Urgent Prayer Request

Tonight, I want to pass along a new prayer request. There is a young lady named Molly McKim who lives in Fort Smith. I've never actually met her or her family, but her mom and I have become rather close via emails. We have both experienced the helplessness of watching our daughter's health deteriorate. Molly suffers from a rare genetic disorder called Wilson's Disease, in which the liver does not metabolize copper properly. She was an active, independent college freshman when she suddenly began to suffer from increasingly debilitating neurological symptoms. She had to withdraw from school and has become completely dependent upon her parents, even having to be fed through a PEG tube. It is believed that a liver transplant could fully restore her health, and she has been at the top of the transplant list at UAMS for several months. This evening, the family received word that a liver has become available. They are currently traveling from Fort Smith to Little Rock, and her surgery is scheduled for 4:00 a.m. This is actually the third time they've been called. The first time, Molly was actually on the table, prepped for surgery, when they decided the liver was not healthy enough. The second time, they were on the way, when it was decided that that particular liver should go to someone else. So, please join with me in praying for Molly and her family tonight as they are traveling to Little Rock, and as she undergoes surgery in the morning. I know the emotions must be overwhelming right now. There is a link to her CaringBridge site in the right hand column of my blog, if you would like to follow her story.

Also, please continue to pray for Jedidiah Harper and his family. He has done really well since his surgeries last week, and he will go in tomorrow for his first chemotherapy treatment. An overwhelmingly emotional day for his parents, as well. You can link to his blog from here as well..."Harper House--Jeremiah's Testimony" in the right hand column. In her latest blog, his mom shares how much he's enjoying receiving get-well cards. If you'd like to send him one, here's the address: Jed Harper, P. O. Box 123, Story, AR 71970.

I promise, I will get back to the topic of "joy". I was going to do that tonight, but when I heard about Molly's transplant opportunity, I really felt impressed to share her story with you. Check back soon, and maybe I'll be back on topic!

Spring Break Is Over!

Well, today marks the end of spring break week in Arkansas. For the first time ever, all public schools in Arkansas took the same week for spring break, so there have been lots of people on vacation over the last several days. I've actually spent nearly the entire week by myself, while Brad and Bethany have been on a snow skiing trip with our church youth group. I didn't say anything in my last few posts about them being gone...you can't be too careful about revealing to the world wide web that you are staying alone for a week!

Bethany had never been skiing before, and apparently she took to it like a duck to water. Very unlike her mother. I attempted snowskiing 20-something years ago, and it was a colossal fail. So rather than spend the money to accompany the youth group to Colorado and not ski, I decided to stay home and not ski for free. I am quite content to stay by myself, and I really enjoyed my time alone this week. Of course, I sure was glad to see them yesterday when they got off the bus after their 23 hour ride home. Here are a few pictures from their big adventure:

Hannah "Joy"

On Valentine's Day in 1991, Brad and I went out to eat at a Chinese restaurant in Fayetteville. We didn't often go out to eat, because we were both full-time graduate students and money was tight, but it was Valentine's Day! I remember this dinner mainly because of the message I received in my fortune cookie that night: "A happy event will soon take place in your home." (Or something very similar to that...it was over 18 years ago!) I remember us laughing and discussing how we hoped that meant that I would soon get pregnant. Now, I don't believe in the future-telling abilities of fortune cookies, but within a couple of weeks, the stick turned blue. We were thrilled! The timing was perfect...we would both graduate in August, and our baby was due in early November.

The next several months seemed to crawl by as we wondered if we were going to have a boy or a girl. Finally it was time for the ultrasound...and the baby wouldn't cooperate. The technician could not even guess whether it was a boy or a girl. And of course, the ultrasounds 18 years ago were not anything like they are today! So we spent a lot of time discussing names. We picked out a boy's name that we both liked pretty easily, but choosing a girl's name was a little more difficult. Just a few days before the baby arrived, we finally decided on Hannah Joy. At that time, Hannah was not a common name...it was actually considered a rather old-fashioned name. Since then, of course, it has exploded in popularity...there are little Hannahs everywhere...apparently we started a trend!

When we chose the name, though, we were thinking of the story of Hannah in First Samuel. Hannah was barren and prayed and begged God for a child. She even made a bargain with God...If He would only give her a son, she would give Him back to God to serve him all the days of his life. God answered her prayer and gave her a son who she named Samuel...Can you imagine her joy? But after Samuel was weaned, she kept her promise, saying, "I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of Him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord." Of course, when we named our daughter Hannah Joy, we had no idea how our experience with her would reflect that of the biblical Hannah and her son Samuel.

Hannah loved her middle name...she had her first and middle names both put on the back of her letter jacket. We often called her Hannah "Our Joy", even putting that phrase on her headstone. The name fit her so well...she had a quiet joy about her all the time, even as her health and strength left her. And this joy was apparent to all those who knew her. I've been reminded of her joy again this week, as I've been watching all these home videos. (Yes, I'm still working on my dubbing project!)

So what exactly is joy...and is it possible to have joy when everything is falling apart around you? I have come to believe that it's not only possible...it is commanded in Scripture. More to come in future posts...

Let Me Show You Around...

In our 22 years of marriage, Brad and I have lived in fifteen different residences. We got married while we were still in college at OBU, and lived in a little HUD apartment (#1). Because we were still students and basically had no income (we were living off money we had saved), we were able to live there for free. After I graduated and got my first job as a speech pathologist, the rent was going to skyrocket, so we moved into another apartment that we could actually rent a little bit cheaper (#2). When Brad graduated from OBU, we moved into a triplex in Springdale (#3), and completed our master's degrees in one year. By the time we graduated, we had jobs lined up in Fort Smith, and since we had no reason to stay in Springdale, we got ourselves a housesitting job in Mountain Home (where I was from). For a couple of months, we lived rent-free in a mobile home way out in the country (#4) and babysat a grotesquely obese chocolate lab named Dusty. Brad 'affectionately' called her "Musty." It was really quite comical...We had to promise to keep the temperature in the trailer at a constant 68 degrees and take Dusty for a ride in the car every day. But hey, it was a free place to live!

