened.  You can read about our journey in, “An Answer for the Guilt of Motherhood.”

She developed a progressive club foot deformity and needed surgery to walk.  To read the entire story click here and to see the one-year update after surgery, click here.

               A brachiation ladder in the form of a walking track was a beacon of hope to me.  Ashlyn used it to walk upright on her own for most of her childhood.

I thought it would help her feet flatten and her back straighten, but they continued to get worse.  In 2018, Ashlyn had a spinal fusion surgery because her scoliosis had progressed.  She did wonderfully with the surgery and the results were amazing!

Again, I thought that the walking track would help straighten and strengthen her muscles. In 2021 we had to move the walking track out of our living room for a remodel. I wasn’t ready to give up the hope that walking track had given me; that Ashlyn would walk on her own someday, that she would even run!

We moved the walking track outside so Ashlyn could still use it.  She rarely did.  She never wanted to.  I felt guilty for not forcing her to do it as part of our daily routine, but the truth was, walking was becoming less and less beneficial to her.  Her feet had continued to turn after her surgery, and her braces hurt them if she walked too much.  Her toes pointed inward, and her knees rubbed together unnaturally. Her back was not as straight as initially after the spinal fusion, and she would habitually hunch over and lean to the left.

Night before surgery
11 days after surgery
2 1/2 years after surgery

I gave up hope that the walking track would help her walk.  Each passing year brought a slight increase in her disabilities.  She was gaining weight but not gaining muscle.  Her gait and her posture could no longer be corrected by outside forces.  Her mobility was so dysfunctional. It gave her a measure of independence: walking with a walker for short distances or crawling around the house.

She now reminds me of my mom who lives in assisted living and who won’t move an inch without her walker; except that Mom is in her golden years and Ashlyn is just starting her adult life!  If Ashlyn has such problems now, what will her body be like in 10 years, in 30 years?

I finally told Chris that he could take down the walking track and use the wood for other purposes.

I grieved that day.  I grieved the loss of my dream.  I grieved for my daughter who has not been healed. I grieved for her twisted, painful body. I grieved for her mind that understands some but not all.  I grieved for her past, all that could have been done differently that may have made a difference.  I grieved for her present.  I grieved for her future.

               In this season of mourning, there was a new beginning!

               It happened that the children’s playset broke at that same time.  Chris had an idea to fulfill another long-time dream of mine.  He and our sons took the wood and created a garden!

A garden!  I felt so loved.  New life!  Growing and thriving things!  I was amazed by how quickly everything grew in the untested soil of my backyard.

Problem after problem began to pop up, and each one sent me into a downward spiral of dismal imaginations.  First the delicate, pink climbing roses developed powdery mildew.  (I had discovered the roses on the side of the road, and I dug them up and replanted them in my garden.  I smiled to myself while I was doing it, because my Grammy had loved plants so much, she would dig them up all over the US and take them back to her home in Wisconsin.  She did have one of the prettiest yards in the city of Wausau!) I didn’t know what powdery mildew was at first, not until I had to cut the roses to the ground.  I worried that my inexperience would lead to the demise of the beautiful clematis plant given to me by a friend.  I was imagining a garden that was white, powdery, and dead.

Thankfully no other plant was affected by the blight, and I learned how to deal with it. Next came that snap peas that took turns becoming brown and shriveled.  I imagined it was bacterial wilt, and I because I didn’t pull them out immediately, my beautiful but somewhat wilted tomato plants had become infected and would be a complete loss.  Then I learned from my more experienced neighbor that the time for snap peas had passed.

The garden kept growing and the lettuce was wonderful!  Fresh salad from the garden felt like the most luxurious of pleasures.

What a tragedy that lettuce won’t grow all through the summer, but ready to take over in dominance were the tomatoes and cucumbers.  Nothing can compare to a homegrown tomato, and I ate some every day.

Only the cherry tomato plant produced well.  The other two plants grew lots of tomatoes but few that were good to eat.  I let them grow too wild and had a jungle by the end of summer.

We are a family of cucumber lovers, and the garden couldn’t produce them fast enough despite the abundance of seeds I had sown.  Perhaps I had too many plants too close together, or perhaps the soil wasn’t right.  They sure looked lovely though!

Soon, the leaves began to turn yellow and wilt.  I found the dreaded garden pest, the cucumber beetle, every time I inspected the leaves and flowers.  My neighbor had told me that I should kill them because they could carry bacterial wilt to the rest of the plants.  I imagined my garden languishing under their reign of terror.  Worse yet, I imagined my neighbor’s thriving garden being attacked by beetles that my plants had harbored.  I felt responsible for the carnage that was about to be unleashed…but never actually came. 

Again, I was overreacting.  Someone else told me that the yellow color was caused by the lantern flies, and if I sprayed the plants day and night with soap water, they would leave.  This did seem to help, but soon the cucumber plants were past their prime and I had to pull them out.  That left more sunshine for the cone flowers and evening primrose. They stopped producing blooms early in the season and never came back.  Perhaps next year I will not plant cucumber in front of them and they will be happier.

My pepper plants also had more sun, even though summer was fleeting, and they didn’t grow as large or colorful as they should have.  Still, I enjoyed every, last one of them. 

It was a successful first season, and I learned so many things that will make my garden better next year. Now it is frozen and barren, but hope is burning under the ground. 

Hope of spring, hope of new seeds, hope of new life in the next season.

What does all of this have to do with Ashlyn? I will not entertain my exaggerated, miserable thoughts of the future!  I will believe in God’s goodness! Hope is burning in my heart, under the surface.  Hope to sustain me through this day, this season.  My hope is Jesus.

Ashlyn is a senior this year.  I don’t know how to graduate her from home school, but it is going to happen!  She has been learning more each year, although she cannot read or do simple math.  She remembers so many facts that we have studied, yet she often refuses to give answers. She enjoys time with friends and family yet gets nervous in social situations.

She needed to get an ID when she turned 18.  She behaved very well at the DMV and could sign her own name!  I felt so proud!

Ashlyn’s braces that help her to stand and walk began rubbing on one of her ankle bones.  Finally, it was so painful that she couldn’t wear the braces anymore.  She had to crawl everywhere she wanted to go, which is what she prefers to do anyway.  I took her to a new foot doctor who was highly recommended. I was very underwhelmed with the experience.  After a brief look at the x-ray and a glance at her foot, he was ready to sign her up for another surgery (which is probably the only long-term option).

I am not ready to take her through another surgery!  We simply had new braces made and are hoping this will allow her to walk without pain.  She must always build up her endurance to new braces, but she can almost wear them fulltime now.

The doctor did give her a referral to Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation. The doctor there was wonderful, and I left the appointment with the stirrings of hope growing in my heart.  She did what every parent of a special needs child NEEDS a doctor to do.

