when company comes

i've [often] considered changing the title of my blog from even the sparrow to something along the lines of, you can't make this stuff up, folks!

though, as a child, and maybe even still as a story-telling adult, i am prone (just prone...only prone) to exaggeration...i, typically, do not embellish my anecdotes here in this blog.

but one might think i do.

last night's party-story, a perfect example.

i mentioned in my blog post sunday, that though i was away for the weekend, i should have been home readying the house for a party we were hosting tuesday night.  emily's high school volleyball teams (all 3) and their parents/families were coming to celebrate the end of the season.   if you haven't read about this team, check out amazing girls. anyway, approximately 85 people were on their way for dinner.  i wasn't cooking, only cleaning, and as i said above, "readying."

readying for me involves much more than mopping the floor and putting out extra hand towels in the bathroom.  readying for me yesterday, involved important things like hanging icicle lights from the front porch roof (thank you heidi larkin).  readying includes things like trimming more evergreen from the yard and placing bundles around the house.  it includes adding cranberries to candles and extra ornaments to the tree.  i'm not going to lie, i ADORE adding the special touches and little extras which i allow myself when company comes.  my husband calls it, "party mode."  when he sees me in my flurry of extra accent activity his comment is always, "oh boy, watch out kids, mom is in party mode." and yes, i am.  and yes, they should (watch out). 

good  fireplace...bad tree.

but here's the deal, though we've thrown a lot of parties, i am pretty sure we have never hosted anything in our house without some kind of story.  i almost expect it. remember the post, no place like home years ago about the christmas candlelight open house -- i'll link you to that little gem.  it was a doozy.  and last night i had a similar moment which might rival that embarrassing episode from 2010.

it began yesterday morning when i woke up to find that OF COURSE the christmas tree lights were ALL OUT.   my 6 am thought, "you've got to be kidding me!"  seriously! and if that wasn't enough, on my way upstairs to wake sleeping children for school, i noticed half -- yes, HALF -- the lights on the bannister garland were also out.   have you ever attempted to replace lights on a real live, already hung garland?  it's not pretty.

please appreciate the icicle lights!

okay, so after stopping at target and arming myself with multiple boxes of new lights i headed home to tackle my project.  i have to tell you though, while at target, i obviously over estimated myself, and picked up a box of icicle lights as well.  on the way to school that morning connor had been going on and on about how wonderful icicle lights would look hanging on the outside of our house.  keep in mind i have spent the last couple of weeks stringing lights and garland from post to post...corner to corner.  but i cannot help myself when an idea strikes.  and i cannot help myself when my 9 year old boy begins to talk about his christmas light vision. i had to agree with him -- they would look pretty good.  i probably should have thought about this earlier in the week, but on the off chance, on this day with close to 100 people coming to dinner, i found 10 extra minutes to drag out a ladder, hammer and some nails, i just might be able to swing it.  (that was my delusional thought process standing in the christmas aisle of target at 8:30 am yesterday morning - bella and i both in our pajamas -- clearly, i hadn't had enough coffee yet).

bella and i arrived home and proceeded to tackle the tree.  i was worried we'd have to undress the entire green monster -- all 12 feet of it.  garland, ribbon and precious ornaments -- that could, very well, take all day.  you know how these things go.  well, good news!  it turned out to be only an outlet issue.  you see, this behemoth tree is smack dab in the middle of our great room.  it looks cool there, and because there was this perfectly placed little outlet in the middle of the floor running an extension cord across the room wasn't necessary. well, it wasn't necessary when that outlet was working.  BUT, after it blew, i had to get all creative with several extension cords and the area rug.  ah, don't y'all just love the little intricacies and challenges of christmas lighting!

okay, well that was the start of my day.  let's fast forward to 15 minutes before the party began.  everything was ready.  everything in place. the house looked, i have to admit, pretty darn good.  smelled good.  felt good. i was in my element -- the queen [wanna] bee hostess with the mostess! (or something like that).