After a couple months with Dusty, we moved into a duplex in Fort Smith (#5), which is where we brought our first baby, Hannah, home. Good memories there! Then, we bought our first home, a brand new, 1380 square foot home (#6) for $67,900. That is the house we brought Bethany home to, and we lived there longer than we had lived anywhere else up until that point...about three years. Brad's master's degree was in educational administration, so when the Ashdown School District offered him a junior high assistant principal's position, we took off again. We sold our house within just a few days and moved into a rental house in Ashdown (#7). We were there for a year (maybe two...I honestly can't remember right now), when we moved to Crossett, where Brad became the high school assistant principal. In the school administration business, when they offer you a job, they usually expect you to be there within a week or two. The only place we could find to rent on a such short notice was a trailer in a trailer park (#8). It was dirty and hot, and I hated to move my two little girls into it. We started looking for a house to buy right away, found the perfect place for us, and moved into it as soon as we could (#9). It was a great house, but on a very busy through street. Brad's position at the school meant that he was the primary disciplinarian, and before long, we began to have problems with vandalism and harrassment from angry teenagers driving by the house. So...we sold that house and bought another one on a much quieter street (#10), which pretty much solved our teenager problems.

Then, Brad's alma mater came calling, and he was hired as a high school assistant principal in El Dorado. We sold our house in Crossett, (again within a matter of days) and bought a great house in El Dorado (#11). We lived in that house longer than we had lived anywhere up to that point, and we all have very fond memories of that time. Unfortunately, we began to have problems similar to those we had in Crossett, and we decided to sell that house and move to a more secluded location. God sent a sweet older couple to buy that house, and we moved into a rental house out in the country (#12). In December of that year, an assistant principal position (not involving student discipline!) arose with the Cabot School District, and Brad took a position there. We moved into a rental house (#13) and eventually bought a house there (#14). After only a year and a half, we had the opportunity to come to Magnet Cove where Brad would be the high school principal, and we took it. We bought a house (#15), and have been here ever since...almost five years now.

Wow...I really didn't mean to go into so much detail, but once I got rolling, I couldn't stop! I could really make this a long post by telling you how God's hand has been apparent through all of these moves, but I'll save that for another day.

I've been continuing my videotape dubbing project today, and I think we have video in every one of these different homes. Well, at least the ones from the time Hannah was born...that's when we got our video camera as a gift from Brad's parents. We moved so often when the girls were young that we began a tradition of videotaping them giving a tour of each new home. They took great pleasure in showing off every detail of their new bedrooms, the living room, the kitchen, the bathrooms (which always resulted in lots of giggles, for some reason!) and the backyard. The tours always began by the cameraman (usually me) coming up the walk to the front door, which was opened by the girls, who would say, "Come in, come in...let us show you around!"

And as I watched some of these tours by the girls this week, I couldn't help but think about what it will be like to see Hannah again in Heaven someday. I can just imagine her greeting me at those pearly gates, giving me a hug, tucking her arm in mine, and saying, "Come in...let me show you around!" And we'll walk around together, taking all the time we want, her showing me all the sights, which will be far beyond anything I can even begin to dream of. Waaaay better than anything we have on videotape. And there will be no more packing, no more U-Hauls, no more moving. Isn't it great to know that this world is not our home...we are just passing through!

Home Videos

Before Hannah got sick, I had started working on a project...transferring all of our VHS home movies onto DVDs. Well, it's spring break week...time to start working on it again. And this is no small project. We have literally dozens of VHS tapes, representing hours and hours of home videos. I've been putting off picking this project back up, thinking it might be really painful to watch some of these tapes. But the rather irrational fear that something horrible could happen to these priceless tapes has driven me to pull out my VCR/DVD player instruction manual and relearn how to dub VHS to DVD.

I haven't really just sat and watched every minute of the dubbing process...too many other spring break projects to do! But, the bits and pieces that I've watched have really not been painful at all. All the videos of first steps, birthdays, newborn cousins, family pets, school and church programs, and Christmases have been a wonderful reminder of how blessed our family has been. Hannah was such a happy child...in all these videos, she is smiling and laughing, usually at the exploits of her little sister and younger cousins. As I look back on Hannah's growing up years, I am so grateful to be able to say that I have no regrets about how we spent our time together as a family. What a blessing to be able to say that!

"I thank my God upon every remembrance of you." Philippians 1:3

What a Week!

It seems that the blows just keep coming! Last week, we heard the news of little Jedidiah Harper's cancer. I don't know anything other than preliminary updates on him yet...they are going to be getting test results today, which will determine his plan of treatment. Please link to the Harper House blog in the right hand column for the most up-to-date information on Jed, and continue to keep him and his family in your prayers.

Then we heard the news that a true American hero lost his life in Afghanistan, drawing enemy fire away from his squadron, who were pinned down. From what we understand, his brave and selfless actions saved the lives of many American troops. His parents attend our church, and he grew up in Hot Springs. His funeral will be Wednesday, and will be an amazing opportunity for the gospel to be preached to a large and diverse audience. Please pray that God will be glorified in Adam Brown's death, even as He was during his life.

We also received word that a six-year-old boy who has been battling neuroblastoma for the last four years went to Heaven this week. He was quite often in the bed next to Hannah getting his chemo treatments while she got her platelet infusions. He was always happy and playful with the nurses while he was there. A cute little blond-headed boy.

And we received word that the husband of a friend of ours from Crossett passed away this week after battling Alzheimer's disease for several years...much younger than most who are struck down by Alzheimer's, and a very intelligent, strikingly handsome man when we knew him.

Finally, there is this healthcare debacle going on in our nation's capitol. I personally believe our country is headed in the wrong direction, and it's hard to see how we're going to be able to avert disaster for much longer.

I'm sure you could compile a similar list of tragedies and difficulties in your own life and in the lives of those around you. Aren't you glad that this world isn't all there is? One of the things God is teaching me through the experiences of the last two years is the importance of an eternal perspective. From an earthly perspective, all these things seem like tragedies...but God is in full control and has a purpose for all of it...even if we don't understand it in the least.

I love music...I constantly have music playing around me at home, in the car, and even at work when I don't have students with me. And I have a deep love for the old hymns of the faith...songs that, at least at my church, we rarely sing anymore. Now, don't get me wrong...I love all of the contemporary Christian music too...that's what I usually surround myself with...but I really miss singing those old hymns. The lyrics are just so rich, and have much more substance than so many of the songs we sing today. I have a hymnbook at home and I was paging through it this afternoon, looking at some of these hymns, and this one jumped out at me as a good way to close this post today. How sweet to know we can trust Him in all circumstances...

