Monday, August 14, 2017

If Today You Hurt

If today you are wondering how you will make it...

If today you've built your walls so high and so thick that you are certain no one will find you...

If today your body aches...

If today you are empty...

If today you are lost...

If today you feel alone...


From the moment of your conception God was with you and even now has never left you. 

God sees you, all of you, and loves you the same now as he always has.

God can fill you like no worldly substance or other human being can. 

God is with you. God is always with you. 



If today you hurt just a little, or you hurt a whole lot, God can take it and give you peace. You only need to ask. 

If today is the first time you've prayed...EVER... God is so happy to hear from you. He does not judge you. You are as precious to Him as the person who has prayed everyday. You are no different. 

So, if today you feel unimportant, unworthy, or unnoticed I want you to remember one giant truth:


Sunday, August 6, 2017

I'm A Mess

             Tomorrow morning at 8:00am I drop my one and half year-old son off at daycare and we begin another ten months of only seeing one another for a couple, precious hours a day. After a full two months together of wild adventures exploring the backyard, pointed out planes, helicopters and birds flying overhead, vrooming trucks in the sand on the beach, and dancing in the living room together to our favorite songs on YouTube, I am without a doubt crushed and dreading 8:00am tomorrow morning in a way I’ve never experienced before.

            When I mention this sadness that has come over me, people, with the best intentions in mind, seem to say the same thing: “Oh, I'm sorry. Just remember, he won’t remember this anyway.” OK, so I know at my core this is meant to be kind, helpful advice, but to me it feels like a punch in the gut. These past two months have been the best, most fun days I’ve had in my entire life, and to be told that they are essentially just for my sake feels off. It feels false.

Here’s what I know:

             I have a mother and father who instilled a sense of adventure in my brother and I from the very beginning. I know this not because I remember all of my early childhood years, but because of who I became as an adult. My parents cultivated imagination in us and gave us the freedom to be children. I was free enough to sing loudly while I walked down the street to my friend Leigh Anne's house and not once worry about what a neighbors thought. I was free enough to play with my Mom’s makeup and do things like cover my eyelids with her teal eyeshadow just before I met my Dad at the Dunnellon Country Club for lunch (side note, I must have been around seven or eight and I still remember how sweet the waitress was. She told me I looked pretty. What you say to people, even small people, always matters.), I was free enough to not remember a time when I wasn’t writing poetry for fun and reading it aloud for my family. Free enough to publically exclaim my love and devotion for Jesus Christ at nine years old with a fierce certainty. Free enough to swing from ropes into (let’s be honest) the alligator and water moccasin infested Rainbow River over and over again with no fear. I was free enough to climb broken down wooden forts in the woods and sit alone in silence just staring at trees. And around 14 years of age, I was free enough to claim theatre as a career path and ask my parents to drive me 45 minutes to a high school with a better theatre program. NEVER ONCE did they ask me if I should look into something else, something more steady, or more financially lucrative. Never once did they think twice about that drive. I was free to be me.
          I get it, my son is one, and the memories of the summer of 2017 are not going to stick in his head the same way they will in mine. But I HAVE TO BELIEVE that every single puddle he played in, every giggle-fest we had in the car, all the times he ran and jumped in my lap with a new book to read, and each time he hugged me long and hard after an especially long nap, I HAVE TO BELIEVE, even if it's not going to stick in his brain, it is sticking to his soul. I hope and pray that soul will sing loud, dance with no shame, build forts, write stories, lay in the grass, study the clouds, love people and most importantly get to know and love our graceful God. What I hope for my boy is to become a man who will not be afraid to look the giants of his life straight in the eye and say “Let's do this, Goliath.” 

            Listen, I’m not going to lie, I’m a mess. I’m crying in the shower and in my car. My heart is breaking with every second we get closer to the start of this school year and the weight feels too big for me to conquer alone, but I know I’m not alone. I know Who goes ahead of me. So I cry but I also hold on to Big Faith.
            So here’s to all the parents who are fighting this fight. Here’s to doing the best we can while we can, and here’s to a God that promises we never have to do anything alone. Here’s to courage. Here’s to faith.
Let's make it a great school year! 

Friday, July 28, 2017

Dear Infertility

Before you, I was weak. My muscles were small. My stamina was short. Before you, I was near sighted. Unaware and adrift, I couldn’t see the majestic forest, just my few routine trees. Before you, I was na├»ve, ignorant and happy. Before you I was simple.

You rode in with a crippling howl and collapsed my ideal world. You wrecked me, ripped me in two, and then in four. I began to see red and blue and grey. I understood evil and pain. I breathed hard, screamed loud, and banged my fists. I begged you to let me go, but you held on with a suffocating grip. I became different. I began to dwell in the dark. I believed it was over.

Lifeless and lonely I called upon The Shepherd. He lifted me, but I was limp. He whispered hope, but I cried doubt. Scared of the journey ahead, I tried to separate myself from The Shepherd, but he would not move. He adamantly refused to let you win. In Him I grew stronger each day. With His living words, I called you on your lies. With His enduring promises, I stopped hiding. Armed with The Shepherd’s Staff in my in small hands, I allowed the world to know my secrets, faults and fears. I exposed myself.  I exposed you. Something new grew in me. Again, I was different, but this time I became free. Free to see yellow and magenta and green. Free to see this big, complicated, beautiful, sad, surprising, wonderful world. Free to experience miracles that cannot be counted.

And although you tried to crack and break my soul, you were no match for The Shepherd. He fulfilled his promise and shattered your wall of lies with the awesome first cry of one baby boy.

After you, I am strong.

After you, I am can see.

After you, I am found.

After you, I am free.

The Shepherd's Daughter 

Monday, June 26, 2017

Emotional, Exhausted, Embarrassed and Honored

Sitting and sweating 36,000 feet in the air on a four hour flight from Denver to Florida yesterday, my 16 month old son was inconsolable. He simply could not understand why he had to sit on our laps for that long, after all, just a day ago, he was running up mountain trails and chasing tiny chipmunks. He wasn't hungry. He wasn't thirsty. He was super bored, and to top things off, this was his normal nap time, so he was also slap-happy tired. That's when a very sweet flight attendant came to our sides to ask if she can do anything. Does he want some cookies? Do his ears hurt? Sure, and maybe were my answers, but honestly I knew nothing short of a large grassy area to run around in was going to help. Then she said something that surprised me with tears of joy (which I'm sure she mistook for tears of frustration), she said "Well, you're not alone. Many have been in this situation before you, and many will after you."