  1. Listen with interest and compassion while we tell our child’s medical history and story.
  2. Approach our child with kindness and respect.
  3. Look at our child’s body as a whole unit, observing how each part effects every other part.
  4. Give us small, defined measures that we can take to improve the situation.

We left with some targeted exercises and some encouragement!

Someday Ashlyn’s body will be healed.  Someday she will be free.  Now she only sees in part, but someday she will perceive it all.  I don’t know when or how, but Ashlyn will have wholeness in her body, soul, and spirit.  Although her quirky habits and ways of speaking can be wearing on our nerves, and her disabilities can be shackles on our freedoms, I seek to value her as God does.  She is perceptive, caring, peaceful, and content (most of the time). She is a JOY!

I can hear Jesus saying in Luke 14:12-14, “When you put on a dinner, don’t invite friends, brothers, relatives, and rich neighbors! For they will return the invitation. Instead, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. Then at the resurrection of the godly, God will reward you for inviting those who can’t repay you.”

I catch glimpses of how precious Ashlyn is to Jesus. With His love, I try to love her well each day.  Each day I feel like I fail, but God rushes in! In the future when Ashlyn is whole, I can look into her knowing eyes and say, “I loved you the best that I was able.  And I trusted God with all the rest.”

Why I Believe that Life Begins at Conception

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

A friend asked me why I believed that life begins at conception.  She honestly wanted to understand why I had such a problem with abortion.  How could I express to her a lifetime of experiences, conversations, encounters with God, research, reading, and studying? Here is my attempt.

There are four main reasons why life begins at conception.

  1. Science says that Life begins at conception. Check out my article, Science Testifies that Life Begins at Conception
  2. The Bible honors life in the womb and does not differentiate between a baby in the womb and a baby that has already been born. Check out my article, What does the Bible Tell us about the Unborn Human?
  3. Abortion in its essence is evil.  It is murder for babies, bad for women, bad for families, and bad for society in general.  I explore all of this in my article, My Experiences with the Reality of Abortion. It is clear to me that the Devil, who comes only to kill, steal, and destroy, is the author and perpetuator of abortion.  The lie that life does not start at conception violates science and the Bible and is designed to cause a moral society to accept it.
  4. My own life experiences confirm that life begins at conception.

                I was always against abortion as soon as I knew there was such a thing.  My convictions deepened after I had an amazing salvation experience at age 14.  After High School I attended school at YWAM Tyler and began to discover the realities of abortion.

A year after YWAM, Chris and I got married.  Two years after that I conceived our first child. 

My first ultrasound was at 18 weeks.  At a certain moment the baby inside me turned her face and the tech took a picture.  When I looked at the picture of the skull, I saw a daughter although the tech could not determine the gender.  I felt as if I knew that tiny person, and I loved her so much.  She probably could not have survived out of my womb at that point, but her heart was beating, she was growing big and strong, and I knew her.  How much more was she recognized by God who knew her before she was conceived and who set her apart in my womb (Jer 1:5).  I knew that my daughter was chosen by God even before He created the world (Eph 1:4). 

I knew that her life was a dream in His heart, and He was so excited to get Chris and I together so He could begin the fun work of making her. 

I had two more babies (boys) after my firstborn girl.  During each pregnancy, God gave us powerful names for each child and spoke to us about his personality and purpose. We became a happy family of 5.

 Then one day I felt an odd sensation.  It felt as though I was not alone even though it was just me in the room.  I sensed that a new spirit had arrived on the scene.  I placed a hand on my belly and wondered, “Could I be pregnant again?”  It was too early in my cycle to be able to take a pregnancy test.  But I could usually tell the exact day that I ovulated, and that had occurred already.  It can take a fertilized egg 5 to 10 days to actually implant in the uterus and start releasing the pregnancy hormone.

Yet I was curious if my feeling was correct, so I asked God, “Am I pregnant?”

He gave me this verse, “I will bring forth descendants from Jacob, and from Judah, those who will possess my mountains; my chosen people will inherit them, and there will my servants live.” (Is 65:9) 

I knew that I was pregnant, and that this child had a destiny.  This child was going to possess mountains!

Pretty soon I was able to confirm my feeling with a pregnancy test.  When my fourth child was born, a daughter, she was special.  She had dysmorphic features and some internal abnormalities. It wasn’t until 6 weeks later that the chromosomal analysis came back showing she had a rearrangement and deletion in her 6th chromosome.  The scripture that God had given me just days after her conception gave me hope.  He knew my daughter would be special (broken and handicapped by the world’s standards) and He had already given her a destiny. 

This is one of the main reasons I believe that life begins at conception – my daughter Ashlyn.

Most babies like her never make it out of the womb alive these days.  In this country 80% of Down syndrome babies are aborted, almost 100% in other countries. 

Each pregnancy and birth after Ashlyn just confirmed to me that life begins at conception.

Pregnancy number 5 was plagued at first with worries about having another child with a chromosomal abnormality. As the baby grew, peace began to overtake fear. God gave us a name for this child, “Chai Eric” which means, “Healthy and Powerful.” Chai has turned out to be smart and extremely athletic, seeming to have weightlifters’ muscles and power even as a very young boy.

Baby in the womb #6 also had a very powerful name which was such an encouragement to me long before he was born. This “clump of cells” was a man of destiny in seed form. How thankful we are for Cooper!

During the Christmas season of 2008 I was pregnant with my 7th child.  I was in my first trimester and feeling awful. 

Yet I was still able to write, “I can see each child standing before the throne of God.  I see Jesus embracing each one and calling him or her his friend.  I see their reward for the spoils they took from the enemy.  I know that their reward is my legacy.” 

I was talking about the 6 children decorating the tree, the tiny baby in my belly, and any other children that God had for me in the future.

The first trimester of my eighth pregnancy proved to be even harder than the 7th. I wrote all about it in an article, “God Needs Me?”

“The question I kept asking was, “Is this worth it?” and I knew that it was.  A new life is always worth it.  After a mother is holding that precious bundle, her sorrow is turned into joy.

Then the question became, “How much is a human life worth?  How much pain and sorrow is one life worth?  How much would I suffer for one human life?  Would I get pregnant and do this all again for one more human life?  How much is a life worth to God?  How much suffering did Jesus endure?”

The only conclusion I could come to was this; one human life is worth IT ALL! 

There is no limit to the value God puts on a life, no price too high to pay, no suffering to severe.  Jesus suffered more than any of us…He said that his suffering was worth it because of the joy set before him. (Hebrews 12:2) That joy was human life, redeemed and set free.  He said that I am worth it.  He said that you are worth it.  He said that the child in my womb was worth it.