Have Faith In God

Text and Music by B. B. McKinney, 1934

Have faith in God when your pathway is lonely,

He sees and knows all the way you have trod;

Never alone are the least of His children;

Have faith in God, have faith in God.

Have faith in God when your prayers are unanswered,

Your earnest plea He will never forget;

Wait on the Lord, trust His Word and be patient,

Have faith in God, He'll answer yet.

Have faith in God in your pain and your sorrow,

His heart is touched with your grief and despair;

Cast all your cares and your burdens upon Him,

And leave them there, oh, leave them there.

Have faith in God though all else fail about you;

Have faith in God, He provides for His own;

He cannot fail though all kingdoms shall perish,

He rules, He reigns upon His throne.

Chorus: Have faith in God, He's on His throne;

Have faith in God, He watches o'er His own;

He cannot fail, He must prevail;

Have faith in God, have faith in God.

A Request for Prayer

In my last post, I talked about cancer and how many people are affected by it. It has struck close to home again...this time touching a 3-year-old boy named Jedidiah Harper. His mom, Lori, and I have developed quite a good friendship...even though we've actually only met each other once. She has been so supportive of us through our journey, especially since Hannah went to Heaven. She's probably the most faithful reader of this blog, judging by the frequency of her comments! I even have a link to her blog, "Harper House", from my blog. Yesterday, they found out that Jed has rhabdomyosarcoma, a rare and aggressive cancer, and tomorrow, they will be at the Oncology Clinic at Arkansas Children's Hospital. I've shared often about how overwhelming that first visit to the oncology clinic is...you're still just barely able to process the fact that your child has cancer, and suddenly you are sitting in a waiting room with all these bald children. You have to sign permission forms that describe in detail the devastating side effects of the very treatments that are designed to save your child's life (including causing different types of cancer in the future). You hear all these medical terms that you've never heard before in your life, and you have to somehow absorb all this information and make rational, life-altering decisions. You realize that whatever control you thought you had over your life is gone, and that you are going to have to place your precious child's care in someone else's hands. And all you really want to do is just take your child home, tuck them into their own bed, and pretend none of this ever happened. Please pray for Jed and his mom and dad as they go through these frightening experiences tomorrow, and join me in praying for complete healing of Jed's cancer.




In these kind of situations, you just want to ask God, "Why?" I've found that rather than asking "Why", it is much more constructive to ask, "For what purpose?" In chapter 9 of John, the story is told of Jesus healing a blind man. Jesus was asked, "Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" His response: "Neither this man nor His parents sinned...but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life" (John 9:2-3). There is a purpose in suffering, and that is to display the glory of God. It is a huge comfort to me to know that our suffering has a purpose, and it will not go to waste, as long as we are willing to display the glory of God through it. The Harper family is the kind of family who will do that, and I am looking forward to seeing how God will display His work through their lives.

Relay for Life

Last night I attended my second Relay for Life team captain's meeting. And even after over two years of traveling this road, I still couldn't believe I was at a Relay for Life meeting. I'm actually a little embarrassed by the fact that I've never even attended a Relay for Life event. Why would I? Cancer had never really touched my life...it was somebody else's problem, not mine. Sure, I felt bad for those who had it...even prayed for them when asked to. At least until I got busy with something else and forgot about it.

But then we were unexpectedly hurled into the land of cancer. And we sat in waiting rooms at CARTI and Arkansas Children's Hospital with families who were traveling the road ahead of us. We literally spent hours talking with people (actually, Brad did most of the talking...if you know us, that won't surprise you!) whose lives had been turned completely upside down by cancer. We were on a first-name basis with children who received chemo treatments in beds right beside Hannah. Most of those kids we have not seen since we left Children's Hospital for the last time a little over a year ago, but we have followed many of them through the CaringBridge website. Some of them are doing very well, and some of them are not. One of the little guys who we often saw getting his chemo while Hannah was getting platelets has recently discontinued treatments...the doctors have told their family to just enjoy the time they have left together.

It seems like every day I hear of someone new being diagnosed with cancer. Some of them have hit relatively close to home...loved ones of people I love. And then some I've never actually met, but feel that I've known for years. I've mentioned Lauren Crook in this blog before...she's been doing really well, but just last week, a new cancerous spot was found in her sinus cavity. She had surgery on Monday, and is hoping to go to M. D. Anderson for a consult. This makes the fourth time she has battled cancer.

A friend recently sent me an email, telling me about the son-in-law of a mutual friend who has just been diagnosed with cancer. I don't think she'd mind me sharing the last sentence of her email: "Jill, do you ever just wonder what God has in mind....there is so much sadness and so much bad stuff that happens to good people....people that are Christian and love Him....". It took me a couple of days to reply. I don't know the "Sunday School" answer to that question, but here's what I've learned over the last two years. The struggles and grief of this life serve to make us yearn for Heaven. Why would we desire a relationship with the Lord and look forward to Heaven if we were living in Eden here?

I really think that from here on earth, God's plan is sometimes awfully hard to see. To us, it looks like the bottom side of a cross-stitch project, without an apparent pattern and with a whole lot of loose strings. But God sees the top side, the beautiful result of all those different threads coming together in perfect order. He's the master designer...He knows what He's doing...and He is good, all the time.

But Even If He Does Not...

I have such great memories of the little church where I grew up...First Baptist Church of Phillips, Wisconsin. Every Wednesday afternoon, my brother and I would walk from school to church for CYF. There were probably only about 10 or 12 kids that came, but our pastor, Arlo Little, was there every single Wednesday to play games with us and teach us a Bible lesson. When it was warm enough outside, we would play baseball (that's when I discovered that I was not an athlete). When it was cold outside, which was pretty much the whole school year, we would play games in the basement of the church, where we had our Bible story time. My favorite one involved a pincushion which the pastor would hide somewhere in our meeting room (it seemed like a huge room at the time, although I think it was actually quite small) and we would have to find it. He would tell us if we were hot or cold until we found it, and then we would do it all over again. I remember the excitement of getting warm, then warmer, then steaming, then boiling, then blazing as we got closer and closer to that little pincushion. I liked the games, but I loved it when he would tell the Bible story and get out the flannel graph stuff. I loved the flannel graph background, looking like it had been drawn with colorful pastels, and all those flannel-backed figures, dressed in their Bible-time robes. I especially loved the animals...the camels, donkeys, and sheep. I learned lots of Bible stories in that basement in northern Wisconsin.

