Our Family's 2024: The First 5 Months in Review

2024 is going by quickly. So much has happened in a few short months. Let me tell you.

Pics taken on Christmas Day of 2023. In these photos, I didn’t know it yet, but I was in the early stages of pregnancy. My oldest daughter, who was/is only 3yrs old at the time, told me a few days before taking this picture that I was pregnant. I thought she was observing the pudge in my stomach. I kindly let her know that I wasn’t. She looked at me after I explained to her in detail as to why I might look pregnant after birthing four babies but was assuredly not haha. She listened and then said with more emphasis, “You’re pregnant, Mama,” before running off to play. Welp, she was right! I just didn’t know it yet.

Me with my GORGEOUS sister-in-loves. We went to a nice gala January 1st to bring in the new year. The food was amazing. The vibe and music was on par with what I like. And my husband and I were able to be back home at a decent hour that didn’t interfere with my bedtime haha.

This past February, my husband and I celebrated our 9 year marriage anniversary! My mama called and came over to watch the kids while my husband and I grabbed some lunch. Still in my first trimester, I felt quite sick in this photo. I actually ended up grabbing a box of cheese pizza after we left the restaurant to help my stomach settle. That pizza did the trick! Funny how pregnancy impacts the body in different ways. It was a sweet day.

In late February 2024- a polar vortex hit the south. It brought frigid temperatures, snow, and ice. We stayed in the house for a week. We were so thankful that our power didn’t go out and that we were able to fix our heat before the storm hit. As you can tell, our kiddos had a BLAST during that week.

Taking my oldest daughter to her ballet class. At this point in my pregnancy, I was beginning to “show” a little bit more. My daughter enjoys making silly faces.

My husband had a speaking engagement in Nashville. We decided to make it a family trip and take the kids. Months later and our kids still request to go back to “that hotel with the waffles.” Such a sweet memory. In this photo, they had just finished their meals and were anticipating eating their fudge brownie and ice cream (highly recommend this vegan restaurant called “Graze” in Nashville).

We didn’t see this one coming. We live in a townhome and our neighbor had a leak. Well our neighbors were out of town and the leak drifted into our home overnight. We had to get all of our floorboards removed throughout our entire downstairs immediately. For those who understand the nuances of dealing with home insurance, you know that it’s not always a quick process. Thankfully, we worked with an efficient agent. But even still, we were out of our home for about 5 weeks. It was a VERY challenging time. We were staying with my parents at first until one of the kiddos got a fever. Then we switched to a hotel and then the stomach flu swept through myself and all of the kiddos. Taking care of kiddos, in a hotel, pregnant, while cleaning up things coming out of both ends for multiple kids including oneself—I wish upon no one. More challenges came along the way during those 5 weeks, and I could talk at length on those, but I must pause to say that so many blessings came from the leak. One being that we got new floors! Our new floors are simply stunning. We chose a lighter color and the color has made our home feel more open and lively. Because we had to move everything out, I was forced to reorganize the pantry and all of our cabinetry—perfect timing before the baby comes in August. Going through that process made/makes me so thankful that my husband and I have a beautiful home to raise our children in. SUPER GRATEFUL. Many families have temporary residences, live in and out of hotel rooms, or cars—with small children. Honey, you won’t catch me complaining!!!!

Easter Sunday with Family! I was definitely feeling tired in this photo. We were still out of our home at this point due to the leak. I thank God for my mama who HELPED A TON in making sure all of the kiddos had their outfits ready for Easter.

MOVING IN DAY! Look at those gorgeous floors!!

The day after we moved back into our home, we celebrated both our sons’ birthdays. My oldest son had been talking about his birthday for months and we wanted to make sure he still felt celebrated in the midst of so much we had going on. THe Lord is so faithful. With the little preparation I could do, the birthday party turned out better than if I had months to plan. Here’s a pic of my husband and I after the party.

My youngest son, who was turning one, also received his first haircut prior to his birthday party. See pic below.

Us celebrating Mother’s Day. For those who made it this far in the blog post, thanks for reading! I look forward to posting more updates in the months to come.

Always Remember: God is Faithful.

That day I threw out sourdough that took 24+ hours worth of prep work to make. Here's what I learned: Don't manufacture "glory."

It had been a long day.

A previous night doing a few breastfeeding sessions with our teething 11-month-old.

A day of making meals, sweeping crumbs, completing (well, mostly completely) homeschool lessons with my older kids.

Answering endless questions from different kiddos, in no certain order.

Changing diapers, and giving countless redirectives to manage sibling arguments.

While my husband completed bedtime routines upstairs, I snuck downstairs to the kitchen to prep for the next day.

My feet throbbed, reminding this pregnant mama to wind it down sooner rather than later.

But I had one last task on hand to complete: prepping my sourdough to make sandwich loaves in the morning.

I Facetimed my sister to distract me from my own exhaustion, and then I heated the tea kettle to prepare some warm water to pour over my fed starter.

My sis and I kept each other company on the phone with little conversation and 30 minutes later, plastic wrap in hand, I wrapped up my bowl to allow my dough to rise overnight.

By mid-morning the next day, my dough had doubled in size. I wiped down our counters and became excited at the thought of kneading my fermented dough.

Because most of my days were filled with such unpredictability (i.e. meltdowns, spills, accidents, sickness), I found solace when baking bread.

After a few months of baking, I felt a level of control. I discovered that I could get the results that I intended, for the most part. And oh how I loved the results!

I loved the smells that filled our home. I loved hearing my son say on cue, “Mama, this is the best bread ever.” I loved watching my daughter chew and ask for more. It brought a sense of joy that felt… predictable.

I pulled out my two glass containers to set my dough in for its final rise before baking. But first, I needed to knead the dough.

I scraped some dough onto my counter and saw my precious 2-year-old daughter peer over the counter’s ledge to get a better peek. She then used a chair to climb onto the counter to sit in full view of what I was doing. Her eyes danced with innocent curiosity while her body fidgeted from side to side, excited to see what I would do next.

It was true. I was actively living out a scene from a daydream that I probably had as a little girl: being married, having children, and witnessing them stoop themselves up on a kitchen counter to watch their mama knead bread.

I smiled.

But as I kneaded my dough, I noticed something.

A small yellow stream began trickling its way across our countertop and inching closer to the very dough I was kneading.

For one millisecond, I paused….confused.

And then it clicked.

I had previously taken off my 2 year old’s diaper and forgot to put another one on her underneath her pants.

That stream.

That yellow stream.

Dare I say it?

It was….urine.

Nah, let me just say it. PEE!

I screamed in shock.

My daughter looked up in surprise and playfulness. She grinned, happy to see her mama scream like a little girl… like she did so often.