In my emotional, exhausted, and embarrassed state I all-of-a-sudden felt HONORED.

Two years ago this month my husband and I announced we wanted to adopt a baby but we couldn't do it alone. What YOU did next was nothing short of a miracle. You did things like hold yoga classes and donate all the money to our fund, you used your time, talents and very expensive camera and computer equipment to shoot and edit a video we could share with the world, you bought t-shirts, you took selfies with he hashtag #TeamBabyQ to push traffic to our Go Fund Me page, you asked your church groups to gather around a couple they never met and shower them with baby gifts, cards and checks, you even used your inheritance to honor your mother by giving a substantial amount of money to our fund. You prayed. You cried when we cried. You rejoiced in every step we took that landed us closer to becoming parents. You asked the right questions. You listened. You hugged us. You were the hope we hung onto to. You reminded us often that this was real, and going to happen. You were such a beautiful picture of love, support and acceptance- you were Jesus.

So, it would happen that on a frustrating flight in the middle of the day at the end of a long week away that I would be overcome with gratitude when a sweet flight attendant said "Many have been in this situation before you, and many will after you."

Here's the thing- she had NO IDEA how long I had waited to be emotional, exhausted and embarrassed, and she had no idea how lucky I felt.

We were never meant to do life alone. We were always meant to be there for each other.

I just wanted to take a moment two years later to say THANK YOU. 

Thank you for helping make me a mommy, Jeremy a daddy and Zeke an adored and cherished son. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. May God bless you as He has blessed us. In love. In support. In acceptance. May you see His grace and beautiful plan in the most ordinary of moments and may you feel honored that He calls you His.

Quellhorst Family 
Sapphire Point, Colorado 2017 

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Our Shero

A woman I have never met, and possibly will never meet carried my son in her body for 37 weeks. I remembered the nurses saying the words “37 weeks” because he was just a little bit small at birth. In the couple months that followed, lots of friends and family would ask if he was carried to term, and I would repeat the words “37 weeks” over and over. It stayed with me, those weeks I didn’t know him, wasn’t protecting him. In truth, I didn’t even know he was alive yet in those weeks. In those weeks, he was only hers.

When you’re a new a brand new adoptive mom, you think about your child’s birthmom every day, or at least I did. I would wonder if she was back to work, what she was telling her friends, how she was healing, what she was really feeling. I wondered if she doubted her choice. I wondered if she missed him. I thought about her body and the changes it must be going through. I prayed about her heart. I wished I could cover her face in kisses for choosing life, and hug her hard for also choosing me.

I know a little about her story, and although it’s not my story to tell, I will tell you she was brave in the way she went about protecting our son. So brave I often daydream about her dressed in full armor, weapon drawn, ready to fight the big fight. The big, hard, emotional, impossible fight of true love. The one where you only win by dying. The kind of fight you fight with the ultimate sacrifice in mind. I have no idea what she looks like, never saw a picture, my social worker told me what I already knew: she was so beautiful. I knew this because beauty radiates from people who are in love, and there’s only one way you can do the impossible- love.  37 weeks of true, deep, unconditional love.

You see, a woman I’ve never met carried my son for 37 weeks. And when he’s curious or confused about why she let him go, I will tell him it was out of bravery and love. I will tell him she is our hero. Better yet, our SHERO. I will paint the best possible picture of her I can and I will pray his heart will be OK, but if it isn’t, I will carry him through it. I will carry him on my hip, while he’s sleeping, on the good days, in the difficult times, when we celebrate, when he’s two, and three, and thirty-three. I will carry him for the rest of his life,  no matter how big he gets, this is not just a promise I have made to him, this is a promise I have made to her, and I am determined to make her proud.

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Great, Big, Supernatural Love

Recently I've caught myself doing something I never thought I'd do. I did it in the checkout lane today at Homegoods and then later in the park near our house- I stare at people. Well, I stare at families with young children to be more clear. I stare at the way they interact with one another. I study their faces for clues on whether they're pleased or frustrated or tired. I watch them go about mundane tasks like grocery shopping or watch as they laugh and play together at the park. I'm fascinated with it all- the good, the bad, and the exhausted.

OK I admit, this might be a little weird, but here's the thing- since I became a mom it's like I have this  insatiable knowledge for all things parenthood. It turns out it's true what they say, I've never known love like the love I have for my son and because of that, I will never look at love the same way again, or my parents for that matter. I've realized the kind of selfless marathon commitment it takes to raise a human is nothing short of a phenomenon, and I'm fascinated in what keeps moms and dads rolling along this crazy ride and the only thing I've come up with is LOVE. Great, big, supernatural LOVE.

When I was in my early twenties I was dating a guy my parents did not approve say the least. I mean this guy broke my heart again and again and again. Even so, as you do when you're in your twenties, I continued to let him break my heart until one late night a couple of years later it was enough, and with a very harsh (and a little scary) slam of a door in my face, that relationship was over. I did not go home to my lonely, little apartment. I did not go to a girlfriend's house to eat ice cream and vent. I drove straight to my mom and dad's house at 2:00am and knocked on their door. I had no idea what they would say, I just knew I needed them. I can vividly remember them both opening the door, both taking me into the living room, and both sitting down on the couch so I could lay in their laps and cry and cry. I also remember them both crying with me, the pain of their daughter in pain was too much for them not to. Never once did they say "I told you so." Never once did they pry. They just loved me and loved me until I was better. I'll never forget that. I'll never forget my father standing in the doorway of the room I was staying in and telling me "I've gone through what you're feeling and it's unlike any other pain, however, I wouldn't change a thing from my own horrible heartbreak in my youth because it means I can stand here and tell you YOU ARE GOING TO BE OK. If I made it through, you will make it through, too." To me, that was so profound- he wouldn't change a thing about his own painful heartbreak in his past, because he now knew it would benefit me. Big love.

I've been a Christ follower for 27 years and I've always loved the holiday season, but, because I now know what this bond, this attachment, this THING called parenthood feels like, I will never look at Christmas or Easter the same way again, either. It's now even harder to wrap my brain and heart around a God who loves us so much He sent His only son to be brutally beaten and killed so that we may have eternal life IF we want it. I don't know how God did it, I don't know how he let his baby boy go, but I do know if there was another way to save us, He would've taken it. It's with that knowledge I believe with every ounce of me He did it out of that unfailing parental love, and these days I have a newfound awe of His great sacrifice.