Yesterday morning, I was reading my daily excerpt from "The One Year Book of Hope" by Nancy Guthrie (an excellent book for anyone who has experienced the loss of a loved one) and she referenced the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and the fiery furnace. I was immediately back in that church basement, seeing those flannel graph figures and hearing the story told by my pastor. And yesterday evening, I was reading "Letters from the Land of Cancer" by Walter Wangerin, Jr., (an excellent book for anyone traveling through the land of cancer) and, would you believe, he referenced the same story. And both authors emphasized a part of the story that I had never really given much thought to before.

You may remember that Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were thrown into the fiery furnace because they refused to worship a gold statue of the Babylonian king. Here's what they said to the king, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God whom we serve is able to save us. He will rescue us from your power, Your Majesty. But even if He does not, Your Majesty can be sure that we will never serve your gods or worship the gold statue you have set up." Daniel 3:16-18.

I've always thought of them as Biblical heroes because they refused to bow down to an idol, even under threat of death. And while that was heroic, I've decided that their real heroism is reflected in the statement, "But even if He does not...". On the surface, it may look like they were giving God an escape clause, something to protect His reputation in case they burned up in the furnace. But I don't think so. They didn't pretend to know what God would do, nor did they try to tell Him what to do. I think they trusted Him to the point that they knew whatever He would do what was right, even if it resulted in their death. God was God however He chose to act.

This was the same understanding we came to as we watched Hannah's life slowly leave her. That "even if He does not", we would continue to trust Him. And I've seen this attitude replicated in the lives of several of the cancer patients we've come to know as we've traveled this journey. We've been asked by a friend to help her choose music for her own funeral, and this afternoon I will be burning a CD of songs for her to listen to. She has such a glowing peace about her as she contemplates her own death, which, according to her doctors, is approaching. She knows that "even if He does not" heal her in this life, He will in the next. What a difference it makes when we face life, and death, with this kind of attitude!

Farewell, February...

I'm not normally a crier...I hate to cry in front of people, even my own family members. I don't even cry very often when I'm alone. But there are times when the tears get started and they just won't stop.

One of those days was in September of 2008. I had an appointment to get a haircut that day, and I almost canceled it, knowing that I was pretty emotionally shaky. But I decided to go ahead and go, because I wasn't sure when I would have another chance to get my hair cut. It had been seven months since Hannah's surgery, and she had had several clear MRIs at that point. But she had begun having some symptoms that were very alarming, and an MRI was scheduled for the next day. I knew, deep down inside, that the cancer was back, and I was already beginning to see signs that Hannah was leaving us bit by bit. I walked into the beauty shop that day and the first thing my hairdresser asked was how Hannah was doing. I immediately started crying and never stopped the whole time I was there. And I got highlights and a haircut that day, so I was there for a long time. It wasn't a sobbing, noisy kind of crying...just a steady flow of tears that I could not stop. And since I am incapable of talking while I'm crying, I couldn't even tell my hairdresser about the MRI scheduled for the next day. Thankfully, she understood, and pretty much kept up a one-sided conversation the whole time, without requiring anything from me. I can't imagine what the other customers thought about me. I was just glad to get out of there that day! Of course, there have been plenty of other tear-filled days over the past two years, but this one just really stands out in my memory because it was so unlike me.

Today was another one of those days. For some reason, church seems to be one of the most emotionally difficult places for me to be. The music and worship time always seems to bring out the emotion in me...especially songs about Heaven. And with this weekend being the anniversary of Hannah's entrance into Heaven...well, this morning was especially tough. Usually I can pull it together during the sermon, but not today. The tears just kept coming. It felt like February of 2008 and February of 2009 were both crashing in on me at once. And I think Brad and Bethany both felt the same way. We are so grateful for our church family...they have really been there to support us throughout our journey...and they were there for us again this morning. We've actually been amazed at how many cards, notes, emails, hugs, etc., we've gotten all week long...not just from our church family, but from so many of our brothers and sisters in Christ. Thank you.

Anyway, I'm glad to have this February in our rear view mirror. There are a couple more milestones in March...the first marks a year since Hannah's celebration service, and the second marks a year since we buried her physical body...but those memories don't seem to be as difficult. Maybe because I honestly don't remember them very well! A year ago tonight was the visitation...and although I clearly remember the length of the line of people, there's not much more I remember about that evening. The funeral and burial are also mostly a blur. I really think God gives us a period of numbness to help us survive those early days of grief. What I do remember about the funeral is that the gospel was clearly presented, and that there were people saved. For that I am thankful...and I'm sure Hannah was pleased.

"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away." Revelation 21:4

One Year in Heaven

Honestly, I'm at a bit of a loss for what to post this morning. I had thought I would share some of the events of this day from a year ago...but my mind just won't compose itself enough to do that. I guess that will be another day's post.

All I can really say is that over the past year (really two years) we've seen that God is faithful, even the most difficult circumstances, and that He can be trusted, even when the darkness is impenetrable. We've seen the power of prayer to give strength when the thought of putting one foot in front of another is almost unbearable. And we've seen the love of Christ demonstrated through His people...we continue to receive cards, letters, emails, and Facebook messages from those who are praying for us almost daily. We've learned that it is possible to be completely heartbroken and yet experience deep joy at the same time. We've survived lower lows than we ever thought possible, and come through it stronger. We've found ourselves forever bonded with other families who have lost children...some of whom we've never even met! And we've learned the art of appreciating every moment we are given. And we realize that a year ago today was the best day of Hannah's life!

At Hannah's celebration service, we had a song by MercyMe played during a slide show of her life, and I think the words truly capture how those of us who loved her the most -- including her grandparents, her aunts and uncles, her cousins, and her friends -- are feeling today. It's called "Homesick".

"You're in a better place, I've heard a thousand times
And at least a thousand times I've rejoiced for you
But the reason why I'm broken...The reason why I cry
Is how long must I wait to be with you?

I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is then I'm out of place
Lord won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now.

Help me Lord because I don't understand Your ways
The reason why I wonder if I'll ever know
But even if You showed me the hurt would be the same
Because I'm still here so far away from home.

In Christ there are no goodbyes
In Christ there is no end
So I'll hold onto Jesus with all that I have
To see you again.

