When I started this blog, 6 years ago, I wanted to deal with the stillbirth of our daughter. I had just started reading Angie Smith's blog about the loss of her baby, and Steven Curtis Chapman's daughter, Maria, had just died. I saw how healing writing out your feelings can be. My blog has been a blessing to me as I have worked out these feelings, and I am thankful for it. However, it has morphed into much more--stories about my family, stories about our friends, and stories about my joys and struggles with mommy-hood. Today, our Faith would be 11 years old. So, in honor of her birthday, I am unrolling a new look for my blog, as well as a new title "Stepping Out in Faith". It will still have the same URL www.morethanihopedfor.com because for now, that's just easier, and I like easier.

I stink at making New Year's resolutions--just ask me about the one where I was going to learn to start saying "no" to stuff...avoidance and hiding have been better, albeit less healthy, techniques I have implemented. However, this year is about being brave. I love to write, but I have been held back by fear. I am terrified of failure. I have feared that I have nothing to say, nobody will understand what I am saying, and noone will read it. But, this year, I have learned that I have a lot to say, friends have been incredibly encouraging, and the people that I love read it, so that's enough for me...for now. So, as long as God gives me words, I am going to write them. And I am going to set the a goal of writing one post per week. I know, a WHOLE post EVERY week. I am sure you're thinking, "can she really do that?" I assure you, I will fail at it. But I figured if I set the bar pretty low, I will succeed more than I will fail, so, there you go. .

So, here is to a New Year filled with Bravery (15 days late, but that's how I ALWAYS roll)!

My Samantha Doll

There are some things in my life that I feel are sacred and so I don't write about them. I don't want to put them out there, lest they be trampled or just not understood in the way that I want. I worry that I won't do it justice. My dad's awful heart surgery a few years ago was one of those things. My American Girl doll is also one of those things. I wanted to keep it to myself--within my immediate family, who gets it, who gets how special it was. But, I have decided I am going to try.

I have written about how I wanted a Samantha doll since I was 7 or 8 years old. I would pour over the catalogs and read about all of the extra things you could get to go with your doll. I had all of the dolls, their stories, and their accessories memorized. When I had Rori, I hoped that someday she would want an American Girl doll and maybe I would get her a Samantha one. But then...they discontinued Samantha!!! I assumed that was it for me and my Samantha dream. A year ago, I got wind that she was coming back!! I was nerdily excited! I came home and told everyone--strangely, nobody's excitement level matched mine. She finally arrived in stores this October. I really wanted to get one, but Rori had enough American Girl dolls, so I knew it would be silly to get her one just because I had wanted Samantha.

On Christmas, I had one gift from my parents. I opened it and it was a doll outfit from the Target version of American Girl. My mom played it off as though she accidentally wrapped Rori's present with my name. She had my dad run out to the car to get my gift. I had a feeling...when my dad came in carrying a bag with a long wrapped box in it, I started to cry. Then, my mom, through tears of her own, said "I am sorry it's so late" and then the ugly cry started (not hers, mine). My heart was so full, I thought it would burst as I tore through the paper and saw my very own Samantha doll. My mom is not a frivolous person, she doesn't go throwing money around willy nilly, so I know how much it meant for her to be able to give me my doll, and it meant the world to me.

Unbeknownst to me, my mom had bought the doll back in October, but didn't know what she was going to do with it. She didn't know if it would be appropriate to give to me, or if I would think it was silly since I am slightly out of the American Girl target demographic. She thought about giving her to Rori, but it wouldn't have the same meaning. Then she read my blog post about my dad and I going to American Girl, and she knew she should give her to me. And this was the second greatest gift I have ever received (you know, behind Jesus ;) ).

My dad

I try not to brag about what I have, but please indulge me this one time. I have the greatest dad on earth. Growing up, we didn't have a lot of money--we weren't wanting for anything, but we didn't have a lot of indulgences. I didn't have "Guess" jeans, Cable tv, and I never got an American Girl Doll. When I was little, there were only three choices--Samantha, Kirsten, and Molly. I wanted Samantha. I never complained about not getting one, I understood they were very expensive. I joke now, that I was scarred by it, but I really wasn't. It was ok. You know why not having those things was ok? Because of my parents. My mom is awesome too, but I'll write about her later (poor moms, we always get shafted--do our work in the shadows).

