When I met her she was just a kid, the little cousin to the only child I married.  Who knew I would love Emily like the little sister I never had? She has celebrated all the major milestones with me, marriage and the birth of all our three children.  During her years away at college our house was her first stop while visiting home. She could not wait to tell us she was engaged! Oh how my own little girl beamed when she looked up at Em, the beautiful bride.

The cool thing about being the older one in a friendship is having the knowledge of the experience.   It was important to Emily for us to be some of the first to hear her news; they were going to have a baby!!! I knew the joy Emily was feeling and I immediately recognized that glow. 

Her pregnancy went smoothly and right on time little Luke arrived and our extended family had grown. I never doubted how great she would be at the “mom thing”.  After all, she had been helping me out with mine for years.  So motherhood suited her naturally and she and her husband, Jason, settled into their new family life.

The months after Luke’s arrival were filled with their frequent visits home and lots of phone calls with updates about how fast he was growing and changing.  So a phone call home from Em about a needed doctor’s visit sounded no alarm.  Being a nurse she had picked up on some slight changes in Luke and wondered if he possibly had an ear infection.  The next phone call would launch their ”God, anything” journey.

From the pediatrician’s office, Luke was sent directly to Children’s Hospital with a weakening and enlarged heart.  The days, weeks, and months that followed for Luke and his parents were a whirlwind none of us ever expected. 

He was diagnosed with Barth Syndrome, a rare and serious genetic disorder primarily affecting males.  He was placed on a rigid med regiment; an attempt to slow the affects of the disorder on his heart.  Emily’s days became all about administering all the prescribed medicines needed for his care.  She and Jason were educated and prepared about other symptoms to expect with this diagnosis.

They moved closer to home and they waited. They waited and watched for any signs of his condition worsening.  On the day of the initial shock, Emily had heard the words “heart transplant” for the first time.  Their hope was to hold off on such a dangerous and drastic measure as long as possible.  But Luke’s condition declined and the need became a reality.

Just four months after that life-changing doctor’s visit, Luke was admitted at Vanderbilt Hospital and placed on the list for a heart transplant.  A mechanical heart (called a Berlin heart) was surgically implanted to aid (take over, really) Luke’s heart function.  His own heart was just too weak and worn out. A month past his first birthday his body needed help to live. Exhausted and weary herself, Emily again and again prayed, “God,anything”.

The nurses and other families with transplant patients admitted to the CICU at Vanderbilt became Emily’s friends and neighbors while they all waited on news of an available organ.  On our occasional weekend visits to see Luke, I was amazed by how many people were there awaiting transplants.  Some families had been there for months with their loved one, having relocated their lives to see to their family member’s needs.

Admitted in July, time rocked on for Luke, Emily and Jason.  A new college football season started, Thanksgiving came and went, and Christmas was celebrated, all within the walls of the CICU.  Luke had good days and bad days, and Emily had to be forced to leave him so she could get rest.

The prayers kept coming and January brought the newness of another year we all come to expect.  More than ever, Emily wanted to receive the call of a heart being available.  She sensed Luke was growing more fatigued, and there were growing concerns of potential complications due to the length of time Luke remained dependent on the Berlin heart.  Those concerns were realized when Luke developed some clots that were hindering the function of the Berlin.

The medical team was brought together and it was decided Luke would have to undergo a surgical procedure to try and capture and rid his body of the clots. With miles between us, I waited by the phone to hear from Emily. The news came via text.  It read, “The results are not good. They’re not able to break up any of the clots. His lungs are full of clots….”

Shock and devastation is how the news was received.  I knew receiving it via text meant Emily was still trying to process the day’s happenings. My husband and I hurt for Luke, Emily and Jason and we prayed for God’s will in the situation, our “God, anything” prayer. We readied for bed and I eventually fell asleep with Emily on my mind so strongly.

