TONIGHT...

One thing I miss about being at the hospital

(well I don't know if miss is the right word, 

but you get my gist)

is rocking and holding my baby girl.

We would rock for hours.

I would sing to her, 

rub her head,

rock her to sleep, and soothe her achy body.

Those are precious memories.

Time stood still in those moments.

There was no other distractions,

other then an occasional beep of the machines,

and vitals that needed to be done.  

We were alone, given the time to just be together.

It was sacred.

It was magical. 

I didn't feel like I needed to make dinner,

do dishes,

help with this, 

or get this done.

My baby girl needed me.  

Nothing else mattered.

We were separated from the busyness of the world 

and the responsibilites of normal life.  

A special blessings at a stressful time.

We bonded.

We connected.

And I have missed that.

Now that we haven't been inpatient at the hospital for a while, 

life has come back full force.

School,

church responsibilities,

cooking, 

cleaning,

baths,

taking care of four young children, 

being pregnant,

daily responsibilities,

family functions, and such.

All good and necessary things, but distractions from our quiet time together.

Sometimes I forget to slow down and let those things go

and focus on the best things in life, my children.

I miss that time we had together.

The time I was forced to take in a way, but so grateful for as I look back.

Tonight, my sweetie needed me.

I sat in her rocking chair in her room,

she climbed up on my lap.

""b" "b", she cried.  I knew what she wanted…her blankets.

So I scooped them up.

She laid her head into my chest,

ear over my beating heart, 

stretched out over my watermelon of a belly,

and relaxed.

And I sang her songs,

and I rubbed her head,

and I soothed her achy body.

I was supposed to be making dinner,

I was supposed to be calling the doctor to change an appointment, 

I was supposed to be doing something!

But I didn't care. 

This is what I needed and wanted to do.

Her eyes got heavy,

they closed, and her breathing slowed down.

She slept in my arms.

She was so perfect.

Short, straight spiky hair, an ashy color now instead of dark brown, 

a gift from the chemo, but still so beautiful.

Red lips and long eyelashes that have grown in beautifully.

Dressed in her favorite Minnie sweater and pink pants with little bows.

So her.  

"Pretty" as she loves to say.  

And the best part is that

her door was open a crack,

and I could hear laughing coming from the living room.

Wrestling, scrambling, a couple of bangs.

Her brothers were alive and well. 

We were home.  

It wasn't the hum of machines we could hear, but the rest of our loved ones around us.

We are truly blessed. 

This is what she needed today.

This is what I needed today. 

A rock and a snuggle in our chair.

A reminder that life is as simple and sweet as we choose it to be.

Get feeling better, baby girl.  

Mommy loves you.   

"What If"

The house is quiet tonight.
The kids are asleep,
snoozing in their beds.
James fell asleep with them.
All is quiet.
All is peaceful.
I wasn't sure what to do with myself.
So...
I did the dishes,
vacuumed,
cleaned up the random toys,
and read a chapter of the book I am reading.
But inside I am anxious.
Something is nagging at me.
Could it be the upcoming birth of this little baby inside of me,
currently kicking my ribs…
all is not quiet there!
Yes, but it is more than that.
My mind is whirling.
I have been procrastinating blogging,
although thoughts, words, and
feeling that yearn to be written down keep going through my head.
I feel close to tears.
I have been afraid to let the feelings out.
It is painful,
it is scary,
it is a place I haven't wanted to go.
But since all is quiet and that is rare…
I guess this is my cue to let it go.

Evalette hasn't been feeling well.
She hasn't been her normal self.
She is crabby.
She is cranky.
She is a "little spitfire" as her daddy says.
It makes me sad.
Her appetite is close to non-existent.
She is pale.
She hasn't been sleeping well,
which is so unlike her.
She has a couple of bruises on her legs.
I know that she is walking now,
she is a toddler,
bruises are normal,
but the nagging of something more is still there.
I try not to worry.
I try not to think what if…
but lets face it, the thoughts linger in the back of my mind,
no matter how hard I try.
I can push them away for a while,
but sometimes when all is quiet,
and there is no hustle and bustle of having four little children around my legs,
like tonight,
my mind runs wild.
What if…
I don't even want to say it.
Deep breaths.
Center myself.
A few tears
And I push it away.
I thought it would be easier than this.
But letting go of my deepest fear, what if it comes back,
has been tricky.
It is smart, too smart.
It wants to hang on.
It wants to eat me up.
It wants to suffocate me.
And leave me in a hopeless place.
It is a constant battle, this fighting between us.
So tonight, I am embracing it.
I realized it is ok to feel scared.
To feel unsure.
To feel helplessness.
I can understand those feelings,
Embrace them, and then I give myself the key to letting go.
I can't let them go, until I completely accept them.
I am human for pity's sake.
But I hate to admit it.
Come on Danielle.
It is time.
Let go of the pride
and realize that strength isn't pushing it away, but accepting that it is there.
But "I am strong", isn't getting me anywhere.
It doesn't make the feelings go away.
I need help carrying the burden of "what if".
Deep breaths.
Center myself.
A few tears again.
And then more tears.
Ugh…this process isn't fun.
My little baby girl, you have been through so much.
I don't want any more pain for you.
My little family, you have all also been through so much.
I don't want any more uncertainty for you.
Tears blind my eyes,
my heart aches,
sadness creeps in…I embrace those feelings.
Just for a few minutes.
Deep breathes.
Center myself.
A few more tears of course.
Then I see her,
her smile,
the glow of her blue eyes sparkling with joy,
her dimple,
her growing hair,
her dancing to her favorite song,
her being happy.
So although she isn't herself right now,
I am reminded that my sweet Evalette is still there.
And my love is what she needs, even when she is a spitfire.
She will come back.
"What ifs" I have embraced you, now time to say goodbye.
It is time to love my baby.
To be present with her and help her while she is feeling low.
Whether you come back or not does change anything, as long as I live fully.
I won't let you rob me of that.
So I will pray for the best outcome possible.
That this is just a nasty sickness,
teething, and just part of growing up.
Little spitfire, keep fighting.
And I will fight with you.
Love you sweetheart.
Deep breaths,
center myself,
 a few last tears,
and I feel better.
No matter what, the peace always comes.
And through every trial and after every heartache,
my loving Heavenly Father gives me that.
I know just like I want what is best and most happy for my daughter,
he wants the same for me.
He knows what is necessary to get me and my family there.
He is our ever loving Father,
our rock,
our solid place when the unknown presses down.
Once again, I should be in bed…
I seem to blog when I should be sleeping.
Maybe I can rest tonight.
But maybe I will take a nice bath instead...