I grabbed her off the counter and placed her feet on the floor.

“Oh baby, we gotta go put your diaper on you first,” I said gently… surprising myself with my own level of calm.

She kept laughing at my previous shriek in the kitchen. She found it so funny.

When I returned to our kitchen counter, that yellow stream had already made its way to the dough.

My dough.

My dough that had taken over 24 hours of prep work. You know that dough that was supposed to now have filled my home with sweet aromas. The dough that would’ve given me the validation that I had done at least one thing right all day amid chaos. Yeah, that dough.

I scooped up the dough, placed it back into the glass bowl, and then did what any rational level-headed mother would do.

I sent a SOS text to my sisters and mama, inviting them to cry with me. They sent back laughing emojis, but that’s beside the point. I called my husband who reasonably assured me that there was no possibility of reviving dough with pee in it.

The day went on and the dough continued to sit on the counter in its glass container. For whatever reason, I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out. Every time I tried, I couldn’t do it.

Why? Was it because the preparation process involved such hard work and sacrifice on my behalf? No. I knew there was something deeper at play.

I couldn’t throw it out, because…well, I looked forward to seeing, feeling, tasting, and basking in my ONE “supposedly” predictable plan coming to fruition. The one thing I thought I could control. The one thing I could tangibly point to and glorify in.

The bread continued to sit on the counter.

By nightfall, I reluctantly tossed the dough into the trash in one quick succession—a moment I had dreaded all day. It became a physical symbol of what my actions often felt like daily...taking one step forward and three steps back (seemingly).

I headed to my room and laid across my bed, thinking about many of the day’s events. I couldn’t shake why throwing my dough out was so hard. Why I wanted to cry (outside of the normal pregnancy hormones.)

And then I felt the Holy Spirit comforting me in the stillness.

He showed me how He received glory that day.

It didn’t come by way of me being able to bake a perfect loaf of bread. It didn’t come by way of me filling my home with a sweet aroma. It didn’t come by way of me seeing the intended fruit of my hands.

The Lord was glorified by the way I gently treated my daughter when that pee touched my dough. By the way I laughed with her when I saw her laughing at me. By the way I continued to welcome her presence in the kitchen even though I felt my entire work was destroyed.

I thought the highlight of my day was going to be baking two perfect loaves of bread and feeling proud.

I never thought that the Lord’s highlight reel would include the way I treated my daughter when my plans were altered.

Why do I share this?

God may be receiving the utmost glory within your life in the midst of you feeling like you’re failing at everything.

The angels may be rejoicing, when you can’t grasp any of your intended accomplishments.

Maybe the goal isn’t physical results, but a Galatians 5 Holy Spirit-bred fruit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

Maybe stop judging your success by the measure of your own standards of success. And stop and assess what God deems to be successful.

Are you bearing eternal fruit that will last through the fire on the Final day? Do you see the fruits of the Spirit being bred in your life?

I know. Maybe your marriage doesn’t look great. Maybe y’all still aren’t in alignment in certain areas of your life…and it’s been years.

But in the midst of what you deem a lack of accomplishment, do you find yourself being more patient with your spouse? Do you find yourself not using those usual demeaning words you’d normally use in an argument? Do you find yourself walking away a little bit more quickly before an argument blows up?

Maybe your child is still acting rebellious. But do you find yourself praying more? Seeking God’s wisdom more diligently? Laying your child before the Lord a little more night after night?

Maybe you still haven’t received a bump in pay at your job yet. But do you find yourself embracing more of a James 1 disposition? Find yourself stewarding the resources the Lord has given you with more wisdom? Find yourself making a business plan that could only be birthed out of current personal frustration?

Maybe you are seeing how generational sins have wrecked your family line, and thereby family members. But are you learning more about how to break generational curses? Are you learning more about your own authority in Christ? Do you find yourself seeking to live a more consecrated life due to seeing the consequences of sin in the lives of those around you?

Let me say it again.

God may be receiving the utmost glory in the midst of you feeling like your life is crumbling or when you feel like you’re failing at everything. The angels may be rejoicing, when you can’t grasp any of your intended accomplishments. Maybe the goal isn’t physical results, but a Galatians 5 Holy Spirit-bred fruit.

Can I be honest with you?

Weeks after that night, I kept going back to the Lord in conversation with questions. I began randomly thinking about ways I thought God would work things out in me and my husband’s life to receive glory. Ways I reasoned God would move so that others would see and throw their hands up and say, “Only God can do something like that!!” I’d daydream of the miracles the Lord could perform in my husband’s and I’s life to make His Name great. In the midst of me thinking, daydreaming, wondering, asking '“why many of my daydreams have not been my lived reality”…the Lord reminded me of many testimonies from the Bible.

Perhaps, I’m in good company.

I imagine Abraham thought similarly.

TO make a great nation through Abraham’s seed, I imagine Abraham reasoned that the Lord would surely bless Abraham with multiple children immediately. Instead, the Lord chose to make a great nation from only one child birthed by Abraham’s wife, Sarah, in Abraham’s old old age.

To show neighboring nations that Israel was mighty and strong, I imagine Gideon probably thought that surely the Lord would raise up mighty men in great number to fight off the 132,000 Midianite men gathered to defeat Israel under Gideon’s leadership. Instead, the Lord told Gideon to only gather 300 men.

The Lord didn’t plan on receiving glory through Israel’s superb fighting skills. He didn’t plan to receive glory through Gideon thinking of a stellar battle plan. Gideon was a farmer, y’all. Instead, the Lord planned to receive glory by His own divine methods: utterly confusing the Midianites and having them defeat themselves.

I imagine Jacob had other plans when He wrestled with the angel of the Lord until the Lord blessed him. The Lord blessed Him all right. And Jacob walked with a limp for the rest of his life: a physical representation of the Lord’s desire for Jacob to live a life of complete dependence on Him.

I could go on.

But I’ll skip to the ultimate example.

We all would’ve thought that the King of all Kings would appear in the flesh, riding on a white horse, prepared for battle, with all His riches in full display for all to see.

Instead, God the Father received glory by sending His Son to be born in a stable with animals, in a town in which many would say “no good can come from,” in a form by which “he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. (Isaiah 53: 2-3)” Not only that, but He died a lowly death—on a cross.

Who would’ve thought? Who would’ve thought…this would be the means to glory?

God did.

As a follower of Christ, why make your life the exception?

Don’t manufacture glory in your life. Let the Lord receive it all…however He so desires.

I’m not quite certain how pee touching my sourdough led to these thoughts…but they did.

No matter how my day goes or doesn’t go, may the Lord receive glory from it—is what I’m learning.