And yes, parenthood is HARD. I think that's another reason I stare at you young moms and dads in my town, I'm wondering if you're doing OK today. There are sleepless nights, not a lot of personal time or space, plans that don't go as planned, and lots of mess. The good news is- great, big, supernatural love doesn't feel like obligation, as least not to me. What it feels like to me is AN HONOR. I'm honored to share in all things parenthood: the good, the bad and the exhausted. And I'm honored to share it with all the parents out there, young and old. But most of all, I'm honored to be a "Whosoever," and I thank God every day not only for the gift of His son, but also for the gift of mine.

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

All Along He Had Me

Today is special in a way. Today is a day that I get to sit back and see how God was always in control, how He always had my best interest at heart, and how He always had me firmly placed in His hands.

One year ago today I was almost certain God had finally answered our prayers and was blessing us with a baby- a baby girl. This "opportunity" wasn't though my agency, it was through an old high school friend. A young woman she knew in her home town (not far from where I live) was about to deliver any day. This young woman was not in a place where you can raise a child. She would be forced by the law to give the child up upon delivery, and, from what I understood, was happy to do so. In just days after the first contact with a family member, we received another call- the baby girl had been born. My husband and I were nervous but very excited. While we began talking about baby girl names and joking about all the pink that was coming our way, our adoption agency was busy trying to make contact with the family and processes the legal transactions quickly and painless...

and then...


Not a single word from the family for days, maybe a week, its hard now to remember how long, I just remember it felt like an eternity. I held onto hope praying in the meantime that God would keep that baby girl safe, wherever she was.

That brings me to today. Tonight the school I work for will have a celebration called Lessons and Carols. Its an annual Christmas concert for the students, their families, and the faculty. It was on this night one year ago, right after I came home from the concert, that I would received the news- the young woman's mother, the baby girl's grandmother, had decided to raise the child. My husband was out of town for work, so I sank, alone into a very sad place. I cried hard for hours until I finally feel asleep. I called into work the next day. I did not want to get out of bed. I did not understand. I DID NOT UNDERSTAND. I was so lost. I felt so forgotten by God.

Little did I know. Little did I see. He had me. All along He had me. At this time our baby boy, OUR BEAUTIFUL BABY BOY was just two months away from coming into this world. At this time his birthmother began the process of looking for a family for her unborn child. At this time she was caring for him in a way I would never be able, so that I could return the grace and with so much gratitude care for him in a way she couldn't. At this time LOVE was making us all a family.

At this time I was already a mother. 

So today I celebrate God's faithfulness. He promises to never leave us, He promises to give us the desires of our hearts, and He promises if His answer is no, that HE IS ENOUGH until we understand why. I know this to be true. It's true for me, and it's true for you. Praise Jesus.

Sunday, August 28, 2016

NOW I Get It

It's 4 o'clock on a Sunday afternoon and my 6 month old son Ezekiel is peacefully napping.

I have a son.

He's 6 months old.

How did I get here?

Today in church our pastor Tim reminded us that God is very clear about His desire to supply all of our needs. Tim made sure we understood that needs are different than wants. God understands what we need is more important than what we want. He gets us better than we get ourselves.

This got me thinking... Did I need Ezekiel as much as I wanted him?

I remember when my husband and I first decided it was time to throw the birth control away. I remember how badly I wanted to get pregnant that first month, and the next, and the next. I remember how confused and angry I was every time I saw a single pink line. Then months turned into years and confusion and anger turned into a nasty broken heart and bitterness. I numbed the pain with work and wine until one day I decided I would take my infertility into my own hands and my husband and I began treatment. I say it this way, "my own hands," not because I don't believe in fertility treatment, but because I can admit now that I wasn't talking to God about fertility treatments with an open heart and open ears, I was essentially telling God I needed Him to make this work. I didn't want to hear from Him about what He wanted for my life. I didn't leave space to listen, either. I just dove in, month after month, treatment after treatment.

What happened with MY plan? It turned into EIGHT, count them- EIGHT failed treatments over the course of a year and more frustration and anger than I have ever felt before. It turned into a dead road.

I was at the end of my rope and I can only imagine God was frustrated with me as well. You see God never stopped talking to me, I just stopped listening. All along, each time I broke down in a doctor's office, each time I slammed my fist on my car dashboard and screamed with pain, each time I fell apart in church when the band sang a ballad- ALL THE TIME God was saying the same ten words to me. They were loud and clear and they were always the same:

"Hold on, I can't wait for you to meet them." 

God knew that in the year 2015 a young woman would become pregnant with a little boy. God knew her heart. He knew she could never bring herself to terminate that pregnancy even though she was young and alone and didn't have the means to raise a baby by herself. God also knew that even though she was young, she was strong and full of love. Strong enough to carry life inside her for almost ten months, and loving enough to choose a couple all the way across the country to raise up that life.

All our birthmom wrote on her paperwork under the type of family she desired for her child was: "A family with a mom and a dad."

Did I need Ezekiel as much as I wanted him? Well, it turns out it wasn't about me. Even though God was excited to bless my husband and I with a baby, He was also waiting for this one particular baby, this beautiful baby boy with big, bright brown eyes to be born. He was waiting to not only make us a mommy and daddy, but to give Zeke's birthmom peace and to give Zeke safety. God's plan was much bigger than my human brain could fathom. Much better, too. God's plan was to supply the needs of not just my life, but my husband's, our birthmom's, and ultimately Ezekiel's. I have a feeling Zeke knows it, too. I have a feeling he can't wait to make God so proud of the life He gave him. I just have a feeling.

Hold on He said. I can't wait He said. And now, oh God NOW- I get it! I can see why you were excited. He's everything I never knew I wanted AND MORE. Thank you for loving me so much God and never leaving me even though I left you.

Oh, and that last word- THEM. I'm still not sure what that means. Not sure if we will adopt another, and I seriously have no idea how we could afford it. There is one thing I do know, though- I'm wide open to whatever God wants and I'm ready to trust His promise to supply ALL my needs. No matter what. No matter when. I'm listening.

Ezekiel Lee Quellhorst 6 months 

Philippians 4:19 & 20 
And my God will supply all your needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus. To our God and Father be glory forever and ever. Amen.

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

Miracles That Cannot Be Counted

“Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.”