Then I heard God’s loving voice.

“Thank you for being available.  Without you, I couldn’t bring this child of destiny into the world.”

God was calling my tiny baby a “child of destiny” and he was younger than 14 weeks.  Now that I have him, a big 9-year-old named Courage Justice, I can tell you that he was definitely worth it!

When I was pregnant with number 8 and we had already named her Annalise Promise, I started having some spotting.  Fear and dread rose up within me.  What if I lost her?  What if she didn’t make it?  As her name suggests, her life was a symbol of the Promises of God to us. I knew that her life was precious and I would have done anything to protect her.  Mothers who have miscarried even very early in the pregnancy, mourn the loss of a life. Fathers and brothers and sisters and grandparents mourn too.  Thankfully our Annalise Promise is now a stunning 7 year old!

                Over the years I have gotten to know a prayer counselor at our church.  She does a class called, “Blessing Babies in the Womb.”  It is full of scriptures and stories of her experiences that affirm that an unborn baby has a spirit that is alive and active, sensing all that is happening around it.  We can speak blessings over our babies while they are in the womb and they can hear and understand.  Also speaking things like, “I don’t want this baby” or “I want an abortion” can negatively impact that baby.

                Another friend of mine took the class and told me this story: She was in labor with her second child.  She was in the hospital and her labor stalled about half way and the baby would not descend.  She prayed that God would show her if there was anything that was holding her baby back.  God reminded her of something she had said several times during the pregnancy, “I love my first daughter so much, I just don’t see how I can love this baby as much.”

                She immediately spoke to the baby in her womb, asked the baby’s forgiveness and affirmed that she DID love her as much as her older sister. She asked her daughter to come out so she could hold her.  She felt a dramatic drop in her belly. She called the nurse.  When the nurse checked her cervix, she was dumbfounded!  It seemed impossible, but the baby had dropped, and she was fully dilated.  Her baby was born quickly and easily.

                After my ninth baby, I thought God might not have any more children for us.  Then one day, God gave me a name (Aria Iolani) that I felt sure represented a future destiny, a future daughter.  A few months later I became pregnant.  I was speaking blessings and prayers over this baby right from the start, being inspired by “Blessing Babies in the Womb.”  I have spoken to the spirits of my babies many times before…but this was the first time I ever heard the spirit of my baby speak back. I tell the whole story in my article, “The Naming of Aria Iolani.”  I was worshipping in church while Aria was still in her first trimester, still unknown and unseen by any but God. 

I felt the presence of God so strongly and I told my unborn baby, “This is where you are always supposed to live.”

                “I know Mama,” she replied in the sweetest, little-girl voice. Her spirit communicating with my spirit.

                Now Aria is 3 years old and the most intelligent and perceptive three-year-old I can remember ever knowing. I often hear her sweet, little-girl voice saying one of her favorite phrases, “I know Mama” or, “I know Mom” or simply, “I know.”

                My church has a room devoted to prayer, and for years I took one hour a week to pray for pregnant mothers and unborn babies.  I and some others would pray for any woman in the church who was pregnant and any woman who wanted to be pregnant.  The intensity Of God’s love that I felt during that prayer time always undid me. 

God loves mothers and unborn babies. 

Sometimes a woman would come to us for prayer in person.  Other times I would come across a pregnant woman while in church or out and about in places like Costco.  Always I felt God’s delight when I looked at her.  Many times, I would stop and ask if I could pray for her and her baby.  God would show me His love for the unborn child, and He would sometimes give me a sneak-peak into his or her purpose and personality.

                Yes, life begins at conception with a new body, soul, and spirit that the world has never seen. In God’s eternal perspective, that life began as a dream in His heart long before conception.  Long before the great-great grandmother and great-great grandfather ever met.  Long before the world began. 

It has been the greatest privilege of my life to bring those dreams into being with the knowledge that they will be my children for all eternity.

Science Testifies that Life Begins at Conception

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 1 Comment

A large contingent of people who support abortion contend that an unborn baby is not a life, therefore has no rights and cannot be “murdered.”  Is life something that is up for debate?  Or are there specific parameters that define life.

                As it turns out, there is a science that studies just this subject: biology, the study of living organisms. How does biology define life?

A distinctive characteristic of a living organism from dead organism or non-living thing, as specifically distinguished by the capacity to grow, metabolize, respond (to stimuli), adapt, and reproduce

Dr. Steven Jacobs was doing research for his dissertation:

Since these sources suggested the most common view was that a human’s life begins at fertilization, I designed a survey to understand biologists’ assessment of that view. I emailed surveys to professors in the biology departments of over 1,000 institutions around the world.

As the usable responses began to come in, I found that 5,337 biologists (96%) affirmed that a human’s life begins at fertilization,

with 240 (4%) rejecting that view. The majority of the sample identified as liberal (89%), pro-choice (85%) and non-religious (63%). In the case of Americans who expressed party preference, the majority identified as Democrats (92%).

From the article: I Asked Thousands of Biologists When Life Begins. The Answer Wasn’t Popular

Biologist aren’t the only ones who observe that life begins at conception. So do doctors.

Dr. Alfred M. Bongioanni, professor of pediatrics and obstetrics at the University of Pennsylvania, stated:

“I have learned from my earliest medical education that human life begins at the time of conception…. I submit that human life is present throughout this entire sequence from conception to adulthood and that any interruption at any point throughout this time constitutes a termination of human life….

I am no more prepared to say that these early stages [of development in the womb] represent an incomplete human being than I would be to say that the child prior to the dramatic effects of puberty…is not a human being. This is human life at every stage.”

“Dr. Bernard Nathanson, internationally known obstetrician and gynecologist, was a cofounder of what is now the National Abortion Rights Action League (NARAL). He owned and operated what was at the time the largest abortion clinic in the western hemisphere. He was directly involved in over sixty thousand abortions. Dr. Nathanson’s study of developments in the science of fetology and his use of ultrasound to observe the unborn child in the womb led him to the conclusion that he had made a horrible mistake. Resigning from his lucrative position, Nathanson wrote in the New England Journal of Medicine that he was deeply troubled by his “increasing certainty that I had in fact presided over 60,000 deaths.” – from Why Life Begins At Conception

“Modern technologies have convinced us that beyond question the unborn child is simply another human being, another member of the human community, indistinguishable in every way from any of us.” – Dr. Nathanson

These two men and many others testified before the Senate as outlined in this article: Why Life Begins At Conception

The article also states, “A prominent physician points out that at these Senate hearings,

“Pro-abortionists, though invited to do so, failed to produce even a single expert witness who would specifically testify that life begins at any point other than conception or implantation. Only one witness said no one can tell when life begins.”