So beloved, stop trying to manufacture glory through a certain result. Be the salt and the light of the world and thereby glorify your Father in heaven (Matthew 5:16) through eternal fruit (Galatain 5:22-23 ). Let the results work out for themselves.

We eventually got there hahaha :). My sweet little girl helping her mama in the kitchen.

4 Months Postpartum_ I'm Back After Having Child #4

It’s been a while.

How are you? I seriously would love to know, so feel free to reply in the comments.

I often get the question, “How are you?” and I seem to have trouble coming up with an answer.

I tend to get the question when I’m out with close friends and family and I catch them glance to take in the busyness of our four kiddos in our periphery.

I don’t really know what to say. Each hour, really, has its own theme these days. Sometimes one hour is seamless, and the next… utter chaos. It’s become my normal. I don’t tend to think too much of it at this point.

Sometimes I handle things well. Sometimes, I smile and can’t believe this is the life that God has chosen to bless my husband and me with. And sometimes I pray, “Lord Jesus, make my mansion on the new Earth situated by beautiful waters, with a nice view, and a thriving garden to steward.”

In a loss for words, I pause and simply say, “Good,” not fully knowing what else to say to encapsulate these last four months (it’s been four months since the birth of our youngest son, Eli.)

I’d be here all day describing all the things I’m learning in this season. So… can I just share what I wanna share?! As in, can I share nothing super deep, insightful, or thought-provoking?

1) My family and I joined a new gym and I’ve been swimming y’all! It’s been a literal dream. I learned how to swim a few years ago through my then-neighbor, Ms. Mary, and since then, swimming has been my outlet for praying, working out, and releasing pent-up stress. This new gym that I joined has spa-like features. I swim, go to the steam room, shower, and take my time oiling my body and getting dressed for the day without rushing. It’s absolutely delightful.

It’s the one part of my day where I can actually feel my thoughts slow down and match my breathing…where I can release to God everything I’m thinking and feeling… and where I can escape from all of the noise that comes throughout the day.

2) I treat myself to a really good meal from a restaurant weekly and let me tell you, these dishes are so good. Let me recommend the vegetable plate from Abyssinia and the kale Caesar salad from City Silo. These are both my thing right now haha.

3) Do you have Netflix? When the kiddos went to sleep in the evening, I’d enjoy watching The Break Point and Quarterback. For whatever reason, I love observing how individuals face high-pressure situations and the mindsets they’re forced to obtain to endure. It’s fascinating to me.

4) Lastly, if you know me, you know that I appreciate really good storytelling. Couple that with a testimony of what God has done in someone’s life, and I’m hooked. At night, whenever I have to clean up our downstairs to prep for the next day (which is every day lol!), I plug in my headphones and listen to Delafe testimonies. If you haven’t listened to one, you must! So many powerful testimonies from individuals from all walks of life.

Welp, that’s all for now. My little one is about to wake up from a nap.

Til next time,

Pondered Thought

"I couldn't have imagined a smoother labor and delivery": Positive HomeBirth Story. Baby #4

Sunday, March 12th, 2023.

~39 weeks pregnant

• I woke up feeling exceptionally tired. Tired isn’t the word. I felt exhausted. We ended up streaming church that day, while I tried to lay on the couch as much as I could. For the remainder of the week, I woke up closer to 8AM, barely able to open my eyes. If I could, I would have easily remained in the bed until 11 AM…but you know, I had three other little ones to care for. Apart from my first trimester, I hadn’t felt this level of exhaustion throughout the pregnancy. But the level of tiredness I felt did feel reminiscent to the end of my first pregnancy with my firstborn son. Considering that my last two pregnancies were girls, it made me more convinced that I was carrying a boy this time around.

Wednesday-Thursday March 15th-16th, 2023.

• Mild cramping and lower back pains began. At this point, I could only manage to get through our usual morning homeschool activities. But after lunch, I let the kids independently play with one another while I laid on the couch until my husband came home. I hadn’t experienced period-like cramps with my other pregnancies and the level exhaustion seemed to have been increasing at this point.

Friday, March 17th, 2023

• I had a sudden burst of energy. My mother came over to watch the kiddos while I went out and bought a few plants for the house. I did a few house projects and felt oh-so-satisfied.

Saturday, March 18th, 2023.

• Stronger contractions began anytime I moved around the house. Most noticeably, I began to become easily irritated by the smallest of things. I was very snappy towards my husband, and I didn’t want my kids to touch me. I simply felt annoyed allllllll day and didn’t know why. The contractions weren’t consistent, nor were they very strong, but something was bothering me.

• That night, I went to bed early and slept with a peanut ball between my legs in order to create more room in my pelvic area for the baby to move on down. At this point, I felt very much ready for our baby to be born.

Sunday, March 19th, 2023

12:00 AM

• I woke up out of my sleep due to a very intense contraction. I grabbed my laptop and began watching Abbott Elementary, Season 1 Episode 1. Months prior, I made a list of shows to watch during intense contractions and postpartum nighttime feedings. Well, the contraction I experienced at 12:00AM constituted itself as an “intense” contraction, and so the episode commenced.

• For the next hour, the contractions came and went. They were intense but not super consistent. I used the restroom (i.e. diarrhea) and saw that I had lost my mucus plug. At this point, I reasoned that if I were to go into the labor within the next few hours, I wanted our kitchen and living room to be clean. We planned on having a home birth and the downstairs was a mess. I grabbed my robe and waddled downstairs, where I found my husband asleep on the couch. I began washing the dishes and woke him up to take out the trash and to help me tidy up the living room. My husband had been through enough births to know that when I was operating in a certain “mode,” he didn’t ask questions. He just obliged to any of my “absurd” demands. By 1:30 AM, everything looked to my satisfaction. I texted my midwife and doula to let them know that I had lost my mucus plug and was having more intense contractions-but nothing unbearable. I let them know that I planned on going back to sleep and would update them in a few hours.

5:30 AM

• I woke up again due to contractions and couldn’t lay back down. I texted my midwife and doula again. I knew that these contractions weren’t super intense and so I didn’t tell them to come over just yet.

6:30 AM

• Contractions ceased completely.

• All 3 kiddos woke up.

7:30 AM

• My two oldest got up and got dressed, while my husband made their breakfast. They were excited to go to church, but I knew that I needed to stay home with my husband nearby. I texted my parents to see if my two oldest kiddos could go to church with them. My husband then dropped our oldest two kiddos off with my parents while I stayed home with our one-year-old.

• At this point, I was having contractions- but again, nothing unbearable.

12:00 PM

• I laid back down and began watching Abbot Elementary. Somewhere in the middle of the episode, I fell asleep with the peanut ball in between my legs.