My dad is awesome. I have many incredible memories of him, but something that I can really say, is that his love and time spent with me stayed a constant over time. Even though he worked full time, I think I can count on one hand how many of my tennis matches he missed during my four years of high school. He was always there, cheering me on, coaching me, encouraging me.

In college, my dad traded territories with another co-worker so that he could have Grand Rapids. He would come and visit me. He would take me to dinner, we'd go grocery shopping, turn in our aluminum cans (you get 10 cents a can in GR--paid for my books in college!), and then we'd go hang out at his hotel room and I got to watch Nick at Nite--we had very few channels on our college tvs, so this was a luxury. My roommates would often comment on how lucky I was to have a dad like that. But, it's all I had ever known.

Today, my dad was going to drive me to the American Girl store in Chicago so that I could pick up some things that my mom, sister, and I were going to get our girls for Christmas. He was going to take a day off of work just to drive Brendan and me to the city, and while I shopped at American Girl, he was going to entertain Brendan at the Lego store. We ended up not needing to go (the lady on the phone at AG was so helpful that I was able to just order what we needed), but honestly, I am a little bummed. I joked that I was going to pretend I was 8 and my dad was taking me to American Girl since we couldn't do that when I was 8 (and actually I'm not certain the store was in Chicago back then--good Lord, I'm getting old).

He chose the theme from the Princess Bride for our dance

It wasn't until I was an adult that I've really learned that not all dads are like mine. I know why it's so easy for me to love and trust my Heavenly Father. It's because He has given me such a wonderful earthly father. And for that I am so blessed--more than if I had a hundred Samantha dolls.

And I became a hot mess

Tour of my living room

This year I have grown up, in many ways. I am not going to go into the deep and meaningful ways right now--I'll save that for another time :) When Bill and I got married, we were blessed with a lot of hand me downs. We were really young, finances were tight, so these gifts were much appreciated. However, as time went on, I learned that my taste was different and I kind of hated the colors of my living room. It was pure laziness and obnoxious frugality that had prevented me from changing it over the years. This spring, I painted over our forest green walls with a gorgeous grey color.

This is the best picture I could find. Note the lamps--egad! and the color of the chair and the coffee table wasn't my style either.

We weren't sure what to do with the mauve/rose colored chairs. They are really good quality chairs, so we got them re-upholstered in a neutral taupe color. Then I got to pick my accent colors. I am obsessed with aqua! Bill and his dad built me a bench for our entry way that opens up and has 5 cubbies for the kids' backpacks and I painted it a happy shade of aqua. 

I don't know why I waited so long to be a grown up, but I am so glad I did. I love to sit in the living room and drink my coffee in the quiet of the morning. 

I'm not done with the wreath--I didn't have enough berries, but shocker, Brendan isn't up for going to JoAnn's until after he has lunch.

I love my woodland animals--Bill made fun of me for bringing the reindeer home, the next day he came home w/ the polar bear and fox

Love the picture from my mom of the kids acting out the nativity scene. 

So there you have it! I just have to get new curtains for the dining room, re-cover the dining room chairs and then I'll post pictures of it. I did get the most lovely light fixture that I'm excited to post!

Fear and Grace

My whole life I have struggled with fear. As a child, and honestly through most of my adulthood, I have been afraid of not fitting in, of being made fun of, of people not liking me. I care what people think.

Ever since losing our baby, Faith, my fear has turned into a sometimes crippling anxiety. I know that things don't always turn out the way we want. I know bad things happen in an instant. I know that life is incredibly fragile. Worst of all, I know that I have no control over any of it. Recently, I feel as if this burden of anxiety has lessened. The weight on my shoulders has been lifted.

I'm going to be honest. I think there are a couple of things that have led to my current state of being slightly less neurotic. I saw the doctor a month or so ago. He gave me a prescription to help my anxiety. I initially felt funny about taking it--but the fact that the anxiety was causing me to be "stress paralyzed" (please watch Moms' Night Out--you will loooove it) on a regular basis, I decided to give it a shot.

The other, and more powerful contributor to my ability to make it through the day without wanting to curl up in a ball in the corner and rock, is the gift of time. Time with Him. Jesus, The Lover of my soul. Brendan is in the Early Childhood program and they built a new building over the summer. Due to this new building, Brendan gets on the bus at 7:00 am. This was BEYOND traumatic for me. But, as always, God knew what he was doing, even if I was kicking and screaming. Now, every morning I put Brendan on the bus, and then while the other two kids are still sleeping, I have my quiet time and read my Bible. I sit in the living room, where for now the sun pours in (winter is a-comin') and start my day seeking Him. I haven't had this kind of quality time in so long, I didn't realize how much my soul was craving it. I am filled with peace, and it spills over into the rest of my day. I am much more pleasant to Rori and Liam when they get up in the morning (most days--I'm not perfect, and neither are they ;)  ). I am less stressed about things I have no control over. And honestly, I believe I no longer have a heart of fear. I am becoming comfortable in my own skin (granted I wish there was a little less of it ;) ).

I know that I am not cured of my anxiety, it is probably going to be the thorn in my side that rears its ugly head now and then, but I am thankful for this respite, no matter how long it lasts.

Matthew 11:28-30 "Come to Me all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."

The Great Time Bandit

I hate change. I am pretty sure that anyone who knows me is not surprised by this statement. I feel like Anne of Green Gables when she asks, "Why does everyone have to grow up, marry, and change?" The other day I was going through my old Facebook pages, from when Brendan was born. It felt like a lifetime ago. I saw messages from our old small group--bringing us meals and loving on us, I saw my nephew Noah calling Liam "Baby Bill", I saw Jenna and I experiencing babies together, I saw posts about blow out diapers, kids needing naps, me needing naps, and so many other things that are no longer a part of my daily routine.

So many things have changed since 2009. None of the people who made up our old small group still attend our church. It was a hard adjustment, but we have developed other friendships at church. However, the time with that group is one that I look back on fondly. I don't know if I could've survived the baby stage without those friends--we walked through those trenches together.

I no longer have any kids in diapers! This is not necessarily something I miss, but I miss many of the other things that went with that stage--the snuggles, the tiny fingers and toes, the firsts, the baby laughs, I could go on and on, but Bill would prefer I didn't get my uterus all worked up...

One of my greatest blessings--my friend Leslie, just moved. She moved about 8 minutes away, but she was 2 minutes away, so it causes some change as far as just dropping by. I hate change. People are moving, growing, changing, having big life events.

And now, my friends, the world is continuing to spin. My babies are going back to school tomorrow. My sweet Rori Rose is starting 4th grade. She's in the upper grades of her school. Her body is changing--her face is older, I want it to stop. My Liam James is starting 2nd grade. He is going in with much more confidence than he did first grade. He is changing too--he's all arms and legs and feet. Big feet. And then there's Brendan Rhys. He's starting a new school. He will be riding the bus to school every day because with the other two, I can't take him to school. I hate change.

My life is full. God has blessed us with wonderful friends and family. He has given me grace and a little bit of maturity to deal with all of the change. I miss my babies, but I am immensely proud of the people they are becoming. I just wish it didn't happen so fast. So I will beg the time bandit one more time, please slow down.

Happy 7th Birthday Liam James!

My sweet boy turns 7 today! My firstborn son, the first boy to really capture my heart (Papa was a man when I met him ;) ). It has been quite a year! You started first grade, and God gave you the best teacher for your personality, Miss Stanley. She helped make the transition to all day school much easier. You love to be home and would rather have stayed in half day school :)

You have turned into an excellent reader--you don't enjoy the writing log portion of the reading, but as long as we can find Star Wars or Ninjago books, you are a happy camper. You have also turned into quite the photographer. 80% of the photos of myself that I post on facebook, were taken by you! Somehow, you make me look skinny, pretty, and young. You should start charging for that :)

You started playing soccer, with Papa as your coach. I can't describe how excited I was, watching your first game, thinking of how much you had grown up. It was bittersweet.

You did a mud run this year and I couldn't believe what a difference a year made. Last year, you were tired from running. This year, you took off and left everyone in the dust. I had to sprint to keep up with you and take pictures!

This is when I realized I was going to have to work to keep up with you!

Most of all, I have watched you grow in so many of the qualities that are natural for you. You are a sensitive boy who cares about others. I am often amazed at your generosity--it comes naturally for you. When I say that I would like something--a bite of your cookie, or to play with one of your favorite toys, you are always willing to share. You are a good friend and you make wise choices about who to hang out with. You stand up for what is right. You saw a boy being punched on the playground and you told him to stop, even though it ended up with you being punched. I am so proud of you that my heart feels like it will burst. I wish time would stand still, but fortunately you have promised me that you will live with me forever, I am going to hold you to that!