and then i decided to light the fires in the fireplaces.  (rick was on his way home from work, but had to pick up connor from basketball practice).  i want you to know, i am a friend to fire.  it doesn't scare me.  i light them all the time.  no big deal.  so i lit the first fire in the great room...lovely. picturesque. the perfect touch. i sighed in a moment of utter contentment.  i went on to light the second fire in the family room.  we had had that flue closed this week and i realized the fireplace hadn't been cleaned out in a while (we use our fireplaces every single day--minnesota living)....anyway, when i opened the flue a huge gust of cold air came rushing down and out.  i coughed and rubbed my eyes.  yuck.  but, the good news was, i was sure the flue was wide open.  remember, i am not a novice when it comes to starting fires. i know a thing or two about tricky fireplaces, we had them in our atlanta house as well.  i know the importance of getting the fire going fast while making sure to heat the chimney with newspaper held up high...i know the tricks.  but when i lit this fire and did what i know to do, it didn't work.  it just didn't work.  the gust of wind kept coming down except now i had a fire and hot ash and it all came billowing out at me and at the room.  i really cannot describe to you how crazy this was.  soot and old ash and new hot ash and tiny bits of burning newspaper swirling out of the chimney and all over this room -- this room filled with white couches and a mantle full of dry, crisp, real evergreen.  i began to panic as the firey ash settled and began to spark on the garland and fly all over the room.  it seems i always have at least 2 or 3 kids at my heels,  but of course, at this moment, there wasn't a soul to be found.  i began to scream for my older kids to come help.

"TYLER!  EMILY!" TYYY-LLEER! EM-AAAA-LEEEEE! HELP MEEEEEE!"

at that very moment the door bell rang.

imagine soot and ashes - everywhere!

i ran to the front door,  frantically flung it open and found the johnson family standing on my front porch with bright smiles under the newly hung icicle lights, arms full of food (they were the family catering the evening) and screamed, (yes, screamed) "THE FIREPLACE IS ON FIRE, BUT COME ON IN!"  and then i continued to run down the front hall screaming, "TYYYY-LLEER! EM-AAAA-LEEEEE! HELP MEEEE!!!"

the somewhat startled johnsons came in and my older kids came down and we got things under control.  tyler and i worked on the fire and it finally calmed down and started to behave like a good fire should with smoke and heat going UP the chimney and not OUT in my family room.  nothing actually did catch fire, but there was ash everywhere.  at this point, the door bell began to ring again.  guests were arriving.  emily grabbed a broom and dustpan.  i grabbed the vacuum.  and we began to clean up the mess.  about 20 seconds into the vacuuming POOF -- THE POWER WENT OUT.  yes, i had blown a fuse. i suppose one strand too many christmas lights in this old house.  it must have been the icicle lights.  yes, i'm sure it was the blankety-blank icicle lights!  i looked up in my darkened room the tree lights out, the garland lights out, about half the house was light-less.  

ding-dong.  the door bell continued to ring.

the bad fireplace!

you can imagine.

i won't publish my exact words here in this blog.  but they weren't exactly pretty.

as guests began to filter into my ash covered, half-darkened home, i, also slightly sooty, headed for the basement (really a creepy old cellar).  back upstairs for a flash light i ran, the creepy cellar was pitch black too.  i literally prayed all the way to the fuse box. i hadn't had to deal with it before and i sure as heck wasn't looking forward to addressing it right at this moment as a party was descending on my house.  i wanted to be upstairs stirring punch and lighting christmas candles and warmly welcoming my guests.  instead i felt (and looked) like i was in the middle of a war zone -- a holiday-hoop-a-la war zone!

let's just stop here for a moment and ask, why does this happen? why do these things happen right at the moment of guests arriving?  why did the christmas tree lights not work on THIS morning...the fireplace explode on THIS evening... why?  i am not sure.  i've done my very best to let God know i've learned the lesson of humility...am learning it...always learning it... i am not sure why this kind of stuff happens to me.  except that it sure as heck makes life more interesting and as my friend, jackie johnson kept saying last night, "i can't wait to read about this in your blog tomorrow!"  jackie was the one standing at the front door with all the food.

so, how does this ridiculous story end?

the cellar fuse box -- creepy!

i opened the old electrical box with great amounts of fear and trembling --  keep in mind our house is almost 100 years old.  i was not prepared for this.  i was not prepared to tackle an old electrical box in an even older house -- not with my door bell ringing up above.  yes, i was praying as i stood shaking before this frightening box of too many switches.

with the beam of flashlight i stood looking and praying and deciphering.  it was a triumphant moment -- like an angels we have heard on high kind of moment -- when the basement lights came back on.  i knew we were headed in the right direction.  i ran back upstairs and found my house, though still a little sooty, glowing again in the spirit of christmas lighting.  i put away the vacuum.  we swept and mopped up the remaining ashes.

ding-dong...the guests continued to pour into our entryway.

it was a wonderful evening.  it was.  i can’t tell you how much i enjoyed the time celebrating these awesome girls.  we had fellowship and fun.  it was a night of festivity.  most people had no idea of the chaos just moments before their arrival last night.  and isn’t that usually how it is?