ABSTRACT: The predominance of human biological research confirms that human life begins at conception—fertilization. At fertilization, the human being emerges as a whole, genetically distinct, individuated zygotic living human organism, a member of the species Homo sapiens, needing only the proper environment in order to grow and develop. The difference between the individual in its adult stage and in its zygotic stage is one of form, not nature. This statement focuses on the scientific evidence of when an individual human life begins.      

American College of Pediatricians – March 2017

Even more proof that life begins at conception found here:Life begins at fertilization. Thanks, Science!

I am no scientist, although my favorite class in High School was AP Biology.  However, I have a qualification to comment on this subject.

  I have spent a little over 7 years of my life carrying other lives inside of my body.

At conception they have a unique genetic code and immediately begin to grow and develop. Soon their heart begins to beat and I can hear it at my first appointments with the midwife.  Soon they have their own brainwaves and thoughts.  They begin to move and react to the environment.  Boy, do they begin to move! They cannot feel my pain and I cannot feel theirs, because we have totally separate nervous systems.  I cannot control their decisions or movements.  When I am getting to my due date, all I can do is ask nicely, “Baby, please be born today!” but I cannot make them drop into the birth canal head first.  And before they are born I get an idea of their personality by how and when and with what intensity they move. 

Each pregnancy was different and each life that was growing inside of me was different. Each one was a miracle that science can only begin to understand!

What does the Bible Tell us about the Unborn Human?

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

Luke 1:41-44:

When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. In a loud voice, she exclaimed: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy.”

The Greek word used to describe Elizabeth’s unborn baby is the same word used in Luke 2:12 and 2:16 to describe the newborn baby Jesus and in Luke 18:15 to describe the babies that the people were bringing to Jesus to touch.

The Bible makes no differentiation between a baby in the womb and a baby that has been born. 

Elizabeth also called Mary the mother of her Lord.  Mary quickly went to see Elizabeth when she received the news from the angel that she would become pregnant by the Holy Spirit.  She was most likely in her first trimester.  The Jesus inside of her was referred to as Lord, the same word for Lord that was used hundreds of times in the New Testament to describe the man Jesus.

The Bible makes no differentiation between Jesus in his fetus form and Jesus in his full grown man form.

Exodus 21:22-24

“If men struggle with each other and strike a woman with child so that she gives birth prematurely, yet there is no injury, he shall surely be fined as the woman’s husband may demand of him, and he shall pay as the judges decide. But if there is any further injury, then you shall appoint as a penalty life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, bruise for bruise.”

Old Testament Law also viewed the unborn as a life. Striking a pregnant woman was a punishable offense.  If there was injury to her or the baby as a result, then it was a life for a life.  In Num. 35:9-15 there is a law that says anyone who kills someone accidentally may flee to a refugee city.  The life for life penalty was not in place. 

So accidental injury to a pregnant woman or unborn baby was a more serious offense to God than other accidental deaths. Accidentally causing the death of an unborn child carried the same weight as intentional murder.

There are other scriptures that show God’s special care of pregnant women, babies, and children.

Is 40:11

“He [the Lord] tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”

Matt 19:14, Mark 10:14, Luke 18:16

Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”

Luke 17:2

“It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea, than that he would cause one of these little ones to stumble.”

The formation of a human is not just the result of biological forces. God is present in the womb, crafting the new life Himself.

Psalm 139:13-14

“For You formed my inward parts;

You wove me in my mother’s womb.

I will give thanks to You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;

God has a destiny for each child before they are born.

Jer 1:5 “And before you were born I consecrated you; I have appointed you a prophet to the nations.”

Gal 1:15 “But when God, who had set me apart even from my mother’s womb and called me through His grace…”

Scriptures Affirm the Purpose and Destiny of a Life Exists even before Conception.

Jer 1:5 “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you…”

Eph 1:4-5 4 “For He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless in His presence. In love He predestined us for adoption as His sons through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of His will,…”

Romans 9:10-12“Not only that, but Rebecca’s children were conceived by one man, our father Isaac. Yet before the twins were born or had done anything good or bad, in order that God’s plan of election might stand, not by works but by Him who calls, she was told, “The older will serve the younger.”

Romans 8:29 “For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters.”

The Bible is clear. Abortion is the murder of a life that God created, the ending of a purpose and destiny, and violates God’s special favor on pregnant women and little ones.

God’s Vision for Me as a Mother

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 2 Comments

The first story I ever wrote about motherhood was titled, “My Children Aren’t Perfect.” It told about my original Glorious Vision of Motherhood. I believed that if I poured all my love and time and just the right bits of research, learning, and training into my children; they would be practically perfect. With each passing year the truth became more and more ruthless in wrestling my pride and ignorance. Finally I saw my Glorious Vision as what it truly was – a grotesque idol that must come toppling down.

                When the dust settled, all I had were broken pieces of my dream and a tentative hope – that God could make something beautiful with my imperfect mothering and messed up children.

                Now six years later I am confident that He is writing a masterpiece with my broken life!  Of course He can bring eternal glory out of my flawed motherhood.  Of course He can with yours!  That was His plan all along, and our imperfections are just interesting details that add conflict and excitement to His story. 

                During the drudgery of dirty diapers, emotional outbursts, and broken car doors when you are in a hurry to get somewhere; it is nice to set our sights on something lovely.  What does all our “day to day” hustle really mean?

                When I was feeling so sick with my 10th pregnancy, God began to show me His Glorious Vision for my Motherhood. I had been sitting on the sofa for about a month.  To pass the time I would try to read books.  Still I would have to stop every so often to put the book down, close my eyes and just breathe. 

                “I am fine.  This nausea will pass.  I will not feel wretched forever.  I just need to get through this day, this hour, this moment, this next chapter of my book.”

                Then I would continue to read, to try and escape how I felt, and to enter into another life more pleasant than my own.  Janette Oak books were always a good choice; interesting, sweet, and encouraging.  Perhaps you have read her famous book that began her famous series, Love Comes Softly.  I didn’t read the entire series, but I read one of the very last books, The Tender Years.

A scene at the beginning of the book captured my imagination.  The original heroine, Marty, was now in her 80s.  She was helping in the kitchen with all the daughters and granddaughters as they prepared a feast for a family reunion.  One of her daughters urged Marty to sit down and take a rest, and she did so gladly.  That gave her time to think about her many descendants that were all around her, romping in the yard, or in far-away places.  Marty knew each one by name.  She knew where they were and what they were doing.  She knew their infinite value, carried them in her heart, and constantly remembered them in her prayers.

I counted each name she listed (which included children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and all of their spouses).  One Hundred and fifty!  That was the number of her progeny.  I was impressed and amazed!  She and her husband Clark had 5 children.  I had 10!  Marty began to fade out of my mind and I imagined myself at 80. I was vibrant and healthy, excited about having most of the family home to eat around our huge tables and play around our large country home. I could have more than 150 in my brood, and I began to get so excited! 