1:00 PM

• I woke up due to a VERY intense contraction. I went to the restroom and straddled my legs around the toilet in reverse to open up my pelvic area more. The contractions began to come full throttle.

1:40 PM

• Within a group chat with my doula, husband, and midwife, I texted my doula and asked her to come over.

• My midwife called me and said that she was on her way. I couldn’t talk through my contractions anymore.

2:15 PM

• My midwife and doula arrived. My midwife checked me and I was 7-9cm dilated. FYI: You only need to be 10cm dilated to begin pushing. My midwife began setting up her equipment and informed her assistants to head on over. My doula and I began to do abdominal lift and tucks during the contractions to help the baby engage the pelvis. After our fourth or so abdominal lift and tuck, I felt lots of pressure in my pelvis and wanted to move downstairs (away from our carpeted floor) in case I was ready to begin pushing.

3:00 PM

• After moving through several contractions downstairs, I moved to our 1/2 bathroom to straddle my legs around the toilet. My midwife reminded me that I typically made the most progress in this position. Sure enough, my water broke minutes later. My baby was moving on down. I recall my midwife saying, “Jessica, do you need to push? I need you to get up.” I wailed back, “I CAN’T. I don’t want to get up!” With this being the third pregnancy that my midwife has overseen, I’ve learned when my midwife is being firm, despite her very very gentle approach. “Jessica, I need you to get up for the safety of the baby.” I got up and went back to the living room for her to check me. I recall needing her reassurance that my contractions were not in vain. “The baby is going down right?” I asked. My midwife retorted, “This baby can’t go any further down,” she looked up with a smile. Even still, I didn’t believe her. I wanted everything to be over. I felt so tired.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

My mom stopped by and tried to stay in the background. My doula asked if it would be good if my mama could hug me for a second. My mom was elated to do so. She gave me a quick hug and kiss before leaving.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

This was me sitting on our toilet in our 1/2 bathroom while going through more intense contractions. At one point, my water broke in this position. How convenient for clean up haha.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Our one-year-old daughter was waiting to be picked up by my husband’s parents while I was in labor. Isn’t she the cutest?!

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Listening to my Christian Hypnobirthing App truly helped me breathe through the contractions. I love their visualizations track.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

My husband peeping his head over to see me, while I labored in our 1/2 bathroom. He was simultaneously looking after our one-year-old as well.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Smiling in between contractions. When you’re not contracting, life feels so normal lol.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

I was minutes away from pushing at this point. My midwife knelt down beside me and whispered the most beautiful prayer over me. She prayed for my strength.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

My doula supporting me through some very intense contractions.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

I knew I could begin pushing but I felt so tired. I asked my midwife if I could just lay down for a second to rest up. She told me I could. She asked my husband to support me from behind. The moment I felt my husband’s touch, my entire body just relaxed all-around. I asked my midwife if I could push from that position and she said I could. I usually pushed my children out on my hands and knees, but I felt so tired and that position on my husband felt too good. I began pushing.

My husband supporting me minutes before I began pushing.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Baby BOY ARRIVED at 4:04 PM!

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

PURE ELATION! I seriously couldn’t believe that it was all over. I was in complete disbelief.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

The very moment that my husband found out that we had a BOY! This was our first time finding out the gender of our baby.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

My husband’s expression…simply priceless.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Moments after being born.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

EUPHORIC HIGH.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

My 3 sisters on FaceTime after hearing the news.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

Three generations in one photo. What a gift.

**Photos by sarabethcreative.com

To any beautiful mama about to have her baby. Eat your dates, do your squats, get chiropractic care, go through child birth education classes. But you better not forget this…

“ …apart from me you can do nothing.” -Jesus John 15:5

So pray my sister. And ask those around you to do the same. You got this :)!

Eli James Stephens

7lbs 12 oz

March 19th, 4:04 PM.

Psalm 127:3 “Children are a heritage from the LORD, offspring a reward from him. Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one's youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them.”

Thank you for the prayers, the gifts, the cards, the food, the love. Thank you.

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Yes, I'm Pregnant. Child #4. Here's How I Found Out.

“How many children did you say you wanted?” my beautician asked abruptly.  

All eyes turned to my small demeanor. 

I sat silent.

“Five,”  I said with the utmost confidence, so as to not sound like I was still in elementary school…because I was.

 5th grade to be exact.  

Laughter ensued. 

The most sincere smiles glanced my way.

 I could tell that many wanted to pinch my cheeks, as if such gestures were still allowed at my age.  

“Wait until you have one,” the other beauticians chimed in unison. 

I could see that they held experience. I solely had vision.

That is… until I experienced the birth of my firstborn.

The desire for more kids never waned. A desire that I knew I hadn't conjured up. A desire placed inside me at a young age for some divine reason. 

That is….until the delivery of my second child, Ada Rose. 

One week after her birth, I sat on my couch with our newborn daughter, wondering how in the world other mothers around the world could even desire to have more than two children. I’d just persevered through a natural birth, then through a period of painful afterbirth contractions, and then through too many hours of breast engorgement.

At this point, I felt my hormones dipping quickly and felt a strong need for a good cry. To escape the feeling of loneliness, I chose to distract myself by watching a show on television.

As I began to sink into further despair, wondering when I’d begin to feel “normal” again or happy, I felt the Lord speak. 

Interestingly, I didn’t hear words of comfort from the Holy Spirit.

Instead, the Lord led me to place my hand over my still very mushy womb and make a declaration.

I hesitated for a few minutes. I knew exactly what the Lord wanted me to say aloud,  but I didn’t think I held any level of sincerity to match the coming words. The prompting continued until the words poured forth from my mouth like a dam bursting in great momentum. 

“Lord, this womb is yours,” I said with tears blurring any vision I had while  staring at the screen.  “Have your way. Birth as many precious souls as you so desire through me. I surrender this womb in Your Hands.” 

I felt my words declare something pivotal. It’s a memory forever etched in my short recourse of these last few years.

 A few short months after that moment, my husband and I found out that I was pregnant with our third child, Elena Grace.

She was born in September 2021.

 “When do you want to consider trying again?” I asked my husband when Elena was a few months old.

“I don’t know. But I won’t even consider having the conversations until Elena (our third child) is at least 18 months old to 2 years old.” 

“Yeah, I agree. That way we can enjoy our ten year marriage anniversary,” I smiled playfully, imagining us on a beach in Aruba in the distant future. 

We continued to be asked “the question” by strangers: “ Do you all want any more kids?” 