most of us don’t know what’s happened just before we open the door and walk into someone's life.  i guess that’s one of the lessons from last night’s entertaining armageddon.  it's good to remember, we really don't know what messes and mishaps people are in the middle of when we come calling.  i don't know if i needed quite that level of excitement last night to arrive at this conclusion, but i refuse to let the mayhem pass without extracting some kind of something good.  at least a decent blogpost! (to humor my sweet friend, jackie johnson)!

this morning, while in the family room, i noticed there was still plenty of ash scattered around.  we never got it all up last night.  someone probably took a look at the sooty bookcase and wondered why i hadn't cleaned.  and that's okay.  i did my best...even got those icicle lights up on the roof...maybe i'll think twice before judging someone else's sooty bookcase.  but the bottom line is this party wasn't about what i had accomplished in this pretty house, this party was about some pretty awesome girls and their accomplishments this season.

so there you have it.  a wild, wild tale.  maybe a tad embellished, but no exaggeration. something to write about.  something to think about.  something to (someday...SOMEday) laugh about.

i'll make sure y'all know about the next party we throw!

the holidays on hold

diana's christmas tree had fallen over twice the night before.  jen's husband was back in louisiana watching their five children and busily wrapping the front columns of their home with red ribbon (think candy cane effect).  paige's husband was also at home in memphis.  paige and hank have six children - need i say more.  and we mcnatts, well, we were supposed to be getting the house ready to entertain a group of 80 + guests this coming week and i had a "joseph" costume to finish for connor by monday morning.

but the holidays were on hold --  at least for this weekend.

instead of attending to the christmas and chaos back at our homes, the four of us were holed up and nestled down in a minnesota log cabin  -- WAY up north!  twenty children total between us and we were, at least for this weekend, unfathomably and gloriously ALONE.  four blogging mamas, our laptops, a little chick food, some wine and a whole lot of chit chat.  but not a soul to be found under the age of 40.  no kids. no husbands. no christmas. no concerns.

i have to tell you a little bit about the story because it's rather remarkable.  it speaks to the powerful connection of women.  it speaks to the even more powerful connection of those who adopt. and it speaks to the most powerful connection of those who believe in Jesus.

i've already mentioned we have 20 children between us, and 8 of them have been adopted from china.  do you think we had some things to talk about or do you think we had some things to talk about?  at one point, diana's husband, jeff, texted (around midnight) and asked if we had run out of things to discuss.  "nope!" it was well after 1:30 am when we finally dragged our silly, sleepy selves to bed.  we had covered every topic from our photography to our frustrations...from our blogposts to our blond highlights. the girls had even helped me redesign the header to my blog (pretty nice, huh?) it is a true friend who will sit at her computer (post-midnight) adding shades of saphire blue to the jeans of your children's photo. from the moment we had arrived until the moment the girls got back on their airplanes, we never stopped talking.  we hardly took time to breath.

but here's what's truly unique:  none of us had grown up together.  there were no sorority sisters or college roommates in the group.  only diana and i live in the same city -- and that's been just recent.  jen's from louisiana.  paige from tennessee.  and diana from minneapolis.  these three girls have never lived in the same city, same state or same anything.  but they connected years ago via their blogs and through the world of adoption.  diana has three darling girls from china.  paige and jen both have two cuties a piece from china.  i was sort of the new, tag along friend this weekend.  the friend who got to come because diana and i have become great pals since my move to minnesota and she wanted to introduce me to her long distance buddies.

seriously though...you would have thought these women had played hop scotch as kids...you would have been sure these girls had once shared teenage secrets, favorite sweaters, wedding days and baby showers.

but no.  that's not the case.  God did, though, knit them together through their journeys to china.  that's how they found each other -- blogging!  blogging about their adoption journeys.   it's been God and their love for children which has grown the deep seed of their friendship.  incredible. and incredibly deep.

i was the lucky one. the one who got to come along for the ride.  the one who was warmly welcomed into this terrific trio.  i got to hear their stories.  the stories of how they had gone to china...how they brought home their different children...how they were dealing with the special needs of their girls today.  amazing stories.  God stories. beautiful stories.  i was so inspired to hear from these three women.  sacrifice, perseverance and passion course through their veins.  they are normal and nice and super cute -- but, most of all, they have huge hearts for the children of china.  all three of them had biological children, but went to china ANYWAY.  they went to china and brought home kids with issues which i hadn't heard of and cannot even pronounce. but these kids are living perfectly average and incredibly beautiful lives.  and these mothers fight for their kids daily.  surgery isn't an odd word.  specialists aren't out of their realm.   they are completely normal (whatever THAT is) families who mess and bicker and text and tease.  but they are families who had some room under their roofs and even more room deep in their hearts.

even the sparrow friends...it's my pleasure to introduce you to diana, jen and paige!

diana's blog: http://1diamond1ruby1pearl.blogspot.com/
jen's blog:  http://baseballstobows.blogspot.com/
paige's blog: http://paige-foriknowtheplansihaveforyou.blogspot.com/

"I wanted to take a minute to share with you why we are adopting. We are NOT adopting as a way to add more children to our family. We are NOT adopting because this is a nice thing to do or because we are good people. Our choice to take in orphans is motivated by something much deeper... 