In the moment I was still feeling listless and weak.  But my spirit perked up as I realized that someday I would get my energy back. Someday I would enjoy playing and learning new things with my children again.  Someday even further down the road, it will no longer be me who is pregnant.  It will be my daughters and my daughters-in-law.  I will be able to help and encourage them! 

Someday I will help cook and clean for them.  I will snuggle newborns and chase after toddlers. I will babysit, read books, and do art projects.  I will encourage my children and grandchildren and pray for them by name. I will rejoice with every wedding and every new life! 

And while I am living my normal and mundane mom-life, my descendants will be slowly and surely taking over the world!

I closed my eyes and this is the vision that God gave me.  Chris and I had grown together to become the trunk of a mighty oak tree.  The more we press into God, the deeper our root system grows down into the fertile soil.  We have sprouted 9 strong, tall branches that will produce many branches of their own.  We also have a special branch that is smaller and more twisted than the others. Although she most likely won’t sprout any new branches, her life and her fruit are indispensable to our family. Together we are a magnificent tree, the kind that dominates the landscape and produces much fruit.  The kind that offers shade to the burnt-out, rest to the weary, and shelter to the storm-tossed.

Like it says in Is 61:3, “we will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.”

This vision of the mighty oak gives me strength and encouragement on the hard days.  I am living for the long term benefits, not immediate comfort.  Lots of crap happens in life.  Sometimes storms come and tear off the fruit.  Sometimes the branches are in danger of being cut off.  The floods come and threaten to wash us away.  The droughts come and jeopardize our green leaves. 

I know that as long as we press into God, our roots will always tap into His water, His life, His Holy Spirit just like in Jer 17:8 and Ps 1:3. Those roots are the anchor that keeps us steady and firm.

I got through that difficult pregnancy, got through the difficult labor, got through the difficult recovery and have begun to get my energy and enthusiasm back.  I have been able to enjoy my jewel of a baby girl while at the same time joyfully anticipate the future babies that my own children will have in the coming years.

God took this vision one step further for me recently at church. I had my eyes closed during worship and I was thinking about all the trials we had endured and were still enduring.  Then I saw our family as a mighty oak tree again – tall and strong and green.  I saw our roots go deeper and then deeper still with each hardship.  This continued until the roots hit molten lava. 

Photo by Phil Kallahar from Pexels

The lava traveled up the roots and soon the entire tree was ablaze.  Yet it wasn’t consumed as a normal tree would have been.  It was like Moses’ burning bush; still vibrant, still alive, yet on fire. What a sight to behold!

Then I remembered that I had been asking God to put fire in our hearts.  A fire for Him that would never be quenched. A fire which would burn away all other “gods”, which would give us zeal and energy to pursue Him to our dying breath. A fire that would continue and even increase down through the generations. 

It seemed like God was saying, “If everything that comes your way in this life causes you to go deeper with me, your prayer WILL be answered. It is happening even now.”

A fiery, flourishing, expansive tree reaching the whole earth with its branches heavy laden with fruit – that is God’s Glorious Vision for my Motherhood. 

It is a vision I consider worth living and dying for.  It is a vision that I know that I can’t accomplish.  I have very little control over who my children marry, how many children they have, or the length or quality of their lives.  I can’t anticipate the wrong choices, the tragedies, or the sorrows that may come.  Nor can I imagine the intensity of the triumphs and joys. 

Yet I know that God will accomplish His purpose for us.  It is HIS vision!  And if I am able to make it to 80 and take in with my own eyes the powerful world-changers I helped to bring forth; it will be all His doing!

Perhaps you don’t have as many children as I do.  Perhaps you have more. You might even have a beautiful menagerie of spiritual children, adopted children, God-children, or step-children…charming, amazing, and exasperating children!  Each family tree is unique and one of a kind.  Each has a special purpose.  Have you asked God to show you His Vision for YOUR Motherhood?  Go ahead…I dare you!

I bet it is GLORIOUS!

My Biggest Breakthrough: Part 2 – The Original Wound

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / Leave a comment
Photo by Miriam Espacio from Pexels

Areli, Aria, and I had a wonderful time in Texas. When we returned home I was still living in the wonder of the love that God had shown me there.  I tried to process it, understand it, find scriptures to support it, make it part of my every thought, and believe it in my every cell. 

                A very curious thing had happened in Texas.  Aria had refused to nurse.  I thought that perhaps it was because I didn’t have my usual nursing pillow and everything around us was different.  I did get a few good nursing times with her in our hotel room…when she was totally asleep.  Surely she would resume nursing normally when we were back home.

                Within a few weeks of returning home, Aria stopped nursing completely.  I couldn’t coax her, though I tried and tried.  It was totally fine of course!  She was 15 months and eating all kinds of wonderful food.

 I just thought I had more time, time for her to be a baby, time for her to need me, time for us to snuggle.  All of a sudden my time was up.

                A week went by and my nursing pillows were still out, my bedroom was still in disarray with pillows stacked on the loveseat in the just the right way for nursing.

                “I need to put the nursing pillows away up in the attic.  Now is my chance to make my room pretty again and get rid of all these random pillows.” I thought.

                The thought made me want to cry.  I didn’t want to be done nursing!  The sorrow hung with me and it was stronger than when my other babies had weaned.  Perhaps it was because with the other babies, I knew in my heart that God had more babies to give me.  This time I do not have that assurance.  I could be done nursing…forever.

                I really did feel that the timing of this was from God, that He wanted me to go deeper with Him.  So I allowed myself to feel the pain, to explore the pain, with the help of the Holy Spirit.  I realized that I was only eating for one again.  It didn’t feel important anymore what I ate.  Do I really deserve the best food and supplements?  Just me?  I am not as important as Aria.  In fact, if I am severed from my children, am I valuable at all? 

                I realized with sadness that I was not, at least not in my own estimation.  Being a mother of many children was never my aspiration growing up.  Being a mother at all was sometime I had given very little thought to.  But after I married Chris, we both realized we loved children and we thought would like to have six.  God blessed us with more children than we had imagined, and I grew to love this destiny that God had for me.  I had found my meaning and value in it.

                Then all of a sudden I saw a picture of myself in my mind.  It was just me, just Anne, floating in an empty universe.  No husband, no children, no past, no future, no accomplishments, no good works.  Just Anne.

                “Did Jesus really die for just me?  Does He love just me?” I wondered.                                                  

                My resounding answer was, “NO! How could that be?!”

                Of course I knew that theologically He loved just me.  Plus He had personally shown me His love!  So why was it so hard for me to believe it?  I went through the next two days pondering this question, filling with self-hatred, teetering on the edge of despair and depression.