“ Yeah we do. But we definitely want to wait,” I often stated, with a tone that I hoped conveyed one of a responsible adult.  “There are  a couple of things I’d like to have before getting pregnant again.”  ( A bigger car and a bigger house, for sure- I always thought to myself.)

One morning, my husband took the kids and made their breakfasts while I got some time alone to journal and complete my morning Bible study questions. I went through my routine as normal until one question from my Bible study lesson halted my flow of thought. 

The question stated, “In which ways are you like Peter, walking across the water and not trusting Jesus?”

I couldn’t think of anything and so I asked the Holy Spirit to show me. 

During that time,  I hadn’t really been hearing clearly from the Lord on certain things and so it surprised me when the Lord spoke to me so clearly.

“You’ve been saying that you want to wait to have your next child until you have a bigger house and a bigger car, but I tell you that when you get pregnant again IT WILL BE THE PERFECT TIMING.” 

I wrote what I heard so clearly and moved on in answering my other Bible study questions. 

“How was your time with the Lord?” my husband asked after I returned downstairs to the kitchen. 

I turned to the sink and began washing dishes. “It was good, but I got the strangest conviction about something.”  I shared with him what I felt the Lord was saying and we both shrugged our shoulders and carried on about our days. 

Neither of us knew that…

 I was already pregnant with our fourth child.  

 When I  found out privately, I didn’t know how to respond. But I felt that my response to this news was crucial, spiritually. With the pregnancy test still in my hand, I dropped to my knees and said, “Thank You Lord for this child. I trust You.” 

When my husband found out, he thought he misread the results of my test at first. He laughed in disbelief.

“You for real?” he asked.

“Yeah”

“Wait….how?” he asked. We were actively avoiding a pregnancy. 

“Well, praise the Lord,” he exclaimed and kept laughing. 

Later on, the Lord gave me another Word from Him with the same level of clarity and distinction as His first message to me. 

“You are blessed and highly favored,” I heard during my alone time the very next morning. Despite what our bank account showed. Despite the long list of “wants” I still desired. Despite what others saw, I was  blessed and highly favored.  I am blessed and highly favored. 

We are expecting our fourth child– Spring 2023. 

And we couldn’t be happier.

P.S. I’m currently 23 weeks pregnant. I’ll be sharing soon how the Lord has been crazy blessing us  throughout this pregnancy!! I CANNOT keep the detailings of His specific hand of favor and sovereignty over my family’s life to myself. Will be sharing in full soon.  

Psalm 127:3-5 

Children are a heritage from the Lord,

    offspring a reward from him.

Like arrows in the hands of a warrior

    are children born in one’s youth.

Blessed is the man

    whose quiver is full of them.

They will not be put to shame

    when they contend with their opponents in court.

Be careful to not call a burden what the Lord considers of the utmost blessing. 

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I Broke Down After My Toddler Spilled A Bag of Oats. I'm Not a "Super" Mama.

Yep, thats a bag of uncooked oatmeal you see spilled across the floor.

And this is the moment I broke down.

You only see the oatmeal.

I saw the hundredth fire that I had to put out that day. I saw that dinner still wasn’t made. I heard my small baby crying wanting something to eat. I remembered that the living room and kitchen were both still a mess after already cleaning it twice…in one day. I felt my own stomach rumble-reminding me of my own humanity.

My curious toddler tore the bag open. The oats spilled across the floor. And I simply sat. I stared off and took several deep breaths - while my two kiddos played with oats as if it were freshly fallen snow.

Then I heard them skating across the pile of oats like figure skaters--laughing and giggling with the utmost joy.

I couldn’t get up.

Well, I could. But this time, I chose to sit. For whatever reason I couldn’t muster up the unction to go at it again. To plough through. To think positively. To even worship and rejoice in the midst of the chaos.

I turned on some Nat King Cole to calm my nerves (random, I know).

I texted my husband: “Pray for me."

I FaceTimed my sister.

I contacted the mother of my “mother's helper” - a sweet preteen who lives down the street and helps me for a few hours a week for $$- to see if she could come over abruptly (something I never do.)

The oats continued to scatter. Into the living room. Into the crevices of our baseboard. Into our half-bathroom. But I sat still.

I didn’t have the energy to even react.

Without me giving him any context, my husband texted back saying, "I’m on my way home."

The mother of my mother's helper understood (a mother of four herself) and texted back, “She only has 50 min to help, but we are on our way.”

And without me knowing, my sister got in her car and drove 20 min to come over immediately.

Ought I to have better systems? More organization? A fool-proof plan?

Life isn’t that simple. Oh, what an understatement.

It wasn’t the spilled oatmeal that sent me to a state of breaking down. It was my own precious humanity.

I’m not a supermama. What makes me “super” are the additional hands and feet that come alongside me when I simply can… not…do... it.

On this day, I cried. God saw beyond the spilled oats. And He supplied His sufficient grace through additional hands and feet.

To all my mamas out there with little ones… you’re not alone. This is just a season.

Here's the crazy thing.

I now look back to this picture and smile…on a day that I cried.

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When I was little, my friend and I vowed to never become like our mothers. Well, here's how I did exactly that.

Growing up, I had several friends whose mothers were friends with my mom as well. One afternoon, my mom and I decided to visit one of these family  friends for a quiet Saturday afternoon. While my friend and I were chatting, I witnessed my mother talking in immense detail about a fern—a type of flowerless plant—to my friend’s mother.

My mom wanted to know where the fern was purchased, how much water the fern required, and which window the fern needed to be placed in order to get the maximum amount of light.

They talked for over half an hour. My friend’s mother was just as equally engaged with excitement.

My friend and I looked at our mothers in astonishment. We then  promised one another that we would never become like our mothers—talking at length about a plant. We were destined to do more important things in our life. 

I’m now a full-time homemaker and mother to three little ones.  Seeing a  leaf sprout on my fiddle leaf tree leaves me in sheer awe and wonder. 

Growing up, I wanted to do important things. Things that would cause grave consequences if mishandled. I wanted to be in a position of authority governing serious matters. Life and death situations. For instance, I pictured  myself  in the operating room saving someone’s life. At someone’s deathbed sharing the Gospel.  At someone’s doorstep providing a life-saving meal. 

Years ago, during one of my college breaks,  I sat outside the doorstep of my parent’s home and allowed my mind to roam as I envisioned my future. Day after day I looked into the clouds and asked the Lord to use my hands, my feet, and all of my being for something great. 

Something great. 

Yes, I wanted to do important things.

 I still do.

And I am. 

When my husband comes home from work, he tries to match my excitement surrounding what I consider “major” events of the day that leave me beaming from ear to ear. Whether it's a new leaf that sprouted on one of our plants, or the fact that I got to finally clean our sofas with our  new upholstery cleaner,  or the fact that I managed to not have a meltdown after cleaning, cooking, homeschooling, and getting everyone dressed…these are often my highlights from the day.