I close my eyes and I see your face
If home's where my heart is then I'm out of place
Lord won't you give me strength to make it through somehow
I've never been more homesick than now."

We love you, Hannah Joy, and we can't wait to see you again!

More Hospice Blessings...

On the Sunday before Hannah went to Heaven on Thursday, we received not one, but two, very special phone calls. The first call came from Mark Hall, the lead singer of Casting Crowns, the group that sings the song "Praise You in the Storm". He had received word of Hannah's story and her prayer for a storm from church members in Atlanta. There were several family members and close friends there that day, and we put him on speakerphone so everyone could hear him. He encouraged us and talked about how Hannah's testimony was already touching lives and how he believed there would be more lives touched in the future. The song "Praise You in the Storm" was such a blessing to us throughout Hannah's illness...it almost seemed as if it were written just for our family. It was wonderful to be able to let him know how much that song has meant to us and how God has touched our lives through their music.

The second call was from the winner of American Idol three years ago, Jordin Sparks. A special person (who, at that time, we had not even actually met) arranged for this to happen because he had been following Hannah's story through our emails and knew she was a big fan of American Idol. Although Hannah was unable to talk to Jordin, it seemed that she was able to hear her and understand what was being said. Jordin was wonderfully gracious and even sang part of Hannah's favorite song, "No Air." I was amazed at how bubbly and poised Jordin was. I can't imagine that she had ever been in that situation before...talking to someone very close to her age who was dying of cancer and couldn't even talk back to her. She was great, and we will always appreciate her kindness.

By far the greatest blessing that came from our time in hospice were the stories of people who began a relationship with Jesus Christ for the first time, directly due to Hannah's story. How awesome and humbling to know that our daughter's storm was being used to change people's lives for eternity!

Blessings

In this series of posts I've been doing about February memories, I would be remiss if I didn't include some good memories along with the bad. It is a testament to God's goodness that there are some real blessings to share from last February.

On Hannah's last day at Children's Hospital before we moved to hospice, some dear friends brought us a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Hannah ate a couple bites of one and remarked, "These are good, but they're not as good as spudnuts." Now, if you're wondering what in the world a "spudnut" is, let me fill you in. In El Dorado, Arkansas, there is a little hole in the wall called the Spudnut Shop, where they make the most delicious doughnuts in the world. I am told that they are made with potato flour...thus the name. If you are willing to stand in a long line on a Saturday morning, you can experience the sweet sensation of a hot spudnut melting in your mouth. We lived in El Dorado for several years, and picked up spudnuts for breakfast probably more often than we should have. There is even a Facebook group dedicated to El Dorado Spudnut Fanatics, from which I stole these pictures.



Anyway, in my email update that evening, I mentioned that she had said that...mostly for the benefit of all our friends from El Dorado who share our love for the spudnut. Would you believe that the next day a man showed up at the hospice center with four dozen spudnuts? And he wasn't from El Dorado...he was from Fort Smith, and had driven from there to El Dorado and then to Little Rock to bring Hannah these spudnuts. And that's not all...in the next few days, we received three dozen more spudnuts...one box even arriving in the mail. I think every nurse at the hospice center, every visitor, and every family member got to sample a spudnut at some point during the eight days we were there. We had a lot of fun with those spudnuts, and were absolutely awed by people's kindness in providing them to us.

Another kind of fun memory we have from that time is when Brad's brother Mark (better known as "Sully" to most people) came into Hannah's room one evening. Now Mark is...how I shall I say this politely...a rather large man, sort of a gentle giant. As soon as he greeted her, she said, "Uncle Mark...You look like you've lost weight." We got a real kick out of this because this was vintage Hannah...she was a natural encourager, and she was always saying things like that to people. At this point, Hannah's vision had deteriorated to the point where she really could see very little, so we knew she really couldn't see him. She also had not spoken much at all in a couple of days. We were able to have a little bit of conversation with her that evening, and it turned out to be our last real conversation we had with her. We just thought it was neat that Hannah began this conversation with an encouraging word for her uncle. It was also a real blessing to have Hannah's Uncle Mark there with us...he was between jobs, so he spent quite a bit of time with us during those eight days...running errands, answering the innumerable phone calls, etc. It was also a blessing that by the time that week ended, he had two job offers.

Our entire family was a blessing to us during that hospice period, but we felt especially fortunate to have my brother and sister-in-law, who are missionaries in Indonesia, with us during that time. They stay on the mission field for 3 1/2 years at a time, and get to come home for six month furloughs. Their furlough had begun in December, so they got to spend some quality time with Hannah before her health really deteriorated, and they were able to share the last days of her life with us as well.

We were blessed to have many wonderful visitors during that time, but I was especially touched by the visits from Hannah's friends. I am sure that I would not have had the courage to visit someone dying of cancer when I was in high school, but these girls bravely came in to see their friend. Three of them came in together. They were on their way to a youth retreat weekend, and as they were leaving, Hannah said, "Y'all have fun." Again, a surprise to those of us who rarely heard her speak in those days.

There are a few more blessings to share... but I'll save those for another day.

Hospice

A year ago at this time we were just getting settled in to the hospice center in Little Rock. After our doctor had confirmed what we already suspected...that there was nothing more that could be done for Hannah medically...we had spent the next couple of days trying to make hospice arrangements. Most of the time, hospice care does not provide anything that's considered "life sustaining", such as blood products...their main purpose is simply to make the patient as comfortable as possible as death nears. However, we very much wanted Hannah to be able to have platelet infusions, to prevent any more bleeding like what she experienced on her last morning at home. It took a few days to work out those details with the hospice center...they had to agree to do the infusions, and our insurance had to agree to pay for it.

When we finally got all the approvals, it was time to move. I was so nervous about moving Hannah...she was in such a weakened state, I could not imagine how she was going to tolerate the ambulance ride from the hospital to hospice. As a matter of fact, for me, the moving process was the most excruciating part of the entire journey up to that point. First there were the good-byes to all the nurses who had taken such good care of us for so long. Then the ambulance guys came to the room with a rolling guerney. They deftly lifted her onto it and strapped her on. It was so hard to see how small and fragile she looked on there...with her downy soft, baby fuzz just beginning to grow back on her head. She was awake, but her eyes were closed. It seemed like they rolled her through the entire hospital to get to where the ambulance was parked. We were all trailing along behind, lugging all of our belongings, and trying not to meet the sympathetic eyes of the people we passed in the halls. I felt sure everyone knew where we were going...we were clearly leaving, and one look at Hannah would have told them we were not coming back.