                I realize now that I should have taken the focus off my own feelings and my unworthiness.  I should have been praising God, trusting Him, and speaking out the words He had spoken, even if I didn’t feel as though I believed them. 

                Again God led me to the empty universe.  There I was. Just me.  Again the question, “Did Jesus die for just me?  Does He love just me?”

                “No, I am so unworthy!” I answered.  The emotions that surfaced were so deep, so raw. It was as though they had been buried for a long, long time.  They reached back to a time in my life of which I have no conscience memory, yet stemmed from an event that I have recently became aware of.  Compared to the sorrow I was now feeling, all my previous emotions had been superficial.  Finally God had reached down to the root of the matter, the original wound to my spirit, the original lie that I believed. 

He had gently pulled off all the band aids that I had so clumsily put on just to keep living.  Old and infected scabs were being scrapped away and the wound was fresh and bleeding.

                “I am not worthy!  I should not even be here.  I do not deserve your love.” I told Jesus.

Jesus answered back.

Always Jesus answers me this way, but I do not always hear.

Always Jesus answers YOU this way, whether you can hear Him or not.

Can we open our ears and try to hear?

Jesus answers;

I love you.

I love YOU!

I have always loved you.

Before you existed, I loved you.

I have loved you for every moment of your life.

I will ALWAYS love you.

You cannot change that.

You cannot cancel out my love with your disbelief.

My love is always right here.

Will you receive it?

Her Room Looks Empty

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

Her room looks empty.  Her dresser is bare.  Her bags are packed.

This is happening.  My firstborn is leaving home.  It isn’t her first adventure, but it is her longest so far.  Seeking God and helping others is her mission, taking photos along the way.

                How can I say goodbye to my right arm, the joy of my heart, and my best girlfriend?  I fear I will be overcome with testosterone and daily tasks without her.

  But I know that it is her time to fly. 

God’s timing is perfect, and His grace is sufficient for me.  She graduated two years ago, an amazing student.  She stayed to save money and help me through my hardest pregnancy and recovery yet. 

                She is a second mother to the others.  She diapered them, fed them, washed them, dressed them, educated them, had fun with them, and loved them.  They are the children they are today because of her.  I am a sane and happy mother of 10 because of her. She had a job and was a leader at youth group.  Many have been blessed by her! 

                “What will we ever do without her?”  my heart keeps asking.  “How will I bare the emptiness?”

                The truth is, we are not becoming smaller as a family, we are expanding.

We are not losing Areli, we are going to be seeing a whole new world through her eyes.  Her room won’t be empty!  Two little girls will being filling the space with feminine joy and enthusiasm soon.  And what a good change it will be.  Four year old Annalise is still in a crib in her brother’s room.  10 month old Aria will be a wonderful roommate now that she sleeps like an angel.

All the children will take a step up and grow in maturity. They will learn new skills and take on new jobs.

                Areli will be going to the same missionary school that I attended just a brief 25 years ago.

  25 means double grace, and there is double grace on her life.

To live…to love…to learn…to grow…to embrace each moment!  Our hearts are going with her, and our prayers are surrounding her. 

 One of her walls looked awfully bare. So I pinned up some photos of Areli and the family. Aria will be able to lay on her new changing table and see that beautiful smile everyday. 

We are so proud of you Areli!  It won’t be long until we are all together again.

A Surprise Visit from My Marine, a Family Picnic, and another Eagle Sighting

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

It was 7pm and dinner was still not ready! I was working in the hot kitchen as the children were running all over the house and yard.

“This just does not work!”  I lamented to Areli, my oldest daughter.  “It is simply too late to be eating supper.”

How did it get so late, and why was I so unprepared today?

“It is alright, Mommy” she said sweetly as she helped.

I was putting the finishing touches on chicken chili (why did I decide to make soup on such a hot day?) when I heard a voice behind me.

“Mom! Mom!”

                I turned around and to see a face I hadn’t seen in four months.  The grown-up, handsome face of my oldest son, Cole.  It took a few seconds to register in my brain.  Then I rushed to hug him, and hugged him, and hugged him, and hugged him some more.

He had just graduated from his Marine MOS training school that morning.  We had all texted him congratulations, and his only reply was that he was off to his next duty station.  He had told us earlier in the month that he didn’t have enough time to come see us, and that it could be quite a while before he did.  Little did we know that he had bought a car and had gotten enough leave to drive home.  Areli knew all about it and had been in communication with him the entire time.  My heart was so happy, so thrilled, so blessed that I couldn’t put my emotions into words. Suddenly I was thankful that dinner was so late and I simply said.

                “Cole, you are just in time for supper!”

 

That Saturday we decided to take the whole family to Little Buffalo for a picnic.  We had many happy memories of day trips and camping trips there, and it was a beautiful day!  As we started the journey in our 12 passenger van, my heart was overflowing.  Our van was full, and I was so thankful that all 12 members of our family were together again.  I sent up a little prayer.

                “I would really love to see an eagle today since we are all together and Cole is here, since Cole is an eagle too.”

About five minutes pasted.  We drove across the Susquehanna River and there it was.  A big black bird.  Flying across the road right in front of us.  It had a white head!

It was a bald eagle!

“There is an eagle!” I screamed 5 times as I pointed frantically.  Most of the children saw it before it flew out of sight.  Cole didn’t spot it, and he started laughing at me.  The other children looked at me strangely and someone said, “Mom, I don’t think I have ever seen you so excited!”

“I was definitely more excited to see Cole when he came home…but you guys don’t understand!  I just prayed and asked God to see an eagle today.  Literally 5 minutes ago I asked Him, and there was an eagle!”

Chris had just been telling me how he had to drive this route many days to deliver packages.  It was a lovely drive.  But he had never seen an eagle before.  The rest of the day I spend in gratitude and wonderment.  Why would God so quickly answer my frivolous little prayer?  What had I done to deserve to be surrounded by such beautiful and handsome faces?

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These people made up my whole world, all my hopes and dreams. They are large portions of my heart walking around outside of my body.

They are all so precious, so special, and so important to me.  They were all here together on this perfect day.  Finally we had to head home, clean up and make supper. The perfect day was fading into twilight, and I wanted to hold on to it.

Cole would be leaving for his first duty station soon.  Would our entire family ever be in our van together again? I began to worry.  It is easy for a mother to worry.  So many details for each child.  So many hurdles stand between them and accomplishing their destinies.  Sometimes one of those hurdles is me!  (Did I check all their school papers?  Did I look that child in the eyes today and see his heart?  Will this one overcome my bad parenting techniques in the past?) A hundred fears began to pop up their ugly heads, and I began to play whack-a-mole with them in my mind.  Not a fun game because they just keep popping back up again.

