A Year in the Life

Don't worry, this isn't an elaborate review of the new Gilmore Girls Netflix series. Although, I could probably write an exquisite post about that very topic.  Instead I want to intrigue you on my very own 2016.  Spoiler alert - there was a "Mom I'm pregnant" moment somewhere in there - just not at the ending. Ha!

I never knew a year could be quite as melodramatic as the previous 350 days.

A year with bewildered excitement and soul crushing tears.
A year where "what just happened?" and "will anything ever happen?" were whispered in the same breath.
December 31, 2015 I stood in the warmth of my little country kitchen pouring a glass of wine, "I'm hoping this is my last cup of wine for a while." My heart craved it, my soul longed for this - I wanted to be a momma so bad. The previous year there were moments of gut wrenching sobs as woman after woman on facebook posted their overjoyous pregnancy announcements. No matter how thrilled I was for them - each one was still a stab to my heart. My husband would find me in the bottom of the shower, sobbing, letting the water wash those pain stricken tears away. He'd pick me up, wrap me in a towel, and just resinate truth and love to me, "Our time will come."

We had only been in the adoption process since May, and had recently stopped the infant adoption to turn to the possibility of fostering-to-adopt. Yet my heart was sore, my heart craved what I did not have, and my hope was dwindling.

Then January came and on my birthday I woke up and with extreme anticipation as I took the test.
The stupid stick read positive and my brain whispered, (I kid you not), "It was the asparagus you ate last night." COME ON PEOPLE! That might the funniest reaction to a pregnancy test ever. So anyway, I took another one that afternoon just to be on the safe side and sure enough! Two positives.


Or was supposed to be... Right?  Let me tell you, I totally let Satan destroy that thrill.
*Being 100% honest here. Some of you might not understand the following sentences, and that's okay. This is my heart and I'm at no way remorseful for the truth.*
By the next morning I was so angry. How did I get pregnant when all I've ever wanted to do was adopt? How did this happen to me when there are women out there who want this more than I do? I want to adopt, I know that Adam and I were meant to adopt, so why us?

Yes! Those were my thoughts, and they were my thoughts for months - 7 months to be exact.  I was in a constant battle for the next 7 months with a sense of betraying a child who wasn't even mine. Then 7 months later it was confirmed that this child - who only spent 14 days in our home, was to stay with other members of his family. A very wise decision that would allow him to grow up with flesh and blood family. A safe family. It might not be my family, but it is his - and my job the rest of our life is to pray for him (and months after this realization - I am perfectly okay with that).

Within those 7 months:
- I gained an absurd amount of weight, battled tons of self-image issues (yes, even pregnant).
- I resigned from my teaching/coaching job in June.
- I did a lot of soul searching, God searching, and Jesus talking (sometimes yelling).

Throughout all of this the Holy Spirit continued to remind me that my God-given word for this year was "Joy". I wanted to laugh and list out everything that screamed opposite in my current state - antonyms flooded my daily existence.


They swarmed - unrelenting. Yet my heart continued to soften in the midst of a season it should have hardened. The breaks weren't mended, but became crevasses in which seeds were planted. Seeds watered by tears that turned into this abounding Joy that radiates from the depths of my soul that I cannot even begin the describe.

This Joy took time, it took beatings.  Something in this world wanted to crush the very thought of finding Joy in the midst of it all.
Then August came... month 8.
Month 8 rolled around after month 7 left me depressed, mortified, and broken in so many ways.
Month 8 I realized the reality of my pregnancy.
Month 8 I began to accept that my timing and God's timing are not the same.
Month 8 a very real presence of peace began to creep in, slowly filling in those cracks that exclaimed destruction.

Month 9 turned into excitement.

Month 9 brought a little girl that told me I could love a child again no matter the outcome.
Month 9 shined a laughing light on the truth that nothing which has happened this year turned out the way I thought it would, no plan Adam or I had made ended in the result we had intended.

Month 10. A new mom. A new family. A new life.

Month 11. A new home. A new town. A new adventure. A new job. A new income.

Month 12... 

Here we are. Month 12.
A year in the life. A year in the life of a woman who thought she knew how her life would turn out, but she didn't. A year in the life of me, a planner, and all my outlines were tossed into the fire.
A year in the life of a woman turned back into a child who needed to sit at her heavenly Father's feet, and realize that she was not in charge, and that things turn out much better when He is. A year in the life of me - learning to let go - to be okay with falling, to let myself be picked up, feet washed, forehead kissed, and wrapped in love. A year in the life of someone learning to live, feel, break, and allow those breaks tell a story that grow something new, something truly alive, yes. A year in the life of learning the true, heavenly meaning of Joy.