Deep down in our hearts and souls it has resonated in us that by His Son’s death, God has in fact freely adopted us - disobedient rebels who once didn’t even care to give Him the time of day, let alone regard His majesty and power. (Romans 5:6-11). He told us that we are loved, and proved it when He gave us the right to be called His children. How then could we possibly look the other way when he asks us to offer a teeny tiny glimmer of that same redemption to an orphan? Once you fully realize what Jesus has done for you, how kind God has been to you, how amazing His love is for you, you can’t help but respond. It changes the way you think and the way you live. We have put our faith in Jesus as our Lord and Savior, and we are urged by our King to not neglect the deep needs of the people around us – whether that is across the oceans or a few doors down in our neighborhood. We are willing to roll up our sleeves and walk into people’s messy situations and people’s messy lives. Because that’s what Jesus did for us. He intervened in our broken lives and changed our course. He extended love to us when we weren’t looking for it and didn’t deserve it. Adoption is simply our family’s response in offering just a tiny glimpse of the same grace and mercy that was extended to us. Jesus, because you DIED for me, now I will LIVE my life for you. I’m all in."  
~ beautifully said by Janel Sullivan -- another mother who adopts...

fabulous find on the way home from "up north!"

p.s. you might have noticed my font size is now a bit larger.  this was another thing we addressed this weekend.  apparently the font wasn't working so well for the over forty crowd! lol.  thanks girls.

the perfect christmas tree

if you've seen national lampoon's classic movie, christmas vacation, chances are you probably remember the scene where the family goes deep into the wilderness in search of the perfect christmas tree, right?  


and you probably remember the part where clark griswold, in his great christmas optimism, attempts to persuade his reluctant family:

"We're kicking off our fun old fashion family Christmas by heading out into the country in the old front-wheel drive sleigh to embrace the frosty majesty of the winter landscape and select that most important of Christmas symbols. "

it was a mission.  
an adventure. 
an opportunity for extreme family bonding.  
oh yes, yes it was.

Ellen: Clark, Audrey's frozen from the waist down. 
Clark: That's all part of the experience, honey.

it has always been a mcnatt tradition to get our christmas tree(s) the day after thanksgiving.  it's what we do.  it's what we've always done.  the turkey and trimmings are put away.  dishes washed.  thanks given and off we go.  the christmas tree hunt ensues and the christmas season officially begins!

and living in minnesota didn't change the plan one bit.

except that sometime on thursday, in the middle of thanksgiving dinner, winter showed up. wednesday we were in the 60s but by thursday night, we had dropped to the low 20s.  friday dawned and the sun shone, but the cold stayed strong.

we had heard about a place a little ways a way. we aren't all that far from wilderness where we are living now, so off we went, heading down a cold country road.  yukon bouncing along. kids excited in the back.  seat warmers on.  spirits bright. expectations high. we were heading out into the great outdoors for our great [indoor] christmas tree. we all felt it, christmas had begun.  even little bella kept asking me, "is it christmas yet, mama? is this christmas now, mama?"

 z's trees.  that's where we were headed.  (along with everyone else in minnesota).

we hopped out of the car.  kids running everywhere.  it was then that i noticed connor had no hat and only his thin fall-weather jacket.  where was his winter coat?  oh shoot. at the same time, i realized rick had no hat or gloves either. and emily had decided to go only with the layered look and a flimsy headband.  sarah had a good coat on, but informed me quickly she had forgotten her gloves on the kitchen table back home.  

we started to look at the lot of cut trees, that was all we had really planned to do, just browse the christmas tree selection (indoors).  but then, all of a sudden, there was this tractor with a wagon attached and people began to climb up onto it. and the cut tree picking in the indoor section was actually kind of slim and the wagon, of course, looked like an adventure.  and, well, you know how the mcnatt family feels about adventure.  before we knew it, we were all up on that wagon bed huddled together on hard plank benches.

how far were we going?  what were we really doing?  how long would this take? exactly how cold was it out there, anyway? and most importantly, was there shelter?  these were just some of the questions we never thought to ask.