He truly tries to match my level of excitement. I often smile at his earnest attempts.

Who have I become? 

Humor me while I share a quick story. 

I recently bought a new pair of sheets from a store called Tuesday Morning. Unfortunately, the sheets didn’t meet my expectations in terms of texture.  Therefore, the first opportunity I had to sneak away from the kiddos, I drove to Tuesday Morning to complete the quick return. 

The moment I stepped through Tuesday Morning’s double doors, two older workers greeted me without hesitation. I saw no one else in the store and became hopeful that my trip would indeed be quick and efficient. I followed one of the workers as she motioned me to her cashier’s window. After explaining to the worker that I was doing a return, she asked me the expected question,  “What’s the reason for your return?”

“The sheets were stiffer than I'd liked,” I responded in short, trying not to look at the clock for the time.  

“Oh goodness, they are! Come here and feel these,” she said while motioning to her coworker to come feel the sheets. 

Her level of interest in my complaint intrigued me and took me slightly aback. 

“Oh goodness. They are stiff,” the other worker stated in disbelief. 

I hesitated, in shock by their commentary.

I opened up a bit more. 

“Yeah. I had never heard of this brand but wanted to give them a try. I even asked one of your coworkers last time I was here for advice on this  brand. But I’m going to stick with Peddleton from now on.” 

“Yes, Peddleton has some really good sheets,” she said with emphasis. 

Someone who understood my world. 

“And Patty, come here and look at the color of the pillow case. It’s different colors than the actual sheets. I mean it just looks like a rank pink. Do you see that?” 

Patty shook her head. The different colors in the sheets disturbed her too. 

“Oh wow. No, I didn't notice that. You’re right it is,” I chimed in with a bit of awe—less at the sheets and entirely at their concern. 

The unexpected camaraderie between these women and I, while we discussed sheets, made me giddy. 

Two ladies who took just as much care as I did to feel the texture, to analyze the color, to envision the feel… of sheets. 

Two ladies who didn’t view my purchasing decision as insignificant. 

Two ladies who understood the importance of having quality sheets.  

Did these ladies know that this short conversational exchange would be the highlight of my day that I’d share with my husband later? 

They didn’t.

She continued.

“You can’t go wrong with Peddleton.”

I couldn't go wrong with Peddleton. 

I grabbed my sheets  and drove home.

For the next several weeks, I kept thinking about Patty and her coworker. Thoughts plagued me until I wrote down what I learned that day.

Here it is.

 You don't know the feel of quality sheets until you’ve slept on 100% polyester. 

You don’t know the taste of a home-cooked meal until you’ve been forced to have takeout for weeks. 

You don't know what it feels like to come home to the feeling of home until you’ve moved into your first home and attempt to recreate that feeling for years. 

You don’t know the importance of creating memories until you lose your grasp on time as you get older and time somehow moves at triple speed. 

I never knew how nor why my mother would spend Saturday afternoons  in stores looking for display plants. Or why she wanted to spend several days decorating our home for Christmas. Or why she wanted us to all dress up to take family photos….

Or why she could talk at length about a plant. 

I am destined for greatness. 

I do important things. 

I became my mother in this way. 

And I’m so happy I did. 

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My beautiful mother with my three precious kiddos.

We got pregnant after winning a raffle ticket.

Evan Jr. was conceived due to the hand of God. 

The miracle of pregnancy is beyond what my mind can conceive. 

One sperm and one egg coming together at just the right time, implanting itself in a womb prepared for weeks prior, and somehow growing into a fully-functioning baby without a single human hand directing the show.  Even more fascinating is the forever inhabitation of a soul, even before our human eyes can see.

This is without a doubt...a miracle. 

But this isn’t what this blog post is about. 

It’s actually about the time my husband agreed to us trying to get pregnant, after months of him wanting to wait. 

But before I share the story of how that came about, I think it’s worth rewinding a bit more and sharing how the Lord allowed Evan (my husband) and I to have three years of marriage before having children...all without any conventional forms of birth control. 

When we first got engaged, Evan and I decided pretty early on to refrain from using conventional forms of birth control.

This is the night Evan proposed. Read the details of my engagement story in God, Princeton, & My Pondered Thoughts.

I’d recently been healed, a few months prior, from some pretty severe food allergies and had finally begun gaining weight, healthfully exercising, and eating a diverse array of foods without issue. With that said, I had no desire to have my body experiment with conventional forms of birth control. Evan, thankfully, agreed without question. 

I didn’t adopt this stance due to being well-researched. In fact, I hadn’t done any. I simply didn’t have a good feeling about going this route. So I asked some older married couples what they did, and the idea of family planning seemed appealing. I ordered Taking Charge of Your Fertility and began reading.

I felt pretty confident that if the Lord wanted us pregnant, despite our best efforts, we would get pregnant. And if He didn’t, He would allow for us to not get pregnant.

I was 22 at the time and quite naive. However, I trusted my Heavenly Father.

Evan Sr. was on board. Our close family members were frightened. Our friends thought we were crazy. And the last few words of most conversations with others were often, “Y’all will be pregnant in a few months. Just watch,” uttered with worry and grimace.

I wanted to retort in response, “And if we do...Well, Praise the Lord!” But my inner mommy-boldness hadn’t yet arrived. Instead, I’d lightly chuckle during these conversations and quietly hold Evan’s hand a bit tighter. 

I had no idea what we were doing.

We married soon after and two years flew by. Evan and I experienced several lazy mornings together. A few binge-watches throughout. Several dates in different restaurants and movie theaters.  A few walks alongside Lake Shore Drive overlooking Lake Michigan. And time…we experienced so much free time.

After two years of marriage, I felt a nudge from the Lord to begin discussing our timeline for kids.  I shared this with Evan.

Evan said he’d take it to prayer.

The only issue? Evan’s “taking it to prayer” appeared more of a coy to delay, and months flew by. 

I felt pretty helpless. Evan maintained his unwavering posture of hopefulness. And our discussion was nonexistent. It ended with me thinking that it was time to begin trying to conceive and with Evan sitting unphased saying again and again “Okay...lemme pray on it.”

What could you say in response to that?

Father’s Day of 2017 was when everything changed. 

Evan and I were both getting dressed to go to church when Evan received a text from our Pastor.

“C’mon man-let us wish you a Happy Father’s Day. We waiting on you, bro!”

Evan laughed aloud and sent him a text back.

“Lol in due time brother. Happy Father’s Day to you!”

Our Pastor was discipling Evan at the time, and they had a close relationship.