We finally got outside where the ambulance was waiting, and they loaded her in. When we were still up in the room, we had asked them if Bethany and I could ride with Hannah in the ambulance, and they had told us only one of us could ride with her...policy, you know. Bethany really, really wanted to ride with her, and we had decided we would let her do it, so she could have that the memory of that time with her sister. My heart was breaking, though...I couldn't imagine not being with her for that ride. After they loaded Hannah up, one of the ambulance guys leaned out and said, "Do you still want to ride with us?" He didn't have to ask me twice...I jumped right in! Bethany sat in the front with the driver, and I sat in the back on a little ledge near Hannah's feet...I was so thankful that they broke their policy for just this one time! We drove through the city of Little Rock in no hurry, no siren blaring...just a quiet ambulance, surrounded by cars full of people going on with their daily routines. I could see them through the windows, and I was amazed at how normal their lives all seemed to be. The ambulance guy was so kind...he made some effort at conversation, and I tried, but I really couldn't talk to him. So he started filling out some paperwork and asked me a few questions, including what Hannah's social security number was. I knew her number, but at that moment, I could not, for the life of me, remember what it was. After I hemmed and hawed around for a little while, Hannah shocked both of us by reciting it! At that point, I really didn't think she was awake, much less aware of our conversation. It was just like her to know something like that, and to answer for me when I was stumped!

We finally arrived at the hospice center, and they rolled her in and transferred her from the guerney to her new bed there. Once we got her settled in and sleeping, we left her with family members and went to the hospice office and did all the necessary paperwork. The center had about 20 rooms, and only about 5 were in use at the time, so they very graciously allowed our family to have the use of two rooms. Hannah and I stayed in one room together, and Brad and Bethany had a room right next door. They also put us at the end of a wing, where there was a very nice, large sunroom...a perfect place for our family to gather and hang out together. We basically had that whole wing to ourselves. It couldn't have been a better set up for our family.

Like I said, the day we moved to the hospice center was excruciating for me. When they put Hannah on that guerney and started rolling her out of the very familiar setting of Arkansas Children's Hospital's gold floor, it felt as though whatever little bit of control we might have had in the situation was finally completely gone. The process of giving Hannah up had begun. The weight of that as we rode in the ambulance made it difficult for me to even sit upright. And as we entered the hospice center for the first time, the sense of finality was overwhelming...knowing that whenever we left that place, we would be leaving without Hannah.

Yet, even in the midst of the devastating emotions of that day, God gave peace. I don't know how...I can't explain it. Looking back at it today, I really don't know how we survived it...the only possible explanation is that God carried us through it. There were so many people praying for us, and I really believe that is what kept us going. And then there was the knowledge that when Hannah did leave that place, her next destination was Heaven. There would be no more ambulance rides, chemo treatments, platelet infusions, or radiation sessions. And what could be sweeter than that?

"And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:7

February 16th

Well, tonight marked the official end of Bethany's junior high basketball career. All the winter weather last week caused their district tournament to be postponed until Saturday. They played two games on Saturday and won both, putting them into the finals of the tournament. I've included a couple of pictures below...

The finals were tonight, and unfortunately, Bethany's team came up short. They were beaten by the one team who had beaten them all year. So that ends their junior high season with a record of 21-2. But that doesn't mean the end of basketball this year...now that the junior high season is officially over, the freshman players can move up to the high school team. So as of tomorrow night, she will be playing with the senior high during their district tournament this week. Good thing we like watching basketball!

February 16th doesn't just mark the end of junior high basketball in our family...it also marks the anniversary of Hannah's last day in our home. A year ago this morning, I went into Hannah's room about 4:30 in the morning to find that she had been bleeding heavily from her mouth and nose. She had been battling low platelets for a long time, and she was taking a chemotherapy drug which had hemorrhage as a primary side effect. I called Brad in to her room and we tried to decide whether to call an ambulance or not. We really didn't want to do that and scare Bethany to death, so we loaded Hannah up in the car and headed to Little Rock as fast as we dared to drive, figuring we could stop at the hospital in Benton on the way if we needed to. We called a precious neighbor to come over to our house to stay with Bethany, who we left sleeping in her bed. One amazing thing about that morning is that Hannah was not in any distress...she really didn't even seem to be aware that there was a problem. If she had been panicking, it would have been much harder for us to hold it together that day. We arrived at Children's Hospital in about 40 minutes (it's a 50 mile drive), and came in through the ER. By this time, the blood flow had nearly stopped.

An MRI was scheduled for that morning. And again, we were amazed at Hannah's calmness and peace as she lay in that tube for nearly an hour. We were admitted and platelet infusions were begun. By this time, a lot of our family had arrived, including Bethany, who was brought to the hospital by Brad's brother. Our doctor came in that afternoon and shared with Brad and me that the results of the MRI were "disturbing"...the cancer had progressed rapidly and had spread pretty much throughout her brain. He described what we could expect in the upcoming days...that the tumors around her brainstem (which controls the automatic functions of the body like blood pressure and respiration) were slowly going to cause her blood pressure to rise and would ultimately cause her brain to stop telling her body to breathe. Then he came into the room and told Hannah that there was no more that could be done for her medically. Hannah clearly understood what he was telling her and accepted the news with grace and without fear. Later that afternoon, while family members sat with Hannah, we met with the hospital social worker and worked out the details of transferring her to a hospice center. That night, there were no beeping monitors and no nurses coming in and out of our room all night. It was actually somewhat of a relief to be freed from all of that.

We didn't know when we helped Hannah out the door that morning that it would be the last time she would be in this house. We are so, so, so grateful that God led us to go to a hospice center for Hannah's final days rather than trying to take care of her needs at home. I am so glad that those difficult memories are not associated with this house. But it is so hard to believe that it's been a year since her physical presence was last in this living room where I am sitting tonight. Her absence has left a gaping, empty hole in our home and in our family. How thankful I am that God's presence is here in our home helping to fill that painful hole.

Just before I started this post tonight, I read a new comment on my previous post. You can see it yourself if you click on the comment section under the last post. The writer told me that this week marks a year since her best friend was saved, directly due to Hannah's storm, and that her friend has been on fire for the Lord ever since. What amazing timing for me to read tonight, as the waves of grief threaten to overturn the ship. Hannah's storm had a purpose, and that continues to be confirmed, even today, a year after one of the most difficult days of our lives. God's timing is always perfect, even when it's hard to see through the wind and waves!