                Finally I remembered that God had just shown me an eagle.

He had done that twice before, and both times He had used the eagle sighting to tell me something very important.  The first time was in response to a very specific prayer of mine.  He showed me that I do hear His voice, He does hear my voice, and that He created me to be a spiritual eagle.  (Details in “A Hawk, A Vulture,and an Eagle” Part 1 and Part 2.)

The second time I was on a long drive and He told me that I could trust Him with my Children and that He loved me more than I could imagine.  Then I saw the eagle.  Right at that moment this scripture came on the Bible CD I had been listening to.

So don’t lose your confidence. It will bring you a great reward. You need endurance so that after you have done what God wants you to do, you can receive what he has promised.

“Yet, the one who is coming will come soon. He will not delay.

The person who has God’s approval will live by faith. But if he turns back, I will not be pleased with him.”

We don’t belong with those who turn back and are destroyed. Instead, we belong with those who have faith and are saved.

Hebrews 10:35-39 (God’s Word)

                It was clear that these fears had no place in my life.

God loved me, He was holding my husband and my children in His hands, and had given me the faith I needed to stand firm with confidence.  Then I was reminded of something He had been showing me a few weeks ago.  Frankly I had kinda forgotten about it, because it was just too hard to wrap my brain around, so against my normal way of living.  However, this third eagle sighting had convinced me that this was truly a message from God that I had to believe and attempt to live.

It is called, “The Hunted becomes the Hunter.”

To be continued….

Ashlyn Update: One Year after Surgery

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 3 Comments

Last year Ashlyn had a Posterior Medial Release done on her left foot and a Triple Arthrodesis on her right foot at Hershey Medical Center.  This was to correct a progressive club foot deformity that wasn’t present when she was a baby but by age 13 had taken her ability to walk.  I wrote about all the details in, “Prayer Warriors Needed”.  Thank you to everyone who prayed for her!!!  Dr. Sorenson was happy with the results.

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He had originally said she would be in the hospital for 3 days post-op.  I was prepared to stay with her and somehow position my very pregnant self on a reclining chair for three torturous nights.

Ashlyn was doing so well after the surgery that they allowed her to go home the SAME DAY!  What a relief!  With some strong pain meds, she slept fairly well.  The biggest hassle was that she was supposed to sleep on her back with her feet elevated.  She had never slept on her back in her life, and she was very grumpy about it.  Finally after several days, I called the doctor, and he said it would be fine for her to sleep on her stomach with her knees bent and feet up on pillows.

AHHHH!!  Peaceful nights once again.  She did wonderful during the day resting on the love seat.

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It was a little difficult for her to crawl around the house and use the toilet, but she did it with help from older siblings.  She healed quickly and her pain was not too bad.  We stopped using the medication before the prescription ran out.  The surgery and recovery were much easier than I had anticipated.  Her teachers at school gladly worked around her casts.

Right before school let out she graduated to big black boots.  She still wasn’t weight bearing, but was healing nicely.

Finally in August she was fitted for new orthotic braces that would allow her to walk.  Slowly but surely she began to stand and walk again!  Now she walks at school with a walker all the time, and walks at home on her walking track.

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She grew a lot in the year that she couldn’t walk.  Her scoliosis has increased to a 70% curvature which is very significant.  She is no longer able to totally straighten up, which makes walking hard.  Also her knees buckle inward.

She has also been riding her bike with a little help.  When she first received the bike some 4 or 5 years ago, she was terrified of it and would scream through most of her ride.  Now she loves it and asks to ride often!

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Her feet look much better than they did before.  As you can see, they still do not rest flat on the floor.

BEFORE                                                AFTER

 

Before
After

 

Before
After

Now she can stand without braces which she could not do before the surgery.

 

At least now she can fit into braces and normal shoes.  Big sister Areli got Ashlyn a pair of Nike wide Fly Ease sneakers that open with a zipper.  The easiest and nicest shoes she has ever had!

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I noticed after the surgery that Ashlyn’s toe next to her pinky toe on each foot was slightly shorter than it was before.  In fact, the toe on her left foot was drastically shorter.  On her follow up appointment I talked to the doctor about it.  Unfortunately, our beloved Dr. Sorenson had moved to Texas.  Another doctor took over for him.  This doctor had never seen Ashlyn before.  When I told him about her toe, he took a glance at it and said, “Oh yes, that it called ‘such-and-such long technical-term’ and she has had that since birth.”

“It is a lot shorter than it used to be,” I tried to explain.

“Oh no it isn’t, you just didn’t notice it before.” he promptly replied.

Well, my trust in this new doctor just plummeted to zero, and I thanked God that we had done this important surgery before Dr. Sorenson had made his move!

A Parris Island Graduation

/ Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 4 Comments

We had just celebrated New Years.  I was excited to say goodbye to 2018, a year of being pregnant and recovering from being pregnant.  I had spent most of the year feeling my worst, but trying my best to be more active.

And here I was, bright and early on the second day of 2019, starting out on a road trip to Parris Island, South Carolina.  Amazing!

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“This is going to be a great year!” I thought to myself as I watched the scenery go by, as we crossed the border of Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, and then South Carolina.  I was happy as the temperatures got noticeably warmer.  I remained optimistic even when the southern humidity turned my hair into a frizzy puff ball.

I was with Chris and our oldest daughter, Areli (19 years old) and our youngest daughter Aria (4 months old) driving down to attend the Marine Graduation of our firstborn son, Cole.  We were also traveling with Cole’s girlfriend, Amy and her mom, Valarie.  We were making good time even with nursing Aria every 3-4 hours.  We were close to our rental home, but we had to stop for supper.  We found a local diner with southern comfort food.  No bright and fresh vegetables, but plenty of the fried variety.  It felt almost too stereotypical to be true: the friendly waitress with the charming southern drawl giving directions to the toothless gentleman, “Turn at the big tree, past the single-wide, to the double-wide where my mama lives.”

The next morning we awoke early, but we could hardly sleep anyway.  It was the day that we would see our Marine for the first time in three months.  I had to rise at 4:30 to get myself ready and feed the baby. Even though we got on the base at 6:30, we realized that we were a bit late, and the parking lot was almost full.  We hurried out to try and find a good spot along the street.  At 7:00am the Motivational Run would start, and we wanted to catch a glimpse of Cole as he ran past.

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We could see the famous sign over the Blvd de France that said, “WE MAKE MARINES” and our excitement mounted!  Soon we heard something but couldn’t see anything.  Was it recruits doing PT?  Or was it our Marines getting closer?  First to come marching down the street was a small band that Areli nicknamed, “The Side Band.” A lively and talented group of brass musician and drummers danced and marched and interacted with the crowd.