Due to Evan running behind, I decided to go ahead to church, since it was only five minutes away. While walking up to the church door, I saw Ms. Carolyn, the best church greeter in all of Chicago, giving out raffle tickets to all incoming fathers. The raffle entry afforded fathers the opportunity to win a gift card at the end of service. 

“Aw..how sweet and thoughtful,” I thought to myself. I hugged Ms. Carolyn and took my place in our usual pew that Evan and I loved sitting on. 

Evan and I standing outside our church building during the summer of 2017.

Evan showed up minutes later.

Towards the end of service, our Pastor walked on stage and directed the fathers in the audience to pull out their raffle tickets. Evan began rustling inside his suit jacket for something. Instantly, he pulled out his raffle ticket. 

“Evan….the tickets are for fathers,” I said while looking around, in fear of breaking an unwritten rule. 

“Oh… I didn’t know. I thought they were for all men,” he said, pleasantly unphased.  

“Evan, you can’t participate in the raffle,”  I responded more urgently. 

“Well, let’s just see,” he said with a humorous smirk.

Apparently, the prize was a gift card for a new suit. A temptation Evan seemed to not be able to resist...even in church. 

But what I didn’t know was that Evan was actually talking to God. Perhaps he had been. He told the Lord that if his ticket was selected that he would take that as a sign to begin having children. Yes, a raffle ticket.

I knew none of this. I just knew that my husband was... well, being my husband: doing as he pleased, without fear of judgment. 

Our Pastor announced the first set of numbers from the pulled raffle ticket.

After much silence, our Pastor asked everyone to double-check the numbers on their raffle ticket.

No one claimed it. 

Our Pastor turned the wheel again and pulled out another raffle ticket. 

Still nothing. No one claimed the second set of numbers either. 

At this point, slight frustration ensued as our Pastor again directed church congregants to pull out their raffle tickets and read their numbers more carefully (church service was running behind and pushing into the start of Sunday school).

Our Pastor turned the wheel again and called out the third set of numbers.

Evan stood up, raffle ticket in hand.

Our church had quite a large congregation. But since we frequented the 8 AM service, everyone knew each other. And they all knew that Evan was not yet a father. 

Evan went up to the stage and claimed his prize. Our Pastor laughed. “Well, we know that Evan isn’t a father...yet but we’re going to give him this gift card.” Our much older church members smiled at me upon seeing Evan on stage...as if to say, “I look forward to seeing you two younguns procreating one day.”

 I was the only one who felt embarrassed.  

When Evan finally returned to his seat, he looked like a deer in headlights. He went on to share with me a revelation I never anticipated him receiving.

“That’s it love. It’s confirmed. I’m going to give the gift card away. But it’s confirmed. I just prayed literally to the Lord that if my number was called that I would take that as a sign to begin trying (to have children).” 

“What?” I questioned in shock.

“Yeah. I can’t deny that one. You just witnessed it.”  

Evan gave the gift card to another father and we began trying that day.

I praise the Lord that my husband was not like Gideon. He knew that the Lord had spoken, as strange as it may have seemed, and he didn’t need a further sign. The likelihood of Evan getting to church late, grabbing a ticket unknowingly, and winning a raffle ticket after two people didn’t claim their prize. This was not a coincidence. The Lord had answered. I just never expected the Lord to get my husband’s attention through a raffle ticket.

We conceived a few weeks later and named him Evan Jr. 

Pondered Thought: What are some interesting ways the Lord has gotten your attention in the past?

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New City, Newly Married, No Immediate Family... And My Husband Quit His Job

It was our first year anniversary, and we went all out—as best we could at the time. After celebrating with a candlelit dinner, a scheduled massage, and a night in a fancy hotel, our celebration was complete. We felt pretty accomplished.  366 days of marriage and counting. 

The next morning, my husband and I woke up in our hotel room and began reading the Word together. While reading a chapter in Matthew aloud, Evan, my husband, paused. He highlighted, said a couple of “hmmm”’s and continued reading. He paused again, considered speaking, but then hesitated at the last minute. 

A few seconds later, and with careful word placement, Evan completely upended whatever 3 year-plan we didn’t quite have. 

“I think I’m supposed to quit my job. 

Yeah, I don’t know. 

But I’m pretty sure this is the Lord speaking. 

Can you pray on it too? It’s just that….while reading, I heard that.” 

“Yeah. Okay. Just like... while reading that section (a section of scripture that had absolutely nothing to do with relinquishing a stable source of income) you heard that?” I cautiously questioned.

It wasn’t that Evan hated his job. But it wasn’t something he lept with joy about when returning home from work. It was more like that subtle nuisance of an activity that he felt forced to do eight to ten hours per day, as a postgraduate who needed more work experience. And when he was home, any recollection of that nuisance was politely put away until the next day’s clock-in. 

“Yeah. I can definitely pray.” 

I prayed right then to myself and knew immediately that this was the Lord speaking. Not only did I feel the hand of God in this, but I also knew that whatever Evan was led to do, he needed to act quickly.

One day later,  Evan put in his two weeks’ notice.

Immediately, we felt a sense of peace. As scary as it was- a new city, newly married, and with no immediate family around-we knew we did exactly what we were supposed to do. 

We just didn’t know the journey that awaited us upon doing so. 

Evan took to applying for jobs immediately. Living on my income (a teacher’s salary at that), in the city of Chicago, wasn’t quite ideal.  I felt led to fast from eating all meat (including fish) until Evan got his next fancy job. At the time, I ate meat three times a day. But it didn’t matter. I knew he’d get a job pretty quickly...since it was the Lord who told him to quit, right? 

Well, after three months of unexpected rejections, Evan became an Uber driver.

Some mornings before leaving the house, I’d let Evan know the exact amount of money he needed to make before a bill was withdrawn from our account. Our savings were slowly dwindling. 

One Sunday evening, Evan left the house at 11 PM due to an Uber driver demand. Because there was a surge in pricing, Evan made $74 in 38 minutes (he still can recall these exact numbers years later). He walked through our apartment door feeling accomplished. I couldn’t have been more proud. 

Our first apartment.

After three months of Ubering, we decided to celebrate Evan’s birthday by going to Memphis to spend time with family. Thank God for Megabus’ pricing. 

Evan photobombing me on our Megabus ride from Chicago to Memphis.

After six months, whatever adventure we signed up for began to look less promising. It honestly didn’t make any sense as to why my exceptionally qualified husband was not getting a job. It baffled us both. Every time Evan neared a final round of interviews, someone else was chosen. Or the job was handed to someone else in-house. 

 We needed money. I craved meat. And people’s skepticism over our “following the Lord faith move” began to annoy me. 