― C.S. Lewis

Friday, February 19th 2016 was an ordinary day. My husband and I woke up, drank our coffee, kissed goodbye and went off to our jobs. It was a calmer day than usual at work for me and I even remembered to pack a lunch, so when 1:00 came around, I found myself in the teacher's lounge enjoying a peaceful lunch with my colleagues. I had no idea that once that lunch was finished my entire life would change forever. 

Ok, side note: When you become active with an adoption agency, they make it clear that the communication you have them will be mainly through email from then on out. In other words, adoption agencies don't actually call you unless it's "THE CALL." They don't dial your number unless it's important, big. 

Back to Friday: Lunch is over, it's about 2:00 in the afternoon and I'm outside, walking back to my office to finish my day when my phone rings. I looked down and see the words Kansas City. 

There is only one reason an unknown Kansas City number would be calling...And within the next three rings, before I answered the phone, my head became light as it swarmed with questions...

Wait, why are they calling me when we haven't even been matched with a birthmother? 
Is this is my cousin who lives in Kansas City? Maybe she got a new number.
Where should I answer it? Should I run to my office? What if I miss the call?
Do I need to have a pen and paper? 

And then I felt faint and my hands began to shake. I sat my lunch box on the ground, sat down on the ledge of our school's fountain, and answered the phone. 

"Hi Tara, this is Laurie from American Adoptions, can you get Jeremy on the phone? (I must not have said anything). Tara? Are you there? If it's possible get Jeremy on the phone that would be great, we need to discuss something."

Who knows what I said in response to Laurie at this point. It probably wasn't even english, if anything at all. 

Then Laurie said a sentence I will never forget as long as I live, she said...

"Tara, a baby was born in Oregon at 2:00am this morning."

A baby was what? Whoa. Breathe. What? BORN? THIS MORNING!??  Immediately I started to pray, before I hung up the phone my heart started pleading with God and loud and clear I heard God say "I've got you. I've got this. Go call your husband." And so with that little info, a baby was born in Oregon, I ran back to my office and called my husband. He then called Laurie and she conferenced us all together.

These were the details:
Baby boy (oh my gosh, a BOY!)
Born in Oregon (Wow, all the way across the country!)
Birthmother had chosen us as one of her top three couples- actually, we were her THIRD choice but God decided to bless the two other couples ahead of us with babies right before this baby boy was we quickly rose to her first choice. When it's God's plan, He will move Heaven and Earth.

And finally- We had to be in Oregon within 24 hours to accept this opportunity. AND we had to plan to be there anywhere from 10 days to 3 weeks.


OK, remember when God whispered "I've got this?" He wasn't kidding.

This is what happened within those 24 hours:

Plane tickets to Oregon- My parents donated their miles.

Plane tickets back to Florida- Jeremy's mom donated her miles.

Dog sitter for possibly 3 weeks- One of my best friends, Lana, called right away and said she would take our dog AND take us to the airport the next morning, even though that meant being at our house at 5:30am!

Two cats to feed and look after- My neighbor and good friend Jenny came over that night and not only did she bring me baby boy clothes, socks, blankets and burp clothes, but she also said she would feed and look after the cats for the whole time we were gone. She even bought them food on her own dime!

Car rental- A mom of one of the 5th grade students I teach called and said "I've got your car, no matter how long you need it. It's on me."

Hotel- Mike (a man I've never met) who sounded like he was straight out of the movie My Cousin Vinny is the step-father of my dear friend, Jaime. Jaime texted me and said, "Call my dad, he wants to help, here's his number." I called Mike when we were on the plane getting ready to take off. Mike said "I'm adopted, my brother is adopted. I had a great childhood. I want to help you get your baby. I've got the hotel bill for as long as you need it. Let me do this." Friends, that hotel bill was near $2k by the time we checked out.

Adoption expenses- We could only say "yes" to that call if we were able to raise $3k more. This had to do with the extra adoption expenses in Oregon. I took to FaceBook and asked family and friends to help if they could and to please share our story. Our Go Fund Me account jumped up to $3k that first 24 hours and we raised $5k by the time we left. Not only could we afford the adoption, we had money for food.

Two weeks later, on March 3rd, 2016 we arrived home in Florida a family of three.

For 1,460 days we prayed for a child and on an ordinary Friday God looked down on our little family and said: "Watch this."

His name is Ezekiel "Zeke" Lee Quellhorst, it means God strengthens, and he is our son. Praise Jesus.

He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed. Miracles that cannot be counted. -Job 5:9

Sunday, February 14, 2016

All You Need Is Love

One year ago today I was so remarkably tired, I didn't recognize myself. 

One year ago today I was so deeply wounded, the once bright energy of life had been sucked out of me.

One year ago today, on Valentine's Day, my heart was so broken, so torn to pieces, that I finally decided to let go. 

Then the tears came. I cried at home getting ready for dinner, in the car, at dinner, and even during dessert. The tears came and poured out of me like a busted dam. It was time to move on. And even though that meant time to heal, it also meant scary, new territory. 

One year ago today my husband an I decided no more needles, no more pills, no more rushing to the doctor's office, no more counting down the days to see if the procedure worked- NO MORE. We left the hope of becoming pregnant in the past and with locked eyes decided, over tear-soaked lasagna and wine, that our desire to become parents was bigger than our desire to become pregnant. 

One year ago today we decided to adopt. 

We knew nothing about adoption, so we started slow. We started with prayer. We read other families' stories. We watched "gotcha day" videos on YouTube. We visited my cousin and her family in Missouri to see what their life was like with this little, amazing adopted toddler. We read up on laws, and agencies, and different types of adoption. 

We slowly, but surly, and finally blissfully began to heal. 

Today, by the Grace of God,  I am a changed woman. I do regret one single failed fertility treatment. I do not wish that it had been "easy." I would not go back and do it differently. I would not change a thing. 

One year later, this is what I believe: Through my hurt, fear, and broken heart God was painting a beautiful family portrait. His method is different and his paint isn't the color I thought it would be, but I know it is the most beautiful picture I will ever see, it's the picture of love. I believe God's plan has been to bless me, my husband, AND my children all along. They will be blessed because their parents will be stronger, love them deeper, have more patience, and teach them what they believe to be true about this life: "Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance." 1 Corinthians 13:7

Simple, really. It turns out all you need to win your battles in life is love. 

Happy Valentine's Day! 

Sunday, January 17, 2016

I Have A Secret

So, I have a secret.