I love this post…the author discusses how the misconception of "God won't give you more than you can handle" phrase really isn't true and I have long thought this same thing.  God never promised us that.  But he does promise us that he will succor us, help us through, and give us rest when we come to him.  It is all about growth, trust, faith, and giving it all to him.  Tough to do sometimes.  But through our trials is where we grow and become more like him.  A necessary process done with the greatest of love.   And he never leaves us.  I know that although he blessed me with the peace of knowing that Evalette is well (in remission) and will continue to do well that he is still there when I struggle with the natural man tendencies and waver in fear of the unknown, of what if the cancer comes back.  He still loves me and helps me through my despair and brings those same feelings of peace to me once again.  He truly is always there.
I love this part of her post,


  "It never mentions anywhere in the scriptures that the Lord won’t give you more than you can handle. Yes, in 1 Corinthians 10:13 it speaks of Him giving us an escape from temptations so that it’s not too much to bear. But when it comes to pain, trials, heartache, and burdens– not once does it say it won’t be more than we can bear. Instead, it beautifully says this instead:

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me…for my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” (Matt. 11: 28-30)

The words struck my heart, as you can imagine. Christ is speaking to those of us who are carrying burdens much too heavy for our own shoulders. And in that one verse he simply states the reason why we are given more than we can handle: It’s so we can come to him. It’s so we can trust him enough to hand over our heavy, crippling burdens and let him carry the load.

You might be heavy laden right now like I was before reading and re-reading and re-reading once again this scripture that has never stuck out to me as much as it has lately.

You might be shrunken with sadness or drowning in debt. You might be overwhelmingly angry at someone at church or aching under the pressures of raising children or maybe the inability to have them. You might be dealing with a terminal disease and you still have young children. And chances are–you might need your Redeemer to find you on the path and take up that heavy cross you’re dragging. Besides, even he tells us that he’s more equipped to carry it, so why not hand it over?

I’ve come to learn–slowly but surely–why I need Him.

I suppose it’s because of pride that I always thought I could just do things on my own. I’m strong, I’d say. I’m a tough cookie. I can help others through their tribulations while carrying mine all by myself. Well…wasn’t I wrong.

I didn’t really know what needing him meant until I had no other choice. I didn’t know what it meant until I wrapped my arms around my middle so I wouldn’t fall apart–or the time I choked on tears and yelled toward Heaven. Or the times when I was utterly alone, and the silence was too much to bear. Those are the times that taught me he’s not just a want or a convenient symbol of love or a reason to do good deeds.

No, he’s the very air we breathe.

And he’s the only one who can make it bearable when life is simply anything but."

http://lemmonythings.com/2014/01/05/god-will-give-you-more-than-you-can-handle-i-guarantee-it/

And I couldn't have said it any better.
I pray that all of you in what ever trial you are in, can know and feel him.
We all need him.
And he is there for us.
Love to you all.
Thanks for listening to my trials.
And may we all remember
"He's the very air we breathe,
And he is the only one who can make it bearable when life is simply, but."

REFLECTIONS

I really should be in bed but…
for days this post has wondered through my head.
Begging to be written,
asking to be heard.
So before this last day of 2013 passes, I want it to be written.