The phone ringing in the wee hours of the morning startled me but did not surprise me.  Emily’s tearful voice on the other end sounded so heavy and hopeless.  She could not believe it had come to this.  Luke could be taken off the transplant list due to the clots in his lungs. The doctor’s had exhausted themselves trying to clear the blockage. I listened as she cried, hearing the fear and anguish in her voice.  My husband took my hand (and he prayed) as I tried to find the right words to console her.  Over the course of all these months my words over and over to her had been “better days”.  I told her how we had prayed for God’s will for Luke and, if that meant an eternal homecoming for Luke, that he would be made whole and in no more pain. He had better days ahead of him, no matter what. 

Praying, facing and accepting the “God, anything” prayer can be unbearably hard.  It reminds us to trust, obey and have faith.  It can renew our strength and it gives us hope when we remember God is all knowing and in complete control. Our hearts crushed, we reach surrender and wait for a turning point to come.

For Luke, the newness of another day brought fresh ideas from the medical staff of infusion treatment that could possibly shrink his clots and clear the blockage enough so he might remain on the transplant list. It was potentially very dangerous and would have to be monitored closely for any adverse effects. The procedure was administered and it worked!

Emily updated on social media, sharing the good news with all of those who had been following Luke’s journey.  Again, she asked for everyone to pray for Luke to receive a heart soon. With growing complications from having a mechanical heart in place for so many months, there was a greater sense of urgency in Emily’s request.  And yet she reminded us all of what having an answer to our “God, anything” prayer meant; for our desires to be met, another family (of a potential heart donor), would be giving up everything.

It is written in God’s Word, “Call to me and I will answer you and tell you great and unsearchable things you do not know.”

January 28, 2014 became Luke’s Happy Heart Day! Our anything prayer for Luke answered!

From that day to now I often think about a mother I will never meet, and I wonder when she faced the death of her own child did she utter, “God, anything?” Her willingness to think of others in need- in such an overwhelming time of grief for her and her family- gave life to Luke and strength to carry on to my friend Emily. 

This week we gathered as a family to celebrate Luke turning three! He continues to grow and thrive; a walking miracle, testifying to the greatness of God without speaking a word! He is evidence of how God’s power works through a global community willing to pray and think of others.  We are living better days!

I follow a lot of blogs. One of my favorite blogs will frequently feature the words of others on her space.  I really like that idea.  It introduces me to others who are getting their thoughts out there and inspiring others to do the same.  A few months back I shared words my mother had written years ago about my Great Grandmother.  (It is titled Legacy of Love if you missed it.) I read something recently that said, "Mirror what you admire". So I am going to do just that.

The following is a school assignment written by my eight year old, Sketch.  I asked him if I could share it here. Enjoy!

I opened my iPad up to find a weather alert this morning. There is anticipation of strong thunderstorms later.  I got a text from a sweet friend soon after checking on me. She made mention of the upcoming  weather. I thought to share with her about how many Good Fridays I remembered there being stormy weather. 

The first one being a Good Friday I spent in school. I think I was in about the fourth (maybe third) grade. We were in school on Good Friday making up a snow day. Like today there was anticipation of storms. It was in the afternoon when the wind started to blow and the sky turned dark. I remember feeling scared as we watched the trees bend and day turned to the color of night. I will never forget how our teacher quieted ours fears by telling us Good Friday was about remembering the day Jesus was crucified. She spoke of Scripture that told of how darkness came over the whole land and the sun stopped shining . What she shared in that exact moment has always stuck with me.  Numerous times I know I have witnessed storms on Good Friday. Some might explain it away by saying Good Friday falls in the Spring every year. And Spring in the South is usually stormy. But I can’t help but wonder, does even nature recollect the events of that day? 

I saw the status update “Do this in remembrance of me” the other night and it too made me pause. For believers all of Holy Week is about remembering.  Remembering how the events of the week so long ago is the fulfillment of Scripture written.  Remembering who first loved us and gave His Son. Remembering how He chose to die so that we live. Remembering “This is my body given for you…. This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.” Remembering the tomb is empty because He sits at the right hand of the Father offering intercession for us!  