Valentine's Day

OK...so I know it's not really Valentine's Day yet, but it feels like it is. I think having Valentine's Day fall on a Sunday makes it feel like it lasts all weekend long, including the Friday before!

I've never really been a big fan of Valentine's Day. It has always seemed like a very commercialized holiday to me...just an excuse to sell a bunch of flowers, candy, and cards. I guess that's the cynic in me. And now this day has some really difficult memories associated with it.

The first symptoms of Hannah's brain tumor appeared two years ago on Valentine's Day. She woke up with a terrible headache and nausea, and was unable to go to school that day. She was disappointed to miss that day, because she really enjoyed Valentine's Day (not being a cynic like me!). Those symptoms recurred over the next few days, and you know the rest of that story.

Last year at this time, Hannah's condition was really deteriorating. Like I said in my last post, she was sleeping about 20 hours out of every day, and was becoming very confused and disoriented. At this point, she was eating only Special K cereal, oranges, and microwaveable fettucini alfredo. She would wake up in the middle of the night, and want Special K, an orange, and some fettucini. Then she would wake up in the afternoon, and want Special K, an orange, and some fettucini. Of course, we gave her whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it. Most of the time she sat in her bed and ate, but sometimes she'd come sit in the recliner in the living room for awhile.

Brad has always gotten the girls roses on Valentine's Day, and last year was no exception. They always look forward to getting this special gift from their Dad on Valentine's Day. Last year, Hannah got a lot of enjoyment out of her roses. She had almost no short-term memory by this time, and so everytime she saw the roses, it was like she had just received them for the first time. She would say, "Oh, Daddy...they're so pretty. Thank you!" This was huge, because she really was talking very little at this point. Believe me, it meant so much to him!

Last year, Bethany went to the 7th & 8th grade Valentine's dance, where she was crowned queen for the evening. The vote was taken during the school day, and her teacher called to let me know that she had won. She thought I would like to be there to see her crowned. Of course, I went. Bethany looked beautiful, and I was so glad I was able to be there for her big moment. But it was a very surreal experience for me...for one thing, I had hardly been out of the house at all (other than to Children's Hospital and back) for several weeks, and it was difficult to face all the wonderful, concerned people who wanted to know how Hannah was doing. It was hard to know how to answer that question when she was doing so badly. And how strange it was to see one daughter at a dance so vibrant and alive, while the other daughter was at home just a shell of her former self. The swirl of emotion that night was indescribable.

And that brings us to this year. My heart aches for Brad, who will only get to purchase a bouquet for one daughter. He misses Hannah so badly. His grief is always right at the surface, but his faith in God's goodness is unwavering. He's been such an amazing example to me. On Saturday night (Valentine's Eve), our senior high basketball teams will play their last regular season games. It was supposed to be on Tuesday night, but because of all the winter weather, it's been rescheduled for Saturday. The last game of the year is always "Senior Night", where each senior athlete is recognized, and comes out to the middle of the gym to stand with their parents. The announcer tells all about them...who their parents are, what sports they've played, what they like to do, etc. As the manager of the girls' basketball team, Hannah would have been one of those recognized, and we would have walked out on the floor with her. Instead, she's in Heaven, and we will be sitting in the bleachers watching this year's seniors and their parents. Just another reason to not really be looking forward to Valentine's Day this year. And just another reminder that while Hannah is where she was created to be, we are definitely out of place. And just another reason to look forward to the day when God sets all things right.

One of my favorite songs right now is by J. J. Heller, and the chorus goes like this -- "When my world is shaking, Heaven stands. And when my heart is breaking, I will never leave Your hands." So thankful that in this shaking, heart-breaking world, He is always there!

Another Snow in Arkansas

This weekend, the Hot Springs area was hit by another winter storm. It was kind of a surprise...at least for our area. They had forecast snow just for the parts of the state north of Little Rock, so we were quite surprised to wake up to this Monday morning. School has been canceled for the last two days, and Bethany has been having some fun. I guess you know you're a redneck if you can sled on an inch of snow!

And they're actually talking about more snow possibly on Thursday night, and then again on next week! We'll see...

A year ago today Hannah's doctor broached the subject of hospice care with us for the first time. It was not an unexpected conversation, but was just so surreal. We had spent the first few days of February inpatient at Arkansas Children's Hospital due to fever and neutropenia (extremely low immunity) and during that hospitalization, she began sleeping almost around the clock. Hannah's original tumor (which was regrowing) was located in the pineal region of her brain, where melatonin is produced. Melatonin is the chemical your body produces that regulates your sleep patterns. Our doctor explained that some people who have tumors in this area suffer from insomnia, and some sleep all the time. We were thankful that Hannah was able to sleep, although we hated that it took away from our time with her. After talking with the doctor that day, we decided that it was time for Brad and Bethany to stop going to work and school (I had stopped working several months before) so that we could spend as much time together as possible. That was a good decision...those days together were precious, but very difficult.

I'll close tonight with a quote I saw recently...It's simple, but true. "Unshakeable faith is faith that has been shaken." I love that!

February

I realize we're already a week into February, but this evening is the first opportunity I've had to sit down and share my feelings about this month. February has not been good to us the last two years. Two years ago this month Hannah first began experiencing some strange symptoms. A few days later we found out she had a brain tumor and a few days after that she had brain surgery. One year ago this month she left our home for the last time, and ten days later left this life for Heaven. We have many very difficult memories associated with the month of February. I plan to share some of them as we go through these upcoming days. I actually think it's therapeutic for me to write about some of these things...it helps me sort through my thoughts and feelings.

Brad and I have had some time alone this evening while Bethany is at a Superbowl party at our church. We were discussing someone we know who is currently battling cancer and could possibly be going to Heaven soon, and Brad said, "You know...I'm actually kind of jealous." I knew exactly what he meant...and I agreed with him. Now, don't be thinking that someone needs to stage an intervention. Neither one of us really wants to go to Heaven before it's God's time for us. But our perspective on life and death certainly has changed. There is no fear or dread of death...when it comes, we'll be ready.

And now, it's back to watching the Superbowl for the evening. I think Hannah would have been pulling for the Colts...she kind of liked the Manning brothers!