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I learned later that they were all master musicians who joined the Marines just to be in their band.  Soon we heard a military cadence being called out by hundreds of young Marines.

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We could hardly contain our excitement at this point.  Camera and phones were out.  We watched the guidons carefully.  First the lead platoons would pass…1000…1001…

There was 1002!  Cole’s Platoon.  I strained my eyes.  Then in the middle of all the green and shaved heads…I think….I see…

“There’s Cole!  Cole!!!!  Yeah!!!!  I see him!” I yelled like a crazy person.  I saw Cole’s head perk up ever so slightly and in his eyes was a look of recognition.  He was not allowed to break formation in any way, but he had seen us!

The others couldn’t spot him, so we waited until they all ran past again.  This time everyone could see him, strong and proud, running like it was no big deal.  When “The Side Band” passed us again we realized something.  We didn’t know where to go or what to do next.  By the time we followed the crowds of people who were congregating across the street, we were at the back of the line.  We found out that it was the line to get into the All-Weather Training Facility were the Liberty Ceremony would be held…in two hours!

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The security was very strict so it took a long time to get into the building.  We couldn’t all find seats.  Areli, Amy, and I squeezed into the tight bleachers.  Chris just stood in the back with the baby. I had to exit to use the restrooms (which we soon realized, were not one of the top priorities of the Parris Island hospitality committee).  When I returned, the doors were being closed because all the seats were full, still an hour before the ceremony.

I knew that Family Day and was a big deal, but I didn’t realize how BIG it was!

Family and friends had traveled to be here. Whether alone or in groups of up to 30, they came from all over the world to see their beloved receive one of the highest honors; the title of United States Marine.

Time ticked on as we watched Marine promotional videos.  Finally a Marine in charge told Chris he could take Aria and sit in the front row, in a handicap spot that hadn’t been filled.  I joined him.  It was amazing that God worked that out for us!  Next to us was sitting the wife and three young children of one of Cole’s DIs.  Again, I was amazed.  DIs have wives?  They have adorable little children?! I prayed that Aria would be a good little baby and not go into one of her crying fits during the ceremony.

Right on time one of the large doors was opened.  A single Marine sang out a Cadence as the DIs and Platoons marched in perfect formation.  Platoon 1002 stopped right in front of us, but I couldn’t see Cole.

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The talking seemed to last forever.  Finally Liberty was announced and the room erupted into chaos.  It took a while for Cole to find us.  He looked so good, confident and strong.  I hugged him and couldn’t speak for the lump in my throat.

We spent the next 4 hours and 45 minutes walking around the base, talking, asking questions, eating, shopping, and taking in the museum.  There was so much we wanted to know and so little time.  Cole seemed relaxed and happy to answer our questions.

He told us stories that made us laugh and stories that made us wonder in amazement.

He had made it through!  He was still alive and still human, but now more mature, wiser.  He could joke about his suffering and smile and greet other new Marines.

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Marines are always early, so Cole made sure he was back at the Parade Deck well before Liberty was over.  I nursed the baby in the van while the others watched the Graduation Practice.  We spent the rest of our day relaxing at our rental home.  We enjoyed the porch and the beautiful view.  South Carolina really is lovely, if you don’t mind all the frizzy hair.

We decided that we absolutely HAD to get on the base earlier for Graduation Day.  When Aria woke me up at 3:30 am the next morning, there was no point in going back to sleep.  But it was worth it!  We got on the base by 5:30 and Areli and Amy began to wait in line.  The rest of us waited in the van with the sleeping baby.  After a while Valarie and Chris got out to wait in line as well.  At 7:30 they were finally opening the security check points and allowing people into the bleachers.  Still, the ceremony didn’t start until 9, so I thought I would let the baby sleep.  I nursed her in the van around 8 and Chris called me saying, “Get in here as soon as you can.  We are trying to save you a seat but they keep telling us to move closer together to make more room. It is filling up fast.”

I grabbed the diaper bag, my purse, and the baby and walked to the closest metal detector.  By this time the line was very short, and Aria and I got to our seats in no time.  Wow, there were a lot of people!  And packed in so close together, you felt like you were sitting in your neighbor’s lap.  It was a friendly crowd, and I began to talk with the ladies in front of me.  One had come from New York to see her nephew graduate.  Another had come with 20 other family members from Georgia to see her grandson.  We talked about boot camp, our hopes and our fears, and the goodness of God. Tears were coming already and the ceremony hadn’t even started yet! The overflow bleachers were filling up and people who didn’t get a seat were standing.

 I looked out at the crowd and was struck by the amount of love it represented.

I thought about the mother originally from South Africa who traveled with her daughter and grandson.  I remembered the woman in front of me in line explaining how she didn’t sleep a wink during the crucible.  She had stayed up with her candles lit, praying for her great-grandson.  I recalled the sweet young girlfriend from Michigan, alive with giddy excitement at the Liberty Ceremony.  Brothers and sisters holding banners at the Motto Run, women running and embracing their Marines at Liberty, and family members decked out in matching shirts filled my mind.  Now I was surveying the thousands lining the Parade Deck who had taken time off of work and gladly paid the expense to be here.  What love!

I was so glad that I was here!

Part of the thousands,

part of the love,

part of this little piece of Parris Island history,

part of this huge piece of MY SON’S history.

The ceremony was very impressive, full of military marching and orders.  (I don’t have a military background so please forgive my rudimentary and perhaps inaccurate descriptions.) First came the “Main Band” we called it, not to be confused with the “Side Band.”  To watch them march with their instruments was rather like watching close order drills done with slide trombones rather than rifles.  There was the parade master, a woman with an incredible voice that could be heard from one end of the Parade Deck to the other.  There were many commanding officers and two generals.  The mascot of the Marines, a cute bulldog, made an appearance.  When the platoons came marching in, their skill was amazing!  We caught a glimpse of Cole!

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                There were orders called out, awards given, accolades received, and cannons fired!  I had two favorite moments of the ceremony.

First was when I watched my son’s platoon all take a stance in perfect unison, bringing their heels together with one thunderous clap.  Second was when a commanding officer said, “Good Morning!” and over 600 Marines answered him with one voice that seemed to shake the earth.

Finally each platoon was given the order to go on leave and Cole was free!  Free for 10 days!  We gave hugs and congratulations.  We took pictures.  We were bursting with pride!

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We met some of Cole’s friends.  We picked up the last of his bags and saw his squad bay. Cole was anxious to get off of the base and start his leave.  We all had so much to talk about, so many things to do with him, and so many favorite foods to prepare!  But for the moment, we seemed a bit dazed.  It felt like a dream; the culmination of over a year of praying, preparing, and training.

Our son had truly earned the title:

United States Marine!