the tractor began to move and the wind to whip.  and all of a sudden, i couldn't believe how cold it was.  heads bent and shoulders hunched we all wiggled closer together. christmas adventure, my freezing foot! what the heck had we gotten ourselves into?  it was then that i saw a family of four across the hay bales.  they were all decked out in incredible cold weather gear. there wasn't an item on their warm bodies which didn't boast some  serious outdoor logo.  the dad had on some kind of camo winter boots (my husband was wearing loafers), the mom and kids were wearing snow pants, they all had high tech gloves, high tech everything. they looked smug. they looked warm.  the mom was taking pictures and the kids were laughing.  and we were...well, we were freezing.

miles later, the tractor stopped.  the driver announced it was time to get off.  "grab a saw from the back," he bellowed.  "i'll be back in a little while."  the other people on the wagon grabbed their children and their saws and went running off in various directions like it was some kind of christmas competition.  i looked at emily and said, "it kind of feels like we've just landed in the hunger games."  she looked at me in disbelief, "i was just thinking that same thing, mom!"  and we laughed.  our heads still bent to the wind. we were the last family standing still and before he pulled away, we asked the driver, "um, could you tell us where the really big trees are?"  he pointed in an ambiguous direction and quickly started up his tractor. there we were,  out in the wilderness.  saw in hand.  gloves on kitchen table back home. and i'm pretty sure i could hear the wind whispering, "may the odds be ever in your favor."


"okay, kids,"  rick yelled, raising the saw in battle cry, "let's go find the perfect tree!" we started our sprint.  all seven of us searching in different directions.  we carefully scrutinized tree after tree after tree.  our fingers began to numb, our cheeks to burn and our eyes to water.  rick (in his loafers) stepped into a random hole -- this was not going well.  bella, (who was really well bundled up) was also beginning to feel the cold.  but still we hunted.  there were lots of little trees....but we had our minds set.  the mcnatts wanted something big, something grand, something fabulous. something perfect. deeper into the wilderness we went.  still, no big trees.  and still no sign of the tractor.  no, there wasn't much snow, just a light dusting, but i cannot describe to you the cut of the cold and the whip of the bitter wind. what the heck had we been thinking?

at one point, emily took pity on her dad and shared her burberry plaid scarf with him, wrapping his poor head and frozen ears in her fashionable accessory.

do you remember my post from last spring when i announced we'd be moving to minnesota?  the title of that post kept running through my mind as we ran through this christmas tree farm.  "a daring adventure or something"...yes, yes indeed...this was absolutely our something.

what seemed an hour later, we finally heard the rumble of approaching tractor.  as it crested back over the hill, we still had not settled on the perfect christmas tree.  rick (in burberry scarf) looked at the kids and said, "okay kids, that's it.  back on the tractor everyone, we're going to home depot!"  

and we did.

we climbed back into our car, cranked up the heat, turned on the seat warmers and laughed about our little adventure. we laughed all the way back to civilization and back to the neighborhood home depot.

the selection of trees was enormous.  hundreds and hundreds of gorgeous trees everywhere, with little signs and nice price tags, arranged by height and type.  emily, running through the aisles, opened her arms wide and yelled, "look mom...look at all the trees!" in a dramatic gesture of relief she began to hug a large tree and continued on, "oh how i love the great mass production of trees!" all of the kids ran into the garden center cheering and swirling. within ten minutes we had picked out two trees, some garland, winter berries and a wreath.  five super nice home depot guys attached the largest tree to the roof, laughing as they did so.  they kept calling our tree, "big boy."  i, of course, stuck my head out the window and told the men we had just moved from georgia.  they laughed even harder.  "well, get ready for winter then, because it's a coming!" one guy said with a big smile.  we pulled away and they waved and genuinely wished us well.  we waved back, happy and laughing and satisfied we had had our little family adventure and we had, indeed, found the perfect christmas tree. 

so, what's this blog post really about?  what's the take away? what's the lesson learned? are we to forgo all adventure and instead keep it simple? keep it safe?  are we never to head out to the country or climb up on a wagon without first having a plan?  

no.

you know i am not saying that -- not at all.

but i am going to suggest, sometimes you can climb yourself right into a little bit of an adventure and come back empty handed -- empty handed at first glance, that is. you may not accomplish what you set out to do, but you just may come home holding something else.  something unexpected.  maybe even something better.

a story.  some laughter. a moment.  a memory.  

and it doesn't get any more perfect than that.

the kids got their hot chocolate

and mommy got to photograph some great farms!

thanksgiving in our hearts

(from tuesday)...

i wonder if i'll ever be able to sit through one of bella's cardiology appointments and not tear up.  seriously.  i've just kind of accepted the fact that i wear waterproof - or no - mascara and bring tissues. lots of them.

i am always amazed.

i'll never forget the appointment back in atlanta, when her first pediatric cardiologist got choked up with emotion and began to quietly weep while explaining her story to a group of medical students there to observe.  from some things he had said at earlier visits, i was pretty sure this doctor wasn't a believer in Jesus.  but how could he not be?  how could he do what he did with such passion and love and brilliance, and not believe?  i wondered that so many times when we went in to visit him.  how could he look at what had been done in bella's heart,  how could he see the miracle from his trained medical eyes and not see the presence and power of God?

i'll never get that.

today we had our first appointment in minnesota.  okay, so that part was different.  different state, different hospital, different doctor, but i felt exactly the same watching the doctors study her echocardiogram results and look over her little body. (just about 30 lbs now!) tears were right there ready to bubble up and out except that bella kept things light.  she talked, almost nonstop, to the technician doing her echo, like they had been pals forever.  lying perfectly still, she watched cinderella and provided a running commentary on the film.  "those mice are getting into trouble...cinderella's dress is so beautiful...i don't like that cat with the ugly eyes...those mean girls tore cinderella's dress. why did they tear her dress, mama?..."  on an on, she chattered.  she was hooked up to that machine for over an hour and a half, but my girl never flinched.  never complained. never argued.

i was a little thrown off when i realized that the mayo clinic was a two hour drive from our house.  the clinic and this new cardiologist had come highly recommended, but i have to tell you, my practical side wondered if there wasn't a highly qualified doctor just a tad bit closer.  and as i drove passing nothing but cornfields and farms all the way from minneapolis to rochester, i continued to question my decision.  except we were going to the world renown mayo clinic - the best of the best, right?  i kept driving, wishing all the while i had at least brought my camera to snap some roadside photos of barns and silos (galore)!

once inside mayo, it didn't take long to realize it is a place as special as we'd heard. it just is.  i was so impressed with absolutely every facet.  everything felt friendly and accessible,  even the parking garage -- (is it is possible for a parking garage to feel friendly and accessible? yes, yes it is).  the medical personnel were exceptional.  the cardio technician who walked us from the waiting room to the echo lab jumped over patterns in the carpet with bella, pretending they were stones and the carpet a pit of hot lava.  by the time he had hooked her up to the machine, they were fast friends.

but even being inside the halls of this prestigious clinic wasn't exactly easy.  it's clear, really sick people come there for help. the corridors were bustling, like a busy mall on black friday.  between appointments, bella and i wandered down to the main atrium. an older man was playing the grand piano and singing well known hymns at the top of his lungs.  he had an audience of the seriously ill, the weak, the wasting.  the people leaning in and listening to him were in wheel chairs or hunched over in seats.  some held the hands of caretakers or family members.   some sat alone holding their pain and their tired with loose hands -- ready to let go soon.  at one point, bella climbed out of her stroller and began to weave through the crowd of patients.  she was sort of skipping and dancing to this man's music and i could see that she wanted to get closer to his piano.  i know she wanted to watch his fingers fly across the keys.  she is always curious.  i started after her, but let her go when i noticed the looks on the faces of these older, sicker, more somber men and women.  their mouths began to turn upward in tiny smiles...faces grew brighter...eyes followed bella around the room.  she had no idea how her dancing little body in striped leggings and purple dress was cheering up the scene.

and from there she continued to do her little four year old magic everywhere she went.  every room we went in.  every medical person we met.  every person we passed.  she had a smile or a wave or a funny comment for them all.  even the people on the various elevators.  at one point, i thought a man from one elevator ride might just get off at our floor and follow us down to cardiology.  that sounds creepy, but it wasn't.  just in the few minutes on that elevator this older gentleman clearly became enchanted with bella's joy.

okay, so this post, so far, sounds like a gloating mama.  perhaps.  but really what i am writing to say is that this tiny girl with her back pack and her bitty baby just didn't quite fit the scene.  she is the picture of health.  and yet, we all know she's got this incredibly complex heart inside her.  a heart which i have no control over.  i can't tidy it up or deck it out with a pretty bow.  i can't tell it to behave or keep it in line.  it is what it is.  and today we were heading into a series of appointments to hear more about what the future looked like for bella's little heart.   we knew that a second surgery for bella was going to be necessary.  what they were able to do in china 2 1/2 years ago, was amazing and wonderful, but another surgery was absolutely on the horizon.  we were here today to see just how close that horizon might be.  back in atlanta, our cardiologist was thinking it might be sooner than originally thought.  today we were to find out what the professionals at mayo thought.  we were going to hear what a new cardiologist had to say.

bella was born with VSD (a hole in her heart), pulmonary stenosis (a narrowing of the pulmonary valve) and transposition (her main arteries are switched/transposed). pretty big stuff for such a tiny little girl.  in july of 2009, she had major heart surgery in china, the very same month we found her file and began her adoption. needless to say, bella's heart looks different from yours and mine. she's got this crazy little tunnel right through the center, her wiring is kind of flip flopped, and, at this point, she doesn't have a pulmonary valve.  (that's what she'll need in a future surgery). to top it off,  she even has part of a cow's peracardium inside her, not many of us can boast that!  confusing isn't it?  and remember, i am the mama who struggles to find bandaids and tylenol.  how many times have i sat in different doctor's offices hearing them explain the intricacies of her heart and been overwhelmed.  each time! every time!  i am always overwhelmed by what they are saying and i am even more overwhelmed by what God has been busy doing!  it is all way beyond me...way beyond my comprehension.  but that's they way it goes with God sometimes, doesn't it? He works in ways beyond what we can even imagine or understand.

so here we were today --- an almost two hour echocardiogram and consult appointment and then off to another meeting with our new cardiologist, dr. chabalka.  all of it smooth and amazing.  all of it top notch.   but even as great as it was going, i began to feel a bit anxious as i watched the technician's ultra sound screen.  i could tell that there was an awful lot of blue and red color exploding on his black screen.  i knew from previous appointments, that was leakage. and it worried me.

our long day ended sitting in dr. cabalka's office.  she was wonderful with bella, taking the time to ask a whole lot of questions that didn't seem to be pertinent to her heart, but were evidence she wanted to know more about bella and our family.  she wanted the whole picture.  bella danced around the room, up and down from the examining table, a pigtailed ball of energy, a really wound up four year old. finally, i scooped her onto my lap and in less than two minutes she was sound asleep -- completely conked out from her big day.  the bounce and chatter and enchantment all finally quiet.  the doctor and i continued to talk.  i learned that she is not only a believer, but that she had also spent a good deal of time in china.  she has a soft spot in her own heart for chinese kids with CHD.  just last month she was in nepal with a medical mission's team working on children with heart disease.   we could have talked for hours.  she told me a lot about bella's heart, making it clear for my medically challenged brain.  the best thing she told me was that it looked like bella's next heart surgery could be pushed off until maybe even double digits.  there are no guarantees, but she really felt like bella was doing exceptionally well and all that leakage in the ultra sound was okay. she wasn't worried about it.  her heart may be functioning a little differently than most people's, but it was working well and, in its own way, it was giving her everything she needed.  dr. chalbalka said, "let's get this gal a little bigger and stronger before we attempt to go back into that amazing heart of hers."  it was a big day filled with big things, but that news was the biggest and best part of all those hours:  we have time.  maybe even more time than we originally thought walking in today.  

we drove home from mayo at the edge of dark, passing those same barns and silos now shadows against the red of western sky.  bella, half asleep in the backseat and me, driving, praying, thinking and thanking.   tomorrow we would prepare for thanksgiving -- just two days away.  preparing our food.  preparing our table.  preparing our hearts. 

but tonight, giving thanks for today.  

thanksgiving came a couple days early. 

            "i will give thanks to the LORD with my whole heart; 
 i will recount all of your wonderful deeds." 

~ psalm 9:1 

                        

here and home

i’m not sure what they’re still doing here.  it’s clearly time to move on. time to head out. by all means, time to fly south.  we’ve had our first snowfall (sort of) and several nights now with temperatures in the teens.  we’ve had flakes.  we’ve had frost.  we’ve had some really, really freezing days (at least in my southern opinion).  clearly, these canadian geese are confused.  

they should have left by now.  

but every day this week, they’ve stopped by in our backyard. when they showed up the third day, i ran down with my camera, snapping pictures and yelling, “go on now...fly south, you crazy, old birds.”  crazy, old birds or crazy, old woman?  i am pretty sure any neighbor watching me yell and run and snap pictures, would have had his own opinion that morning.

it’s not the way it’s supposed to be though.

they don’t belong here. at least not now.  not for these next many months.  
but still, they sit.  and swim.  and waddle around making a mess along the lakeshore. and i watch them from my window, high on the hill, and think, “what gives, you silly geese? what in the world are you waiting for”

but truly, i get it.  i wonder sometimes what in the world we are still doing here.  in this north country, with cold winter on its way.  the temperatures drop and the reality sets in:  we’ve moved.  we’ve had our little northern adventure and still...here we are.  sitting.  not swimming exactly.  but waddling around making our messes. our own gaggle of geese.  and a part of me thinks perhaps these canadian birds are kind of hanging around,  knowing there’s another who lives high on this hill.  another strange bird, who, on occasion, wants to fly south herself.  at least some days she does.  