Last week as we drove north through Tennessee and Kentucky there were all kinds of buttercups along the road. They are my favorite because they are the first sign of Spring, of newness. When I was a little girl my Mom loved the buttercups too. It was our Spring ritual to pick buttercups from the hillside of my Great Grandmother’s place. My Mom also loved the dogwood that grew along the fence row in our front yard. Its blooms visible from the big picture window in the living room. I remember her sharing with us why she loved the dogwood. Like the buttercups it was one of the first signs of the newness Spring brings. Her favorite backdrop to capture how we grew and changed.  How she prayed for us to change and know new life.  When the fence row was cleared she wanted the tree to remain. So she could remember. 

So this Good Friday is a flashback and remember. From darkness and from death comes life. From “It is Finished”  to the celebration of the empty tomb. From a snaggle toothed little girl to a believer who continues to seek.  From brokenness to being made whole in Christ. Look around and notice all the evidence and remember.  

I know it has been a while since my last post. There are several reasons for my absence. First of all, the blog has experienced some technical difficulties. It has been frustrating to say the least. I have discovered there is a whole lot to learn about blogging and all the options for hosting sites. I have spent some time doing some research and hopefully will be back to a more regular posting schedule soon. The mention of schedules brings up the other reasons for the interruption to the blog. Our older two have been playing lots of basketball and this season is very demanding of our time.  Their  teams are champs once again and I plan to write a recap of their awesome seasons soon.  The last reason for my lack of presence here is I am not running. <Big sigh> I started the year off on fire and then I let a few bumps in the road get me down and unmotivated. This is my attempt at getting back on track, and there is no better way to do that than finishing something I started here, introducing those dearest to me.

So without further ado, meet Sketch. He is my number three, our puzzle and constant mystery. My husband has been known to say, "He is always in character. We just don't know what character." He is the only kid I know who has asked Santa for costumes. I'll never forget the Christmas he asked for a Lone Ranger costume and how he visibly shook with excitement as he dressed up Christmas morning. Through the years he has filled our home with every super hero known as well as some of the men behind those masks. For example, he likes asking me to comb his hair like Peter Parker or when dressed in his Sunday best he says he looks like Bruce Wayne. One year he chose his Easter “frock” based on the similar style to Dr. Jones.  He has spent hours playing "Indiana Jones" and until recently would say he wanted to be an archaeologist when he grows up. His first grade year introduced us to a character he drew over and over again, “grown up Sam”. His resemblance to Professor Jones was un-mistakable. We have experienced a young Michael Jackson era, Halloween 2013.  For weeks he watched young Michael Jackson performances on YouTube. His music was all he wanted played in the car. So when he spotted the big “fro” among the accessories down the costume aisle he had his inspiration for his Halloween character.  If he has taught us anything it is that his interests are diverse and ever changing.

I can’t describe this child of mine without sharing with you his love of drawing and writing.  He is a true artist in every sense of the word. One of his favorite things to do is draw picture after picture and staple them together creating a book.  Before he could read or write he would bring his stapled papers and ask us to write the story while he dictated to us what was happening in his illustrations. As he learned to read and write he flourished with a new freedom of how to express what he sees in his imagination. 

He is captivated by a moving picture.  My husband has said he thinks Sketch sees daily life as movie scenes (thus the always in character). He has movies he watches over and over.  He even enjoys watching the version with the Director instructions. When we simply ask how his day was at school he will recount his day in storyline format complete with grand hand gestures for the title (like he sees it in lights on a marquee) and with a role playing of all the people he encountered throughout the day. He amazes us with what seems to be a natural ability to improv.  He and a crazy uncle of mine entertained the whole room one night at a family gathering. It all started with one of them jokingly speaking with a foreign accent.  They hurled zingers and one-liners at each other in all kinds of accents.  My uncle would insult in his best Irish accent and my little guy would answer.  Back and forth they would go each rising to the challenge of the next accent and funnier insult.  The roar of laughter from the family was constant.  The sound only died down for a moment while we waited to see whose brain would fire the quickest. Obviously, it was memorable.