After eight months of searching, Evan came across a promising job opportunity through one of our close contacts. Although this job would be in a completely different area of work than preferred,  it offered good pay with an early start date. Our contact anticipated excitement from us both. And we were. But then we prayed. 

We both knew that this wasn’t it. 

Eight months turned into nine months. 

Not only did we appear crazy, but some moments we felt crazy. 

One evening after work, I got home and found Evan dressed up. 

“What’s going on?” 

“Oh, the Hendersons invited us out for dinner. Apparently, they have some really good news to share with us.” 

“Ohh… where?” 

“Indian Garden.” 

Indian Garden was an upscale Indian restaurant in the heart of downtown. One of my favorite eateries in Chicago. 

We got in the car and drove to the restaurant just 15 minutes away. I couldn’t help but ask. 

“So where is the money going to come from? We just did our budget. This is going to easily cost us $50 with tip.” 

“I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.” 

I sighed. 

We pulled up and began to park. 

“Ev...let’s park further down. Parking is going to cost us at least $10 if we park here. Let’s just walk.” 

“It’s okay. I’ll make some extra money Ubering. Don’t worry.” 

I rolled my eyes. We could use that extra money towards a lot else. 

We walked into the restaurant and were immediately seated. The Hendersons hadn’t made it in yet. I could smell vindaloo and only imagined the different meats marinating in an array of spices. 

“Go ahead and get whatever you want.” 

“Ev, we have a budget.” 

“In fact, get some meat if you want to.” 

“You know I’m fasting….” 

Evan let out his invisible lion’s mane. 

What was he so proud of? 

He continued speaking.

 “ You know that weekend that I said I was going out of town for that church conference?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, I was actually interviewing for ___. They paid for my hotel and everything. I wanted to surprise you. I got the job bae. Here’s your new client exec.”

He got the job. (And I could order my fish vindaloo.)

I got on my knees and kneeled over the seat of my dinner chair. Not symbolically but quite literally.

“Thank you Jesus. Thank you Jesus. Thank You Jesus.”

Tears streamed down my face without effort. No one knew how hard it was to not give up. 

This was what we were waiting for. 

Ten months of waiting. 

We never missed a meal. We never missed a bill. The Lord took care of us throughout, even in the midst of so many thinking we were crazy, naive, and unwise. 

This was what was on the other side of obedience—increased dependence and trust in the Lord. 

Evan’s new job was double the pay of his previous job. Yes, DOUBLE.

One year after initially quitting his job, we bought our first condo. 

Six months into his new job, we conceived our firstborn. Three months into my pregnancy, Evan received an email stating that his new job’s paternity policy had recently changed. He would be receiving three months of paternity leave, with 100% pay. His new job doubled their paternity leave period.  Yes, DOUBLED.

2.5 years after Evan quit his first job, we were in the financial position that allowed me to leave my full-time job in order to work at home, nurturing our little one (and now little ones).

God is good. He is Faithful. And I hope this testimony leads you to look to the One who is unchanging, forever Good, and always available. If He did it for us, He is more than capable of doing it for you. 

“But without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.” ‭‭

Hebrews‬ ‭11:6‬ ‭

Fun fact: I don’t even eat meat anymore, by choice (hahaha). 

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We Discovered $5K Outside Our Doorstep

We bought a townhome in late January of this year, and the first thing my husband said before we even signed the dotted line was the following: "We are going to cut down that tree, immediately." He was referring to a very large shrub growing on the back patio. 

Fast-forward four months, limbs were growing wild. Our entrance from our detached garage into our home was becoming blocked by this wild-growing plant. Anytime we walked from our detached garage, across our patio, and into our home...we would have to strategically move our heads so as to avoid limbs and spider webs. I was ready to begin hacking away myself. The shrub was becoming more of an annoyance. It bloomed once and March and then just as quickly the blooms died. I wasn't sure if the shrub was any good.

One day, my father-in-love came to visit. He immediately took notice of the interesting situation going on on our patio. And without mentioning it to us, he called one of his landscapers to come out the next day to properly shape the shrub.

"Just cut it all the way down," my husband said the next morning when the landscaper came by. 

I inwardly agreed. At this point, I didn't care what happened to the shrub. We had a baby coming in 4 weeks or so, and I was becoming annoyed at the thought of always bending my head and watching out for spider webs every time I entered our patio from the detached garage.

The landscaper carefully noted our vivid requests. But then he said the unthinkable.

"You know what this is?"

My husband's dumbfounded look, coupled with his lack of interest in knowing the genus identification of some shrub, simply shook his head.

The landscaper went on to answer his own question. 

"If you sold this, this would be worth $5-6K easily. This is a grandfather Azealia. Whoever had this before you took really good care of it. It takes years and years of maintenance for an Azealia to grow to be this size. You just have a little fungus on it. But I'm telling you, people want something like this."

My ears perked up. My husband's eyes looked more delightful. I could see my husband making calculations and pitching creative ways for us to invest this money.

I walked back inside and made breakfast. While I watched the landscaper trim the shrub, I couldn't help but see God.

Just a few days ago, we were considering cutting down our biggest treasure in our patio because we didn't know its value. We only saw it as an annoyance.

How often do we do this and even advise others to do so?

We see a struggle, a trial, an annoyance...and quickly find ways to get rid of it in order to make life "easier, less stressful, more efficient" etc.

Here's the lesson learned.

Stop cutting things out of your life that was meant to make you look more like Jesus—Your greatest treasure.

Often times your greatest sore, your greatest annoyances, your greatest trials...are actually the refining that the Lord is using to make you rely and depend on Him—ultimately leading you into greater communion, greater spiritual maturity, and greater patience.

James 1 says, 
"2 My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, 3 knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. 4 But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing."


Before you choose to give up on your child who has run your nerves amuck, or to quit your job because you're not being valued, or to stop that project because things simply aren't coming together as smoothly as you'd like, or to cut that friend out of your life because he or she is just too much...first ask the Lord is this a treasure in disguise? Because before you take out the scissors to cut certain people out of your life or certain things, you may be cutting out a treasure that is being birthed in you... which is Jesus.

Pondered Thought: What are some hidden treasures in your life right now that the Lord is using to refine you?

(P.S. Right now, my greatest trials are seeing the goodness of the Lord even in the midst of uncontrolled schedules, potty training, hormonal fluctuations, and feeling needed all the time. In the midst of this, I can still find the goodness of the Lord and make the choice to depend on Him even more. Oh, how I need Him. And if you were wondering, we couldn’t sell the azalea because the roots go down so deep that it would upend the foundation of our patio if uprooted lol. )

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