we’ve all had those "somedays" -- that moment when we just want to head home, to return to what's normal and well known. my oldest daughter, did exactly that two weeks ago.  she flew back to atlanta for a church retreat and a couple of days with her dearest friends.  it was a wonderful weekend.  i have to admit though, i was a little worried she might not get back on that plane returning north to minnesota at the end of her weekend. but she did.   not without some confusion on her own part though.  just before boarding, she tweeted  (the bird theme continues) on twitter, “heading home.  but really, where is home?”  kind of philosophical for a 16 year old, wouldn’t  you say?  

but it is a question we’ve all asked ourselves with this move.  

where is home?

north. south. east. west.  

somedays we seem to be moving in all directions. literally.  figuratively. we’re torn.

when emily arrived back in minnesota that sunday night after her weekend in atlanta, i told her i had seen her twitter post.  she immediately jumped in defensively and said, “i know what you’re going to say, mom.”  and she was right.  i went on to remind her, “home is where our family is....home is where the heart is.”  and right now, we are here and this is home.  we might feel a little bit like those confused geese hanging out a tad too long. maybe we are strangely in need of some crazy, old woman to come running down the hill at us too. a woman yelling loudly.  shaking our shoulders.  getting our attention. pointing us in the right direction.  but, it doesn’t change the fact that we’ve landed. we are here.  and this is what God has given us, at least for now. how sad to call it anything else, but home.

i’ve always known, it will be what we make it.  i haven’t done a perfect job creating this new nest for my family.  Lord knows, i’ve struggled.  it's obvious to anyone watching right now, this hasn’t been easy.  i had really good intentions all along.  the first week in this house i hung pictures and put out our things.  i painted a wall and arranged bedrooms and lit candles.  i did everything a woman could do to knit together her nest.  at the end of that first week, while sitting on the front steps of the porch,  i happened to  look up and notice a nest, stuffed bird-like into the corner of gutter and eaves.  empty, but telling.  i kind of rolled my eyes at God.  oh Lord, you just won’t leave me alone, will you?  even in that first week, He was reminding me to prepare this place and help my family settle in ... to help us all learn to call it home.  even now in november, the nest is still there.  we’ve peeked in from time to time, just to be sure.  it remains empty, but continues to tell.  continues to remind.  continues to assure -- this is home.  

                               “If I discover within myself a desire which no experience in this 

world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that 

I was made for another world”  c.s. lewis

and yet even in our earthly confusion between the north and the south,  we know there’s another stopping place.  a place where we really belong.  we get that even now, in the middle of this very temporal earth.  heaven waits.  and heaven, ultimately, is home.  our true home. i’m not at all in any rush, but i have to tell you, i am certain it will be the place where i won’t have to wonder.   you may not have moved to minnesota, but surely you too, have felt exactly that.  at some point or another, you’ve told yourself, i don’t belong here...or there’s something more...or, i don’t quite fit in.  you, too,  have felt like a foreigner.  even if we are stable and content and completely sane, we still have those feelings of this isn’t forever.  this isn’t final.  i know God has put in me the desire for something beyond where i am.  for those of us that love Him, He has even promised that He goes, "to prepare a place..." (john 14:2).

the truth is, we don't know when God will choose to call us home.  just in these past couple of weeks, two different families we knew back in atlanta have unexpectedly had to say good-bye to their young daughters.  these girls in the prime of their youth, both right around the age of 20.  one with a chronic illness and one with a contracted illness, but, both, taking an unexpected  turn for the worse.  such heartbreak for these two families from our church and community. such incredible loss.  and though i cannot begin to imagine the grief, these girls are, without doubt, finally home.

i guess sometimes in our human-ness,  we can be an awful lot like silly geese with little direction and a strange sense of time.  thankfully, we are not left to waddle around on our own.  thankfully, we are not ultimately in control.  God has a plan. He has a purpose.  and, what's more, He has promised a place for us.  He knows where we are and He knows the time when we'll leave. His timing is sure and certain and always, always perfect.  and oh how He wants us to trust Him in our present and trust Him with our future.  

wherever we call home, we first, are called His.  

we are His here (wherever "here" may be)... 

and we will be His, when He someday, calls us home to heaven.

 "but our citizenship is in heaven. and we eagerly 

await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ." 

 ~ philippians 3:20