It is instances like this one and others that have clued us into Sketch being special in his own unique way. The kid has never had an emotion he did not want the world to experience with him. His ability to express himself with just a look or a funny face could rival Jim Carey. His willingness to be goofy and sacrifice his whole body to physical humor is astounding. I have often listed comedic greats when trying to describe what is like raising Sketch. He really is delightful and challenging all in the same moment. He is the lovingness little dude. I had a good friend say her son’s love language is Velcro. This is so true of Sketch. My Mom has often noticed how he loves to be near you. For example,he will sometimes be engrossed in playing a game on his DS or iPad. He will be leaned against my Mom with his legs thrown over my Daddy’s lap. You would think he was oblivious to the basketball game being played by his brother or sister. Just completely uninterested in what is going on around him. And then he chimes in on the conversation or later remarks about the happenings you thought he missed. Always aware and attentive to those around him.

He is our baby, and very content in the role. Learning we were expecting him offered my husband and I one of our greatest life surprises.  He is no different than a lot of third children.  Not planned according to our time table.  I will never forget the night my suspicions were confirmed.  The test spelled it out, PREGNANT! All I could do was stare in disbelief.  Then the tears started to flow.  My husband came and found me crying and with a big grin he said, “Well?”  He read the word and his grin turned into the biggest smile! Through my tears and feelings of being overwhelmed I said, “I don’t think you understand.  Our baby girl is only thirteen months old, and we are going to be out numbered now.”  With the peace and calm my husband brings to my life he said, “Oh honey, it is just a matter of changing our defense from man to man coverage to zone defense.” 

So we changed our defense and we run the zone most of the time.  Sketch brought a new dynamic to our family. He up-ed our game! He keeps us all on our toes as we try to match his unrelenting energy. To be such a little guy he never stops, and his wheels are always turning. The hours we have all spent doubled over in laughter at what comes out of his mouth. How we have all marveled at the things he conjures up in his brain. Like my other two he has the gift of quick wit they all inherited from their Dad. But Sketch is different. Before he came along we thought the differences we noticed between our other two were differences due to one being a boy and the other a girl. But Sketch continues to provide evidence that all children are different. He has taught us there is wonder in uniqueness. He has taught me the beauty of the unplanned.

I can’t imagine life without my amusing, entertaining little guy. Like his brother and sister he was the exact amount of God’s goodness when I needed it. But he laid claim to my heart differently. His unexpectedness brings to life words of a poem I first learned when my Granddaddy left this world. My grief stricken Grandmother shared them with us as she planned his life celebration. The poem is reflective in nature. The lines repeat, “I’m drinking from the saucer , ‘Cause my cup has overflowed.” Sketch represents that for me…. The overflow of my cup. The reality of abundant blessings given so freely when I ask and even when I don’t. He is the unspoken desires of my heart, granted. He is what completes our group of five. Our exclamation point! 

My husband and I have often discussed if we possess what it will take to raise our unique little dude with all of his 
diverse interests and talents. Our discussion usually follows one of Sketch’s impromptu performances that leaves us laughing and shaking our heads. What will he do in life? What will he become? We really have no idea. We look at him and see more mystery than certainty. Someone always at work on his incomplete picture. He arrived and our lives were forever changed.  We are now content to sit back and enjoy the show! 

Ahhhhhh!!! The New Year and the changes it can bring.  I have shared here previously the knack my daughter, 3B, has for using words in her own unique way.  For the New Year she kept asking us what our New Year’s Revolutions were.  We would correct her by saying it is New Year Resolutions only to have her say Revolutions the next time.  It was quite comical.  It is just so her! The carefree creativity in the way she thinks made me think too.  Is she on to something?  Should it be revolutions and not resolutions?  Is there a bigger difference in those two words than just that one little letter? 