But first, let's recap:

Today it happened in the women's room at church with a woman I adore, yesterday it happened in the hallway (also at church) with a very kind man I've never met, Friday night it happened when we were out with good friends, and in the past couple of months we've heard it at the supermarket, in the teacher's lounge, at Starbucks, on FaceBook Messenger, through email, through texts, and pretty much anywhere we've run into someone we know well or are acquaintances with but haven't seen recently.

You all want to know: "How is it going?"

You also want to know: "Why is it taking so long?"

And sometimes (because you have a sweet heart and kind soul), you add: "It must be SO hard." 

So, like I said, I have a secret. Are you ready?

Well, we have no news, no leads, and no baby we know of showing up in the future, BUT (here it is):
We are SO happy and this isn't hard at all! In fact, we are filled with peace and joy! 


Listen, I expected "The Wait" to be SO hard. I expected to have a super anxious heart. I FOR SURE expected to be losing more sleep and a little of my mind since God blessed me with my Type A, controlling, impatient nature… (you know it's true). BUT, to be perfectly honest- none of that has happened!

I was thinking about this today when the woman from the bathroom asked me if we had any news and then she added that she didn't want to ask but was curious.


Ok, I feel better, that's off my chest.

This journey has been a JOY for us to be on. It's not something that's hard or sensitive for us, it's exciting, hopeful, and so fun for us to talk about.

Infertility is HARD. Losing hope month after month is HARD. Infertility treatments, hormone supplements, and holding your breath while you wait to see if maybe this time…is HARD.

Twenty negative pregnancy tests is HARD.

This is different. Don't get me wrong, our wait journey toward adoption has had it's challenges but the hope that lives inside me for our future family, and the joy I feel from following God's call to adopt, that's the best feeling in the world.

That's how I know this is what God wants, and has always wanted for my life. I have peace. So much peace. And I am happy, genuinely happy. Even now. Even in the in-between. I know He is faithful. I know He's making a way.

Oh, and one more thing- the next time you wonder how we can endure the wait, just look at your kids.

Would you wait for them?

How long?

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Then and Now

New Year's Eve 2011:
I'm in a new, sparkly gold dress and shoes I can barely walk in headed downtown with my ever so handsome husband to celebrate the best year of my life to date- 2011- the year we got married.

Here's the thing no one knew that night: Not only was I celebrating my brand new marriage, I was secretly praying for the rest of 2011 to hurry up and get over with because 2012 was the year I JUST KNEW I would become a mother...

The day after I got married I asked my husband if we could throw the birth control pills out the window. I was so ready to start a family with this beautiful, amazing man that I could hardly wait to be pregnant. I suggested that we try for a honeymoon baby. My very wise husband had other ideas. He told me he wanted to share married life alone with me for a year before we brought a baby into the mix. He said we would never have that special time as husband and wife back and that we needed to get to know one another in these new roles first. So, with disappointment in my voice, I agreed. One year. On April 1st 2012 I was disposing of all birth control and we were going to begin the rest of our lives (finally) as a family.

So the countdown began and became very real that last evening of 2011. I remember I even secretly cried at midnight- happy, excited tears. Tomorrow, I was starting the first year of my life as a mom. I was beaming with all the was ahead.

New Years Eve 2015:
I am in a longer, more sensible blue dress and super pretty heels I can walk in without pain. I am downtown in a crowed club with a dozen of my favorite people, including, of course, my ever so handsome husband.

I find myself sometime after midnight having a conversation with a friend-of-a-friend. A girl I just met earlier. Her and her husband have been trying to have a baby for awhile and it's not working. She doesn't go into detail, and I don't ask. I've learned it doesn't matter really, anyway. She wants to know about adoption. Turns out her husband is adopted and loves the idea since his childhood was so special. Naturally, I am overcome with excitement for her and I jump in with all things adoption. She listens with light in her eyes and a big, genuine smile on her face. I know that smile, I know that light- she's ready. She's not just ready to be pregnant or hold onto hope that another fertility treatment may succeed. She's ready to be a mother no matter the mounds of paperwork ahead, no matter the months of waiting in silence, no matter the DNA.

There were years that I lost that light in my eyes. YEARS. I became very good at hiding my sadness. I became an expert at lying to people about my struggles and ultimately lying to myself. I honestly thought if I could just try harder, drink less coffee, exercise more, exercise less, stop drinking wine, drink more wine to relax, go on vacation, get acupuncture everyday, drink more almond milk, take my temperature daily, test my ovulation, see every specialist, test my blood, and TAKE ALL THE SUPPLEMENTS that I would finally become pregnant. Talk about losing your mind.

In the midst of my controlling and (let's be honest) kinda crazy behavior, there was one very important thing I wasn't doing. I wasn't asking God what He wanted for my life. Don't get me wrong- I was praying, BOY WAS I PRAYING! But my prayers had tunnel vision: that we become pregnant. I wasn't asking God what He wanted for our lives as parents. I was assuming I knew what He wanted and if I tried harder, He would grant me that wish.

So here's the thing I've learned the hard way- this is not how our loving God works. He is not a magical, wish-granting genie. He is not waiting for me to say or do the right thing and then BAM give me what I've asked for. God wants our heart, all of our heart and He wants us to trust that He has the best in store for us. Nothing but the best. Once I shifted my prayers and began asking God to use me, my life drastically changed and slowly the light entered back in.

Wow, yeah, so- I could have become pregnant that year of 2012 and we could have moved on with our lives like many do. We would have been happy. We would have had some struggles but ultimately, we would have made it through.

But guess what happened instead?

Instead, I've had FIVE amazing years getting to know my husband better and we've made the best memories, just him and I, that I will cherish forever. God gave me teenagers to love while I waiting for a baby (His sense of humor mixed with always knowing what I need) and I've had the joy of creating art with them on stage, giggling over their romances, and holding their hands while we pray (and sometimes weep) for their broken hearts and scary futures. And God brought me face-to-face with Him when I was at my darkest. I have been granted the best gift of all: coming closer to Jesus.

I can only describe it as being saved from drowning. I was deep, deep in sorrow, my heart was severely broken, and it was getting harder to breathe. In that moment God found a way to reach His mighty hand down in that place, look me square in the face, and LIFT me out. Once I was lifted, I was also given the gift of courage to share my story. I've never been brave enough before, I was always ashamed of our infertility, but suddenly, and with new passion that wasn't of me, I wanted everyone to know everything I'd been through.

