Things that have made me happy this week

Today, I had a mini-meltdown. John worked all week. Today, he was supposed to get off sometime around lunchtime, and we would have the rest of the day as a family. John called me around 9am. He had gotten a lot of sleep overnight and his rounds (of patients) this morning went well. He was headed home in a bit. Our plan was to go to the local aquarium. I jumped in the shower, Joanie fed the boys. We were really excited.

But then JB walked in the door and shook his head. A page on the way home. One of his patients was in labor. He had to eat some breakfast and go back into work. Are you serious!? He had worked ALL week and this was his one day off.

In the midst of my pity party, I emailed a friend, cried to Joni, and pouted a bit. But then I stopped and thought of all the things this week that made me happy. There were a lot. And in the end, while we didn't get to go to the aquarium, John was home at a decent time, and we've been able to spend some time together today anyway.

So, I made a list. A list of things that made me happy this week. Here they are:

Joni's apple pie. Okay. Here's the truth. I think I need to stop saying, "I'm not really that into pie." I say that all the time because, truthfully, well, unless it is chocolate pie, I just don't find myself very intrigued. However, you can't really say that you really aren't that into pie anymore when you think about the pie burning a hole in your fridge throughout the entire day ... just dreaming about the opportunity to finally sit down and have a piece once your boys go to bed. Can you? No. I didn't think so. But that's what I've done this whole week. All day I dream. I wait. I covet. I covet pie. I covet Joni's pie. Or, is it coveting if the pie is in your fridge even though it belongs to Joni and I am at her mercy to share it with me? Well, I don't know. But I do know that I thought about her pie this whole week until we finished the pie two nights ago. Seriously. This pie. To die for. I'm not really exaggerating. It really is that good. Love it.

Movies. I watched 27 Dresses and The Proposal with Joni this week after the boys went to bed. I really enjoyed both of them. I really like movies that don't require me to say, "Hey JB. Can you pause it so you can please explain to me what the heck is going on?" Then I listen as he details some huge espionage plot that caused a murder and an investigation that flashed back twenty years into the future. Does anyone else out there feel my pain on this? Three cheers for nice little romantic comedies that require little thinking while leaving you with a warm, fuzzy feeling upon completion.

Faithful friends. As Joni has helped me this week -- changing diapers, giving baths, going for walks, feeding boys, wiping snotty noses, kissing slobbery dogs -- you get the picture, I can't help but see how God, in his goodness, provides us with just what we need when exactly we need it. Here I am living hundreds of miles away from family. Here I am, suddenly, the mother of two little boys (who are now evoking comments like, "Look Mommy! It's twins!" from little kids in the grocery store), with a husband in residency, and a dog that requires exercise every well, 8-12 minutes or so. And here the Lord sees fit to bless me with a mother and father who come in for Christmas and help me take care of two very little sick boys. And a friend, like Joni, who is willing to drive by herself and give up time with her own husband and daughter and friends to relieve some of the stress of my husband's 80 hour work week. I am thankful for His faithfulness and the faithfulness of good friends.

Little boys. This week I got to see so many wonderful things. I got to see my little I-pod gush over the sight of a real, live, in-the-flesh "shoo-shoo" train. It truly made my heart melt. I experienced, for one of the first times, a little boy crying, begging "Mommy" to "peas" let him "on shoo-shoo" again. And I watched as my husband shook his head and explained to him (and me) that one ride was adequate despite the fact that I knew we could afford the extra $3 that just one more ride would cost. I laughed out loud at little Elijah boy's internal debates with himself over the word "no" and his extreme desire to touch the outlet, open the drawers, pull on the blinds, and stand up in the tub. I could see his mind weighing "no-no Elijah" with "Oh goodness it would be fun to do it anyway." And I was proud when, at least sometimes, the "no-no Elijah" won out. I also got to enjoy more hugs and drool (I'm convinced Elijah has no idea what swallowing is) than one mother should be privy to in one week's time. And I thanked the Lord for giving me the opportunity to be the mother of two exhausting and fantastic little boys. I truly feel so honored to be able to raise both of them. And Isaac. I did not birth him. But someone gave me the chance to help him become the man God wants him to be. How amazing an offer that was. And how lucky I am that it was offered to me.

Friends I have never met. How fun, and I mean, really, how fun it has been to "meet" all the anonymous people who read my blog through the emails I have received in response to my desire to make the blog private. A gal from South Africa who speaks Dutch and attempted to write me in her broken English and explain to me why she enjoyed reading. (Bit of trivia. Did you know Joni was born in South Africa and that her first language was Dutch?) Another new friend who has started falling in love with the idea of children by watching my boys grow up. People still waiting for children. Women who no longer are able to have children. Those who have adopted, are adopted, wanting to adopt. Friends of friends of friends who dropped in well before Isaac came into the picture. People who don't remember how they found my blog but read everyday. People who have been with me for years. Some of these people I once knew well. Some were athletes I coached once upon a time. Some were students I lectured once upon a time. Teachers I worked with. People I went to school with. That sort of thing. But many of you are people I have never met. And yet you have been a part of my journey. A part of our journey. A part of the journey of two high school sweethearts and their spotted puppy and their little boys. Thank you for taking the time to introduce yourselves to me. There are many more than 100 of you. And don't worry. I plan to make sure you can all continue on this journey with me.

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Romans 8:28 says: "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." I have learned through the pain of infertility, that God is good. Sometimes, when life is dealing you a cruddy hand, remember that He doesn't promise everything will be good. But He promises that everything that occurs, even the non-good stuff, will work toward good.

This became real to me this week as I was talking with Joni. More than thirty years ago, she and her husband Roy lived next door to my parents. They became great friends with my Dad and Mom. They wanted children just like JB and me. But children did not come easy to them either.

When they had their son Brant in 1982, Joni taught me, a then eleven year old little girl, how to take care of Brant. It was my first real job. I loved him and learned how to care for someone through Brant. I stayed the night at their home many times helping take care of Brant and hanging out with Joni. Then, in 1989, they lost their son Brant. Cruddy times. My first real experience with death.

Then, in 1990, they adopted Bri. Their home became my second home. I spent weekends there and was included in their family vacations and adventures and fell in love with a little girl named Bri who became like a sister to me.

That same Bri who God brought into the lives of Roy and Joni amidst pain, found herself pregnant. Something she didn't plan. And yet through that ... our Isaac. Pain. Cruddy times.

But if Joni hadn't gone through her pain, then she wouldn't have had Bri. And if Bri hadn't have had her pain, then she wouldn't have had Isaac. If we wouldn't have dealt with five years of yearning for a child, Bri wouldn't have picked us. And we wouldn't have Isaac. And, if we had had a baby when we wanted, then we wouldn't have had Elijah. Pain. Lots of pain. Pain that began decades ago brought us the little boys we always dreamed of.

God is good. Things happen that are bad. But remember, He sees the whole picture. My Mom compared it to being in a huge crowd of people. If you are short, you can't see what is coming. You are forced to just look ahead and continue moving forward. But if you are my Dad, you can see over the top. You know the door is coming. You can see the ending. When I was little and would walk with my Dad in a crowd (all 6'8" of him), I could rest easy knowing that he would take me to the door. People may step on my feet and push me around, but if I hold onto him, I will get to the door. And the door is good. The door is worth the pushing and the pain.

Hang onto Him. Whatever your pain, take a moment to jot your own list of things that made you happy this week. There are things even if they seem trivial and small -- like movies and emails from strangers. And trust that He is in those little things.

And He is taking you to the door.