As I think about 2013- so much comes to mind.
LIGHT,
LAUGHTER,
SADNESS,
CONFUSION,
CANCER,
DOCTORS,
HOSPITALS,
MEDS,
NURSES,
FAMILY,
FRIENDS,
PEACE,
MIRACLES,
BABY SURPRISE,
LOVE,
HAPPINESS,
REMISSION,
LIFE,
and GRATITUDE.
It was one busy year.
It started out with a year full of our dreams…
the dreams we thought would get us where we needed to go,
but GOD had different plans.
James was taking a few classes before entering his PH-D program,
I was in night school working toward my massage therapy degree
and being a full-time mom,
Tyrell was in school,
Jarom in preschool,
and my two youngest were my shadows at home.
I wasn't prepared for March 2013.
CANCER.
MY BABY GIRL.
The feelings of that day- March 27th will forever be etched in my memory.
It was so painful, I tried not to feel.
But I remember crying and crying and crying.
The tears wouldn't stop.
I couldn't do anything for my baby.
I felt so alone.
A vicious monster of a disease had snuck up on us,
taken over my daughter's precious, beautiful, innocent body, and
was attacking and winning.
How had my life suddenly changed so drastically?
Everything was so different with one simple word- CANCER.
So our life changed.
I quit school.
I lived at the hospital with Evalette for the majority of 8 months, with small breaks here and there.
Our beloved boys were taken care of by loving aunts and grandma, who watched over them, loved them, took them to school, helped them understand, and know that they were loved always.
Daddy worked and still went to school.
He took care of the boys at night.
Then in July, we found out a precious baby would be arriving next February.
Another surprise, but one I could handle.
Certainly this was not the 2013 year I had planned.
But from our crazy year of 2013, I learned so much that I would never change what happened.
Although I would never of asked for my baby girl to have cancer, to have to endure so much pain, sickness, and confusion; I know now that I would not change it.
CANCER was a blessing, I never thought I'd understand.
But yet here we are-
happy, whole, together, and blessed.
I am filled with love, understanding, and thankfulness.
After I got home in September, after Evalette's last inpatient stay, our life was different.
More slow paced, more focused on Christ and God, more focused on the simple things of life.
I decided to homeschool.
Something I never thought I would do.
What a blessing for our family it has been.
The boys get along better,
we aren't in the car all day running from here to there,
we learn together,
I teach my children and they teach me.
We learn of God every hour, in every study, and in everything around us.
We have tuned our the things of the world as best as we can- not as much movies or TV,
less time on the WII and other electronics, less time away from each other, and more focus on time together.
Gratitude is a daily thing in our prayers, our words, and actions.
The boys never go a day without thanking God or someone for the things they do or give us.
Life has new meaning.
We want to live better,
we want to be better,
we want to help more,
we want to be more aware of others around us.
We have grown from 2013.
Not from the 2013 I had planned, but from the 2013 God had prepared for us.
2013 was certainly a year of growth, new experiences, trials to overcome, and refining of our family.
And more tears then I have ever cried.
And now looking back, I know...
God never left us.
He wanted to give us the blessing of understanding how to completely trust in him.
He wanted to bless my family with more love, compassion, understanding, and empathy for others.
He wanted to show us that he loves us more than we could possibly imagine.
He wanted our prayers of growth and submission to his will to be heard (just in ways I didn't ever imagine).
He wanted us to know that miracles still do happen.
He wanted us to know that he is over all.
He wanted us to know truly how blessed we are.
And CANCER was our gift, our blessing, our experience from HIM.
Through the tears, through the pain, through the confusion, he wept with us, but he knew what he was giving us in the end and what we are still learning.
So at this end of 2013, I thank him.
Although my heart still aches for all we went through and are still experiencing,
and although I pray that my daughter heals from the traumatic events that have happened at this tender age in her life,
I think I understand.
I think I know what God is trying to teach me;
To let go.
To let him in, completely.
I don't néed to plan it all out.
If I really want to do his will, to be like him, and to return to him someday, then I will let him take charge.
So this year, I am making no plans.
Well, a few.
We will welcome the 7th member of family into the world.
It will be a year of happiness, no matter what.
James will continue with school as long was that is what feels right.
We will spend as much time together as we can as a family.
And we will live fully;
by simplifying our life and living in the present as best we can.
Sometimes I run away with my dreams of the future (not that you can't dream),
but living presently is what brings happiness and joy.
And allows those wonderful dreams to happen since you are more present and will guided to act in the ways that will bring about what you truly desire.  You are ready to hear and see.  Thus you can act in ways that your dreams can be accomplished.
And I have some specific goals spiritually for our family, but
anyway, the rest of 2014 is up to God.
He is in charge.
And he truly knows best.
Happy 2014 everyone.
It will be a great year!
Now I really should be off to bed,
BUT I think I will make a nice cup of hot chocolate and soak in the bath…
it has been a long year!

HAPPY NEW YEAR from the most wonderful little PRINCESS WARRIOR.
She truly is my inspiration.
She teaches me about love, God, and life everyday.
Love you Evalette!























































































And from all my wonderful children.
What joys they are!

***I know that I write a lot about God, his love, the miracles we have had, and what we have learned, but when Evalette's life was spared, I knew I was to write about the power of God and his hand in our life.  It is part of Evalette's mission here on earth to remind those who will listen that God still a God of miracles.  That he loves us.  I am her voice and his.  Sorry it is redundant.  But I just write what comes. More than anything it brings healing to me. Love you all!