I think the answer is a resounding YES!!!!  Resolution is defined as “a firm decision to do or not do something; the action of solving a problem…”. A revolution is “a turnaround; a fundamental change in power or organizational structures that takes place in a relatively short period of time.” They both speak of change, but I love how revolution is defined, a turnaround; a fundamental change in power.  I know I choose to see the wisdom in my daughter’s word mix ups.  But is that not more of what we want in the New Year, a change in what has power over us?  We all resolve to eat better and exercise more.  Who doesn’t want to shed those unwanted pounds?  We all resolve to be smarter with our time and money.  We all want to be more organized in our homes, and we want to live our lives more fully. But do we think about it as changing what has power over us?  When we think about there being a revolt from something there is an unspoken fire in the belly mentality.  We associate it with tackling the insurmountable with great force.  We recall up risings brought about by wanting things to be better.  We remember the freedoms that have been won!! There is a resounding YES we can overcome.  It is a battle cry complete with theme music! It is more than a firm decision.  It is an overhaul, a change in structure, a new regime to be celebrated!

So I like my daughter’s misuse of words.  It lights that fire and sets my mind in motion.  It inspires me to make a list of New Year Revolutions!! I want to overcome and I desire change in structure.  I crave freedom from all things that have power over me. Some of them have hung around entirely too long. 

So I have started a list.  And as I contemplate on what to list I am encouraged by a chorus I hear over and over in my head.   I hear let’s have a revolution set to a guitar riff I’m sure echoed at Woodstock.   In playing name that tune with myself, I finally traced it back to Forrest Gump and his time in Vietnam.  A quick Google search helps me out.  The chorus is “Got a Revolution Got to Revolution”.  The title of the song is Volunteers and the group is Jefferson Airplane.  I like the “to” in Got to Revolution.  It is like a call to action.  And the title Volunteers is who is being called.  Year after year we voluntarily make our list of things to improve upon.  This year I am resolute to approach my list with more intensity and a greater sense of urgency!!! The difference that one little letter makes is the unspoken fire in the belly.  It is what keeps the list from fading from our memory as the year passes by. I am planning on a year of “Got to Revolution”!  Are there any other volunteers out there?

The holiday season started for us this year with our Christmas photo.  We were at home (rare for us lately) on a Sunday night.  It was the beginning of December, and if the card was going to happen it had to happen that night. The schedule was just too jammed packed for any other time.  I had made several other suggestions earlier in the day, but no one was thrilled with those ideas.  It looked like it was not going to happen.  Not having a Christmas card would be ending an era for us. Since becoming a family of more than just the two of us I have sent a Christmas card.  The first one featuring the sweetest six month old little boy with his dimples shining in the lights of the Christmas tree. The Christmas card had to happen.  It was just too important of a tradition.  So I walked in the living room and made one last attempt at getting a card done. I suggested a  simple selfie (usie??) and did what all good mothers do..... I laid a guilt trip!!! I made my speech about how for twelve years now I have sent some kind of Christmas card.  They grumbled and groaned, but slowly, came around to my way of thinking.  Oh! the laughter, fussing and fighting, threats thru gritted teeth and tears that transpired in those hundreds of shots!!! Above is the result! Craziness, but together!! Not what I had in mind, but together.  It really does sum up what our holiday season has been like. To be honest, it really sums up what everyday life is like for our family! Crazy, but together.  It does not always go as planned, but comes together. I know others relate and like us would not know how to live any other way.  So as I sit alone in a quiet living room I am thankful we have this time set aside to celebrate and be together!! I do want to wish all a Merry Christmas and leave you with these words from the Grinch himself:

Oh!! And some will be receiving holiday cards from us this year..... like I said earlier, things don't always go as planned. : )

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

I had all these great and wonderful plans for daily posts through the holiday season. And then life happened.  I am not sure where I thought I would find the time.  I know most everyone can relate to what I mean. Are the holidays not just crazy busy?? Every year I say I am going to start earlier.  It never happens.  But today I am making time to share the story below.  It was written years ago by my mother about my great grandmother.  It is a glimpse of the generations of love I was raised in and come from.  No better day to take the time to remember it.  Today would have been my great grandmother's, Selma Lee, birthday.  I leave it in typewriter print to show how things change over time and yet they remain the same.  Enjoy my mother's words: