Turning 30

My husband turned 30 on January 10th. He struggled inwardly...something about that number was a drastic change for him. I'd say "Oh honey, 30 isn't even close to old yet. Not even a little bit. Embrace your youth for it still remains!"

But you know what? Here I am, sitting home alone, and it dawns on me that I will be turning 28 this year. I start to feel uneasy. First of all, it's quiet around here tonight, and when it's quiet here....well of course any particular strangeness can set in. But for me, it suddenly felt scary to be standing this close to 30.

I asked myself, Lisa, what could be your reason behind the fear? I mean, certainly you have many friends in their 30s, and some even run marathons, some continue to grow their families and just ooz with energy. Then I remembered that I had to question the state of my joints and muscles the other day at the thought of jumping on a trampoline and I thought, how is it I'm trying to even find solace in my friends who run marathons?! I'm questioning my age to even jump on a trampoline!

So I needed to back up, this whole marathon was just me getting distracted (thanks to my friends who are just laughing at my inability to run). What's so hard about leaving our twenties? Could it be...and then I had an idea. I know what it is. Something about turning 30 means you have this pressure of really being responsible and having your priorities completely lined up. Laughter.
This reminds me that I burn meals all the time, and that by the time I reach 30 that should not happen anymore. Like you're supposed to spend your 20s learning how to not burn food, and if that's true then I have two years to get it right. Two more years, then the bottom of the pot of chili should not be black. I cannot pretend that my meal is a 'smoky flavored meal' while trying to conceal the burned chicken. I cannot have a stack of darkened tortillas while I convince myself "this time I will NOT forget to flip this one and it will be beautifully cooked on both sides." I'm 30 now! I learned in my 20s how to cook meals! Right? Last week was the last pot of burnt chili?

Responsibility. 40 is the age we begin to truly feel old, but 30 is the responsibility pressure. I should add that I turned on the computer to meal plan for groceries tomorrow (oh, food again, I'm not planning chili) and I was completely sidetracked by my thoughts on turning 30. Responsibility at it's finest.

"Hello? You want to see my daddy?"

Today I was observing our Judson, who was diving into the world of make-believe, a not too common thing for him just yet. Judson is very much into sports, running, taking things apart (maybe that's a nice way of saying breaking) and will one day surely bring forth some unique gifts for the Lord from all these rough and tough things. "I beak this" he says often, which means, "I broke this." Oh Lord, use the breaking skills for your glory one day. Somehow!

But today he quietly sat our side table, picked up his pretend phone as his little mind heard an imaginary phone call for his father:

"Hello? Yes? You want to see my daddy? Mhm. Yes. MY daddy. Ya. Mhm. yeah, yep. Ok, bye."

My heart paused for a moment. Here's a boy who has known Ernie for less than two years, and he has proudly claimed him his forever daddy. God was gracious even as he was passed around a bit between family and homes. God was gracious during a time of frustration and anger in his soul that was so young. I have tried to imagine what life must have been for him between birth and nearly 2, and I have cried.

Yet God brought Ernie Blanco into Judson's life, a man whom God would use to transform what it means to be "daddy" and to give him direction in the good days and hard, trial-filled days. Ernie would be the daddy to stand at the door to welcome Judson back from somewhat painful and confusing parent visits, and the daddy who would make him his own forever and would point him to how our Heavenly Father makes us his own forever, through Jesus.

We are so grateful Judson is our son. I'm so grateful Ernie is his daddy.

Never Lukewarm Again

We have all been there. We think we have found the perfect time to make the coffee and pour a cup and drink the whole thing till the last warm drop. We can picture it can't we? We sit in our favorite chair after it's all brewed and we even have time to read a book or something while we sip away. But reality tells us time and time again that a mother will get a couple sips into her coffee and after a few unexpected events with the littles, it's a nice creamy, lukewarm drink.

It's a must though, this coffee. In order for everyone to remain safe, caffeine needs to be flowing through my veins. But I can't swallow lukewarm coffee, I just can't. I can't even try plugging my nose and knocking it back.
That's just stupid. And I gag every time.

So I needed a better plan. I'm all about revising plans around here. If something is needed in order to function then I need to make it work. But what do you do about coffee? How do you just skip the whole brewing part and getting to the immediately getting it into your system part?

Then it came to me like a dream. Like there was a soft light that burst into the room and said "remember your Ikea thermos."

Oh yeah. I bought a thermos like forever ago. 6 dollars. DING DING.

Everyone, I now brew my coffee before bed. And it never goes cold. What? Yes. I brew my coffee, pour it into my thermos (again, Ikea, 6 dollars, we can all do this), tighten that lid, and no heat is lost from that crucial first cup I need to drink before kids wake up.

You too could never have a lukewarm cup of coffee ever again. Because you know what? If a child runs to me demanding justice from their sibling, I can pour that coffee back into the thermos (I mean it's almost like pausing time?), and click it back open at a more convenient time. Once all the boo boos are kissed, and peace is made between siblings...for a moment anyway.

I just wanted to share. I think this could save lives.

She's going to drink coffee with me someday

Morning

Kix and the Bible. A good start!

Adoption Day

Yesterday was a day we will never ever forget. We adopted our precious children and named them Judson and Talitha Blanco. The last year in a half has been a tremendous test of our faith and full of new ways to trust The Lord with each day. I have seen my weakness, I have had thousands of tears. I have also had to run to Jesus many days and I get to experience his strength and the joy that comes from depending on him. 

Judson is an active, athletic, hilarious little boy. And God has grown him in so many ways to calm his little heart, to trust us as mommy and daddy, and really love his family. He's starting to help me with his siblings, bless his heart, he's only 3 and he's wanting to be the man of the house when daddy's at work. He will one day be incredibly gifted at baseball, basketball and drums. Seriously. He also loves our parents, his forever grandparents. And he has two best buddies, Truett and Nathan. 

Talitha is spunky, hilarious, loud and stunningly beautiful. She keeps us active, and we chase her all day. She's interested in all things breakable, all things with a plug-in and her current favorite is the computer keyboard which also serves as her drum. She looks up to Judson and really loves him. She is in love with daddy, he means the world to her, I'm so grateful for Ernie as her daddy. He is such a gift of a godly daddy in her life. We think she will be a great dancer, she's got some rhythm starting.

So we are now forever a family of 6. God has met us in our times of need and brought us this day of adoption in his amazing kindness and mercy. We love you Judson and Talitha!

                                    

Our Days

These days are warm and busy. We are looking forward to snuggly clothes and mommy lighting too many pumpkin candles while baking too many pumpkin treats. Summer is closing. It has been fun with many learning experiences, transitions and enjoying a new baby.

Some of us are learning to feed our babies.

Some of us like getting into mischief  with good buddies.

Everyone is growing like a weed, causing mommy a lot of tears.

She spots ehpains! (airplanes)

She's in love with daddy (me too).

Some still think Rufus is the best playmate.

ALL are learning to close the door!

His has a love for Spiderman. "mightaman"

A pretty girl came with us on daddy's work trip to Portland.

We're enjoying lots of rain.

And adding to our rolls.

Of to dinner prep! Hope to be back soon.

A Mini Photo shoot

Yesterday while my 2 year olds slept I did a little photo shoot of this pretty girl to celebrate her 3 months of life. She's been a precious part of our family, I'm so grateful for her.

We hope to soon show our sweet collection of pictures of our two other beautiful kiddos!

I couldn't get Ernie grumpy pants to give me too many smiles yesterday, but he was still super cute, him and his cars right now...he's always got one in each hand. He's getting so big my heart just aches.

Adley Louise Blanco

Maybe you are curious about whether or not I have just thrown my hands up and said "No more blogging!" Well, yes I have had moments where I thought so. Our days (and nights) are full. But the plan is to continue to write as I am able; when laundry is folded, dinner is already prepped and all four kids are sleeping. Sometimes, by God's great mercy, those can happen at the same time, sometimes.

Today I wanted to introduce you to the newest Blanco. Oops, she's already almost 3 months, not quite the newborn anymore, but so precious isn't she? Meet Adley Louise Blanco. Louise comes from my Grandma. I am so proud to use that name.

I'm going to be honest, when I was laying on that metal slab and they lifted her up and I saw a head full (FULL) of black hair I thought, "Are you my baby? Did they swap babies before they pulled her above that curtain?" But, turns out she really did come from my womb and I can't stop running my fingers through her hair. 

Her birth was another experience to trust God with how he's been faithful to us before. She was lifted above that curtain and whisked away right after I said my first hello as her mommy. I cried, and cried, no one could tell me details as to why she wasn't breathing well but that was her main issue, so off to the NICU she went. 

I have never experienced emotional, painful flashbacks before; but there I was, instantly back to Haddon's birth as he was wheeled off quickly for help to survive. I pictured a number of things happening as I placed myself back in our grief three years ago, and the Lord calmed me with his Spirit in that operating room. I could trust him, no matter what happened to my sweet girl, I could trust him because he has shown us kindness and mercy in this before.

Adley needed help for two days and we visited her in the NICU while I recovered. How similar things felt to Haddon, but her needs were very different. It was not a roller coaster of good news and sad news. And the Lord gave me joy as I visited her, which is an immense amount of grace. We are grateful to God for all his help in our time of need at that hospital.

We also had a moment where all four children where in my room at the same time. The three older ones wanted to meet sister, so we gave it a try. You would laugh at us, guys. It was all about meeting sister, but once they entered the room it was all about the neat things in the hospital room, and it was just hilarious chaos. Ah, it was my first taste of my days to come at home.

Rememberance: Where there's no straining for my eyes to see

I am sitting in the quiet of my living room as little ones sleep. This pregnancy has led me to eating lunch around 10:15 rather than noon. So as I unashamedly finish off a plate of spaghetti by mid morning, I sit here thinking about this new little one that has continued to grow inside me.

The gift of children has been quite the journey for us. For two and a half years God has lifted my eyes to trust him as he tells me that his 'word is upright and all his work is done in faithfulness' Psalm 33:4, a life giving verse for me in the midst of a trial that wanted to suck the life out of me.

As we first kissed our firstborn and buried him into the ground in the same week, the Lord stood guard over my heart from the hungry sins of bitterness, anger, and hopelessness who were always tempting me in my hours of sorrow. But The Lord stood in my sorrow, loudly declaring for me that if he did not spare his own son for my sin how could he also not provide me all things?
Since then, every pregnancy has been a step of faith onto a path to which the final destination is not visible. We cannot strain our eyes and squint hard enough to make sure we see a baby down the road that will survive after birth. What we can see is the Lord's faithfulness to us before, where there's no straining or squinting for our eyes to see. God has shown Ernie and I the power of remembering what He has done.

So I lay here, feeling the kicks of a little girl squirming inside me and I pray that she continues to kick and move and jump for 15 more weeks. I want her to live. I want to watch her grow and watch our son care for his younger sister. I do not want to place her in the ground. But my hope is not in a living child. My hope is that God emptied his anger and wrath on his son. He showed his son no mercy so that he could freely give mercy to me. In light of this hope, I can walk in faith with bearing or not bearing children, raising them or burying them.

Hymns: A Help To This Mother's Sorrow

The most glorious thing I enjoy on this earth is singing with others who share the same hope as I do in Jesus. I enjoy it most as we sing hymns, when they are sung from the soul, not just a hymnal or the screen. This particular thing Christians do together is the closest thing to heaven itself. It's like we can look around as we sing together and ask, don't you long for "oh that day when freed from sinning?" it's the one thing that currently keeps us from experiencing a pure joy of worship, we still sin. But if you know Jesus, you get a taste of that joy that will one day be pure.

Then came the day when our son, Haddon, died as he laid in our lap. Worship, and particularly hymns, took on a new meaning in my life. Suddenly singing about 'when sorrows like sea billows roll' was a daily reality. I have felt sorrow to such a degree that I thought I would be overtaken and drown. I have felt and cried to the Lord 'when darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.' But I also I learned that I like to sing a hymn in my grief because they are written in such a way that sums up our solid hope. Do you notice a pattern in most hymns?

1. We sin, and we are helpless to stand before God by ourselves

2. Jesus made that way to stand before God

3. Jesus was raised from the dead 

4. Praise God we will stand before him together for all of eternity free from sin 

I have a different joy now as I sing, because now its mixed with deep longing. I feel it rise in me as I sing: 

"when with the ransomed in Glory, 

his face I at last shall see. 

It will be my joy through the ages

To sing of his love for me."

To finally see his face, the one who took my son, yet showed me more about the worth of His son through unbelievable sorrow, I can't even sing with my voice. Tears overcome me when I sing of heaven. So I silently mouth a lot of songs in my home , my church and my car, but I silently mouth the words with my whole heart and soul.

(I realize no hymn or any song is compared to the comforts found from the Word of God. And, maybe as you look back on previous posts, God has certainly shown me that his word alone is what brings real, living hope when he allows sadness and sorrow to come.)