That was The Plan. 
To share. To be brutally honest. To be translucent. For me, for you, and for all who come after me and need it. The Plan doesn't consist of just becoming a mother, that's just a part of the The Plan. God's Plan is SO MUCH MORE BEAUTIFUL AND GRATIFYING than that. The Plan was and continues to be about coming closer to God and giving my life over to Him, no matter  the *fill in the blank.*

So this year I have no other wish than to seek Jesus and wait on His perfect timing. Am I wanting a baby? Yes. Do I sometimes get impatient. YES. Is it possible we will go another year without having a child? Yes. Am I ready to fight the fight and trust that God will not let me drown, no matter what? YES LORD YES! LET'S DO THIS, 2016!

Saturday, December 12, 2015

I Thought She Was Mine

Last Saturday evening a baby girl was born.

Phone call came Sunday morning that she needed a home.

Brand new baby girl, 6lbs, healthy, and just two fast hours away.

I tried to guard my heart. I've heard all the stories. I couldn't.

My maternal instincts kicked in. I wanted her safe. My husband kept saying she needs love and she needs it now. We wanted her home.

We tidied up the nursery and for the first time ever, I packed a diaper bag.

Sunday we rejoiced. A baby, finally, after all these years. I drove my husband to the airport that day for four days of training in Atlanta. In this situation, things would take a few days, so we were sure by the time he made it back on Thursday, all the arrangements would have been made and we would be ready to go and pick her up.

Monday I made arrangements at work. They hugged me, cried, and celebrated my leave.

Tuesday things started to become muddy. Details were confusing. Stories were changing. The words "red flags" were uttered by my adoption agency. It began to fall apart.

By Wednesday it was over.

Then there was the silence. Silence so loud it's deafening. I simply did not know how I would sleep through that night or get up for work the next day. By God's grace and the loving support of my family, I made it through to the next day, and the next day, and by God's grace I will make it through today.

For reasons I will not disclose here out of respect for the birth family, the birth mother was not reachable. Her family, us, and our adoption specialists could not talk to her, and as far as I know, still no one has. Without communication, we could not move forward.

The baby girl could be in the custody of family or she could be in foster care. I'm not really sure.

All I know is I thought she was mine.

This is a common story in the adoption process and before it happened to us we would say "If a baby doesn't end up with us, we know that wasn't our baby." We would say that. We have said that since. I can tell you, even though we do believe that, it doesn't make the pain go away. It doesn't cover the wound.

Here's the good news- God is in control. I FIRMLY believe that our God- The Creator of the Universe- will move Heaven and Earth to put Baby Q. in our arms. I know He would not allow our baby to simply slip away from us. I know that what we see as a missed opportunity to finally become a family, He sees as a way of protecting us from something out of our control.

God tells us He goes before us. One of my dear friends who has gone through this very thing before  described it like this: It's like a baby crying her eyes out in the car seat, but you can't take her out of the car seat until you're home because it isn't safe. She doesn't understand why you can't just take her out, because she doesn't see the danger. But it's not your job to try and make a baby understand, it's your job as a parent to keep her safe.

God has me buckled in safe and secure in this life. He is my Father and my Father is not about to let me wander into to something that isn't His BEST. In fact, He keeps telling me through His Word that he wants better for me than my human brain can ever imagine.

So I will trust what He says. I will ask Him for patience and strength as we begin the wait again. I will lean on the prayers going up to Heaven from the hundreds of people He has given to support us throughout this journey. I will fight back the enemy when he places doubt and fear in my way. I will raise my faith sword to the sky and I will battle on.

It hurts, Dad, but I will stay buckled in until you get me home.

Romans 8:37-39
No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us. And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Sunday, December 6, 2015

You Were There

I'm thinking about you today, Baby Q.

My heart is full of anticipation to meet you, to hold you, and to tell you the story of how you came to us.

You see, Baby Q., you have always been here.

You were there the first time I noticed your father's blue eyes.

You were there the first time we kissed.

You were there on one of those first precious dates when we laughed about what we would name our children.

You were there when your father proposed to me.

You were there when your grandfather walked me down the aisle.

You were there when we fell asleep that first night in our new home discussing which room we would make a nursery.

And you were there when the doctors told us we could not have children on our own.

Your story begins with our love story and without that story, even the heartbreak of infertility and the dark days of uncertainty, we would not have you, Baby Q.

I'm thinking about you today, my little love, and I cannot wait to tell you the story of how you came to us.

I cannot wait for God to unravel the pages of your story like a magical book.

It will be a bestseller in our house for years to come because it will star YOU.

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Life As I Know It

When I was little, I thought having a relationship with God meant never having hardships in life. That God would magically shield me from all that was wrong with the world. Admittedly, at that age, "all that was wrong with the world" probably meant protecting me from getting a D on my science project. Now, my perspective is different. Bad things do happen to good people. Bad things happen to those who love God and follow his commands. This world is filled with bad choices and heartbreak, and we are all going to go experience pain, loss, sadness and grief no matter who we are and what we believe. So what's the point, then? Why should we "buy in" to this whole Jesus stuff if it doesn't protect you from the world's worst?

Well, this is a topic we could talk about for hours. And yes, I do believe having a relationship with Jesus is THE ANSWER. THE ONLY ANSWER to true happiness. But I can only tell you my experiences, so here's one:

In a doctor's office almost four years ago a fertility specialist looked at me (Jeremy and I were actually told separately, that's another story for another day) and told me my husband and I would never be able to have children naturally. Ever. Nothing could be done to change that. No amount of money and no procedure could ever fix it. Time stood still, my hands went numb, I lost hearing, and I felt like I would never breathe, not really breathe, ever again. Everything about the way I saw my life laid out before me had changed in that moment. Life as I knew and dreamt it would never be the same. 

At first I was very angry with God. I have distinct memories of banging my fist on the dashboard of my car in that Tampa parking lot and screaming at Him. I couldn't understand how He could let this happen to us. I couldn't understand what I had done wrong to deserve this. I was ready to negotiate with Him (which, there is no such thing, but we've all been there), I would do anything if He could just take this from us and make it better.

Then something life changing happened in my marriage. After my anger subsided, and my vision was less blurred, I realized for the first time that my husband was reading his Bible regularly. He wasn't angry with God, on the contrary, he seemed to be coming closer to Him. As my husband became closer to God, our marriage became stronger. I thought our relationship was good, but this was a whole new level. He started listening to me more, respecting me in ways I had never experienced and I felt more loved than I ever had before. He even wanted to go church hunting to find a new church where we, as a couple, could grow. These were words I'd never heard him say before. My husband began to transform in front of my eyes into the man I had prayed to God about when I was a little girl. Into the man I had only dreamed existed.

Here's what happened next: In the depths of our grief, in the loss of our dream of children, my husband began a relationship with Jesus FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER. Before then, he was just going through the motions. Did he believe there was a God? Yes. Was he going to church with me on Sunday? Yes. Was he a Christ follower? No. This revelation came because we were at our lowest. This new relationship was built on pure trust that God would carry us through. This was NEW.

Here's what I know now looking back- had God not allowed us to be hit with this awful thing called infertility, my husband may not have ever met Him. Infertility quite literally saved my husband's life and ultimately our marriage. Without God's intervention on my husband's heart, our marriage would not have survived that blow. And God took it a step further, He, in His miraculous grace not only saved our marriage but made it better.

So what's the point then?

In a doctor's office somewhere across the country a young woman already has, is, or will soon be receiving the terrifying news that she is pregnant. Terrifying because she has no partner, or maybe she has no family, or because she's in her junior year of high school and has just started looking at colleges and dreaming about her career. Whatever her situation may be, she knows she could not live with herself if she doesn't choose life for her unborn baby. Time is will stand still, it will be hard for her to breathe, and everything about the way she saw her life laid before her will change in that moment. Life as she knows it and dreams it will never be the same. 

Enter God...

Watch our whole story here

Thursday, September 24, 2015


We have made it. It's Fall. Pumpkin spiced everything. In fact, I have Trader Joe's pumpkin filled ravioli waiting to be boiled this very second. Who cares that it's 92 degrees outside, dang it, it is FALL! Every girl in this great country is already spending way too much time on Pinterest making fall boards filled with leaf wreaths, pumpkin recipes and cute ideas for jack-o'-lanterns. And let's not even get started on Starbucks…

So here we are. The holiday season is upon us. Usually I fear this time of year. I know, I know, WHAT? WHY? Well, for those of us who really really want kids and don't have them, the holiday season is an unavoidable reminder that we are still sitting on the bench. Still waiting to be included in all that comes with the joy of children around this time of year. I mean, the Halloween costumes alone!

By the way, I love the word fall. Is such a dynamic word. We use it to describe the way we feel when we meet that one person we cannot live without: Falling in love. We use it to describe the way we feel when we've been swindled: I feel for it.

Falling means that we have no control. That we are free. That we are open.

As we approach Fall, and Jeremy and I continue to sit on the waiting list, I often feel as if I am falling. Finally we are on the list. Finally we have a real chance at being parents. Finally.
But when? Even though we have made it to this huge milestone, we are still clueless about when this will happen for us. No idea.

Only God knows.

And so we fall. We fall with great faith that He is in control when we are not.

And we are not alone, we have you! Your prayers and support are carrying us through.  We know God has chosen our baby already and He and His angels are counting down the days until they get to have the Baby Q. party!

So, will you join us this Fall and fall along with us?

No clue what the future holds.

No idea when that phone call will come.

No net.

Just faith.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Hurry Up and Wait!

For three months Jeremy and I have been checking email, filling out forms, faxing paperwork, going to doctor visits, getting reference letters, going to the post office, interviewing ourselves on camera, emailing our agency, interviewing our friends on camera, phoning our agency, writing essays about how we plan to educate our children, what our neighborhood looks like, and why we want to adopt as well as coming up with fundraising ideas, promoting those fundraising ideas, and worrying about how we were going to afford this adoption when all-of-a-sudden-like-a-freight-train-coming-to-a-swift-stop- IT'S OVER. WE ARE DONE. 


Sooooooo O.K., cool. You're "active," Tara. Congrats!

And by the way, what does that mean?

Great question- glad you asked.

Active mans that we have finished all the paperwork, have an active home study and have the funds available to say YES to an adoption opportunity. Before now we have only been in the process of becoming active. Before now, no birth mother knew we even existed and wanted to adopt. 

In short, we have begun "THE WAIT." 

Our agency will now begin showing our profile to potential birth mothers in hopes that one of them will look at us, watch our video, read our essays and say YES, I choose them.

With American Adoptions, the average wait time for a baby to be placed in your arms is 3-12 months. (This number does not include the three months we have spent getting everything in order to become active. )

Placement means the baby is placed in your home and the adoption is final. 

Their average match time is 1-9 months.

Matched means our birth mother is still pregnant but has decided that she would like to place her baby with our family.

In other words, we could get a phone call on Thursday from the agency saying there's a birth mother who is interested in you and would like to talk to you on the phone. The agency would do a conference call in that case and be on the phone with us. If that phone call went well, we could be matched by next Friday. If she is due next month and all works out, we could be new parents NEXT MONTH.

OR we could hear absolutely nothing from our agency for 7, 8, 9 months… or more.

Just depends.

Of course, there is always the possibility of a disruption:
We could be matched with a woman who is four months pregnant, be in contact with her getting updates on her pregnancy throughout those four months, fly to her state for the delivery and she could decide after delivery that she would like to keep the baby. That's her choice and she has every right to make it. THAT COULD HAPPEN.

What happens then? Well, we grieve, we pray, and we put ourselves back out there feeling confident that THAT wasn't OUR Baby Q., and that God is still in control. Thank God, with American Adoptions, there is no financial penalty to us with a disruption. That is not the case with all agencies. In some agencies, if you lose the baby, you also lose your birth mother expenses and that can be up to $20k. We would lose nothing in terms of money. We would just be put back on the list and begin again.

So, we will try hard to guard our hearts and we ask our families and friends to do the same.

Will it be easy to guard our hearts after we've been matched? UM NO.

Will we want to shout it from the rooftops, share the gender and celebrate? Of course!

BUT we will not buy anything blue, we will not begin registering for anything pink and we will not choose a name because we need to try protect our hearts, and try as best we can.

Once our baby is placed in our arms, our birth mother has signed the papers and the judge in that state says "go home…."




But until then… we wait.

Haven't heard our story? Click here!

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

How Blessed Am I?

I love Amy Scott. Amy Scott is this sweet girl who goes to our church and I got the pleasure of being her co-counselor this summer at Camp Cherokee. Amy and I are nothing alike. I giggle as I write that because she would agree with a giggle as well- we are polar opposites!

Why you ask? Well…

Amy thinks before she speaks, me- um, not so much.

Amy is the poster girl for natural beauty and looks amazing without makeup. I, on the other hand, pile on the makeup in the morning with a shovel. If you ever see me without makeup, ask me if everything is O.K., chances are my house burnt down.

Amy is an incredible listener who focuses on you when you speak. If I see a bird fly out of the corner of my eye all of a sudden my mind is wandering about birds and wondering what Wonder Woman's superpower was, did she fly? Hold old was Wonder Woman? Did she like Wonder bread? Was she married? Did she have kids? Was "Wonder" her first name? That's kinda a cool first name… wait… no… no it's not.

You get the gist.

So when Amy recommend her boss be our pediatrician, I didn't hesitate to say "yes please." Amy knows babies, and I would be silly to not listen to her.

Yesterday we had the pleasure of meeting our new Baby Doc and we LOVED HIM. We are certain we want him to guide our little Q babies through their precious childhood years.

With that said, here's the thing: Jeremy and I thought we were meeting him alone. We pictured an office with a little back and forth chatting and some questions and answers. We didn't realize we would be in a group setting. A setting with two other pregnant women and their partners. Ok, not a big deal. This makes sense. He's killing three birds with one stone. I'm sure this is normal… but…

Even though I know I'm going to be a mother and even though I know adoption is God's plan for my life, I, all-of-a-sudden felt a lump in my throat and a shallowness to my breathing that I haven't felt in a LONG time. I was jealous. I admit it. I was jealous of the advice our new doctor was giving these beautiful women about giving birth. I felt pangs of jealousy when he asked them their due dates and what gender their babies were.

I felt left out. Not part of the club. An imposter. Even, if I'm being honest, a little silly.

I don't know when our baby is due or what gender we are having or what state for that matter. I don't even know if this will happen soon or in a year.

I was so excited to walk into that office and then, out of nowhere, I was back to that place of confusion and uncertainly.

How does this story end? Well, I put on my smile, asked my questions, and even gave my number to one of the expecting mothers who is new to Florida. I did what we all do, I swallowed, breathed, shook it off and went home.

So that brings me to today. This morning I took four of my senior girls (I'm a drama teacher) on a little trip to our elementary school. They dressed up in costume, piled into my car and sang Taylor Swift at the top of their lungs. I've taught these girls since they were in 8th grade. When I say "taught" what I mean is: laughed, cried, held, picked up, brushed off, listened, disciplined, fought for and loved. They are the reason I get out of bed in the morning so early and down coffee. They are my life's work. Their happiness is my goal, and in the meantime, we've created some pretty good theatre together.

Driving them to Starbucks after our little excursion, my heart was full- AND GUESS WHAT- I didn't give birth to a single one of them. Then it hit me: If I can love these girls so fiercely and I've only taught them, this baby is going to know love like no other.

Yesterday was hard. Life gets hard. OK. Alright. But HOW BLESSED AM I to get to be a mother? Big belly or not. HOW BLESSED AM I?

Thank you, Jesus. You never disappoint.

Watch out story here.

Sunday, August 30, 2015

Summer, Spring, Winter or Fall

My husband Jeremy and I woke up this morning with a smile on our face and bounce in our step. We knew we had a full (and fun) day ahead of us- we were finally going to paint the baby furniture my best friend, Marissa gifted to us three years ago. She gave it to us then because she and her family were moving to Ohio and Jeremy and I had decided to go off of birth control and have our first baby. Three long years later and here we are, covered in paint and giggling about how perfect we are trying to make the changing table look when we know it will be just a matter of time before it's cover in pee! 

Before we headed out to the hardware store, we decided to get a good breakfast. Sitting outside waiting for a table at this cute little breakfast diner, Jeremy noticed the weather was't too bad for August in Florida, and I had to agree. I got excited and said, "Do you think we will have seasons this year?" Of course, the answer is no, it is Florida after all, but this got me thinking: This will be the first round of holidays in a long time that I will be happy and hopeful for the future. This fall could be the first Halloween I start looking at ridiculous bumble bee costumes for infants, and this winter could possibly be the first Christmas we put an extra, tiny stocking on our wall. There are going to be a whole lot of "firsts" for our little family pretty soon, and I think we will cherish them all a little bit longer than we would have after the battle we have fought with infertility, and the years spent waiting for those precious moments to begin. 

This all got me thinking about seasons and then I couldn't get The Byrds song "Turn! Turn! Turn!" out of my head for the rest of the day! You know the one. Here, I'll give you the source:

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8  
1There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
2a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
6a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

Looking at these verses, I understand it better now than I ever have. Jeremy and I desired to be parents more than anything, and when that deep desire was not met time and time again, month after month, I can honestly say we weeped, mourned, refrained from embracing, searched and often even gave up. It was painful and hard and there were times I thought that season would never end. 

I know some of you are going through that season right now. Maybe it's infertility, maybe you long to have a partner in life and can't seem to meet the right person, maybe you've recently lost a loved one and you don't know how to do life without them, or maybe your just feeling stuck in a life you didn't imagine for yourself and you don't know what the next step is or how to get back to the place when you were happy. 

Whatever it is, I want you know there IS light at the end of this dark tunnel and that light is so beautiful and so bright. 

Ok, I have to admit when people told me to "just believe" or "be patient" during my battle I wanted to throw things, heavy things, at them. How could they possibly understand this pain? Who made them Mayor of Infertility-ville? Their babies came quick and easy, what gave them the right to give me advice?!?!? Just because they went on a vacation and drank 12 margaritas, "relaxed" and came home pregnant doesn't mean I am going to! How long exactly and I supposed to "wait patiently," a year, two, twelve?!?!  And so on…and so on…and so on… 

So, I understand if you don't believe me. And you are right, i do not know your circumstances. I also do not need to know them to confidently tell you- THERE IS LIGHT. 

How do I know this? I have lived through piercing, painful heartache and I have been brought out the other side by The Hand of God Himself. The only way I survived my season of mourning was to hang on to God's promises in hope that they were real, and I've got great news for you friend- HOPE DOES NOT DISAPPOINT. 

Promises I KNOW are true: 

Promise- He is making a NEW way!

 Promise- He will hold you up with His Righteous Right Hand!

 Promise- Joy is coming!

I believe your season of healing, laughter dancing and peace is coming. I believe because God promised those things to me, and He kept His promise. I know, I KNOW it is true for you, too. 

Until it is, we will pray for you, because we know that just because our season is taking a turn for the better doesn't mean that yours isn't at it's darkest. Hold on, God's got this. He promised. 

Haven't heard our story? click here