OK...Finally the Weekend Update!

Ahhhh...a few moments of solitude. Brad and Bethany have gone to church for the evening, and I stayed home to try to get caught up on everything I've fallen behind on since even before our weekend trip. I have really enjoyed this basketball season, but I'm about ready for it to be over...and it will be in about 2 1/2 more weeks! Hopefully things will finally slow down a little bit after that!

So the weekend began with a major winter storm hitting Arkansas on Friday. As you know, our Saturday morning flight was canceled, but we were able to re-book for 2:40 on Saturday afternoon. As we started to the airport this morning, this is what the trees looked like:

And the mailboxes:


And the interstate to Little Rock:

It was slow going, as you can see. Good thing we left early...we made it to the airport in plenty of time to get through security and board the plane, which left promptly at 2:40. We landed in Chicago around 4:30, and were met by my cousin, Sharon, her husband, Mike, and her two youngest daughters, Rebecca and Courtney. Mike is an incredibly talented cabinet maker and woodworker, and he is currently working on a job in the Trump Tower in downtown Chicago. So they took us on a little side trip to the 86th floor of the Tower, where we visited what best could be described as a penthouse apartment. This is what you saw when you looked out the window (which was basically an entire wall of this apartment):

Incredible, huh? I'm not sure I'd actually want to live there, but I wouldn't mind staying there for a week or two! Then we went out for some Chicago-style pizza (what else?) and headed to their house in DeMotte, Indiana...about a 90-minute drive from Chicago.

We got up the next morning and went to Mike & Sharon's church, where we had the opportunity to share God's goodness through Hannah's story during the Sunday School hour. We talked with many wonderful people while we were there, but were especially blessed by two of our visits. One was with a man named Richard whose precious mother lives in Arkansas, attends our church, and is a part of the Anchor of Hope cancer ministry. She is bravely battling ovarian cancer with the most wonderful, positive attitude. We met Richard one time when he was visiting Arkansas from Indiana, nearly two years ago, when his mom was first diagnosed...about the same time that Hannah was. We struck up a bit of a friendship at that time, and we've become quite close to his mom, so it was great to get to have the opportunity to see him again.

The other special visit was with a couple who lost their daughter, Jill Marie, to cancer ten years ago when she was 17 years old. It's kind of an interesting story how we came to know this couple...a little over ten years ago, we visited my family in Indiana, and once again, we were touring a property that Mike had done some cabinet work in. It was actually a Tour of Homes type event, and several builders had homes on display. One in particular caught my eye, because the home itself was called "The Jill Marie". It caught my eye because Jill Marie is my name...I'd never heard of anyone with my exact same name! My cousin Sharon explained to me before we toured the home that the builder had recently lost his daughter to cancer, and their family had named the home after her. As we walked through the house, there were some family pictures displayed, and I remember looking at those pictures of Jill Marie and their family and thinking, "Wow...I cannot imagine losing a child"...never dreaming, of course, that I would be in the same situation someday. Well, after Hannah went to Heaven, Sharon introduced Jill Marie's mom and I to each other via email. We've corresponded several times over the past year, and she's been such an encouragement to me...demonstrating that it is possible to not only survive, but thrive, after such a loss. We finally got to meet her and her husband in person at church Sunday morning, and then she attended the Princess Tea that evening as well. The bond that exists between parents who've lost children is an incredible thing...it is instant and lasting. I think that their Jill Marie and our Hannah Joy would have been good friends here on earth...and I have to believe they've met in Heaven.

After church, we returned to my cousin's house and had a nice afternoon visiting with them and my aunt and uncle. We brought Bethany and Courtney to one of the youth leader's homes so they could get their hair and make-up done for the tea, and then headed to the center where it was being held about 4:45. It was beautifully decorated in pinks, greens, and oranges. I wish I had pictures to share, but our camera was temporarily misplaced and I didn't have it for the evening. The girls started arriving shortly thereafter and they all looked beautiful. I'm not sure how many actually came, but they were expecting about 95. I do have a few pictures to share which my aunt emailed to me...

Bethany and Courtney:

Bethany, Courtney, Rebecca, and my Aunt Kay:

Me, Sharon, and Rebecca:

The dinner was delicious! Several girls led in praise and worship music, and there was a really cool mixer activity where the girls were each given a different color of sand which they poured in layers into the vases on the table, symbolizing the unity we have as the body of Christ. Each one also got to create her own sand globe to take home, using the different colors of sand.

Finally, it was time for me to share. Many of the girls in attendance had followed Hannah's story from the beginning through the emails....I really didn't realize how many until afterward. Nearly all of them knew at least something about her story. And the telling of her story brought out a lot of emotion from them...making it difficult for me to continue a couple of times. I encouraged them to stay strong in their faith through their storms and to make sure they were prepared for life's storms by having a growing relationship with God. After I finished, one of the leaders provided all of the girls with pens and paper and asked them to write me a note. The highlight of the evening for the girls was a coronation, complete with a tiara, and a reminder to each individual girl that she was a daughter of the King. It was a beautiful and meaningful way to end a special night.

Afterwards, we headed back to Mike & Sharon's house, tired but revived. The next morning we were up at 3:45, at O'Hare by 6:30, on the plane at 8:30, and home by about 11:30. Bethany and Brad were at school by noon, so she could play basketball that night. A very quick, but extremely rewarding, trip.

I didn't read the notes from the girls until Monday afternoon. I was overwhelmed by their honesty, openness, and willingness to share their hearts. So many shared how they have been impacted by Hannah's story. As I read them (and there is a huge stack of them), I could only imagine what Hannah would think. How her prayer that God would use her through a storm has been answered far beyond what she could ever ask or imagine. And how humbling it is to think that God could possibly use me as an instrument to share His glory through her story...all I can do is shake my head and pray that I will be found worthy.

For all of you who prayed for our safety and for the speaking events on this trip...thank you. We could never share like this without your prayer support. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

This Weekend

I've been trying to get an update on here ever since we got home from Indiana on Monday...but it's late tonight, and I'm ready for bed. We landed in Little Rock about 10:15 yesterday morning and have been running ever since...basketball last night and tonight, with more to come on Thursday and Friday. Hopefully I'll have some time tomorrow night to update. I'm anxious to share all of our experiences and blessings, and I want to take the time to do it right. So check back soon, and hopefully there will be an update!