It’s up! Another great column by the lovely and talented Maralee Bradley on Her View From Home. Go check out my images that accompany Maralee’s words and dig around the site a little to see if anything else piques your interest.

As to the pic above of Maralee’s firstborn, I cannot imagine any other shot matching the title so well. I love this bright little toothpaste-y face!

Saying, “I could never do that” appears to be a socially acceptable thing when one is confronted with foster care. This I have noticed.

God bless ya, folks. I know exactly what you are saying and thinking because I’ve been in your shoes, I’ve been on that side of the issue. But now I’m on the other side of the issue, on the foster parent side, and I want to say a few things.

You could do it.

No really. You could. You really really could.

Handing back a child—for the good of that child—is not an easy thing. In fact, it can be fairly heartbreaking. But I’ve never heard heartbreaking equated with a “can’t” statement except for in foster care. Except in the case where the foster family is actually looking out for the good of the child. You can’t do it? Really now? I think you might mean that you don’t want to do it. (Which is completely fine and normal and is a statement that I understand.)

I’ve never heard someone upon meeting a potential love interest say she “can’t” fall in love because she might get her heart broken. You don’t say that you “can’t” pick up a stray from the humane society because it might get hit by a car someday. You don’t say that you “can’t” make an offer on a house because something might go poorly at closing time. We chance disappointments quite often. This is LIFE after all! If you didn’t chance being disappointed you would never experience anything at all.

Here’s the thing. I didn’t want to give back the baby I fostered. The one whose diapers I had been changing since birth, the one who snuggled in my neck after her tummy was full, the one whose chubby legs I would slather in sweet baby shampoo and then again in lotion afterwards. Yep, I kinda liked her. Scratch that, I loved her! But I loved her with the knowledge that her good was more important than the impending heartbreak I saw on the horizon. Her good, not my happiness, was the angle there.

The truth is that we’ve only fostered once and that we are total newbies here. I’m admitting that I know nothing beyond what my classes, my foster parent friends and my one foster experience have taught me.

But if you think I’m doing it because I can easily hand off a child to another parent, you’ve got another thing coming. Though I imagine some kids, the really challenging ones, are easier to hand off, in our situation it wasn’t so easy. While we were reaching for the good of this baby, we were also feeling quite sad that we couldn’t keep her.

At the end of the day though, we could get over it because it’s not about us.

We’re all tougher than we think we are really. You can do it. Really really, you can.

My friend Sommer, rocking her baby back and forth in early December. I love this shot. These precious baby days move by quickly, which is why capturing them is always worthwhile.

A surefire way to remind yourself of God’s goodness to you is to count your blessings. You can do this via Facebook status the entire month of November or you can keep a journal ala Ann Voskamp. However you do it, just do it. Remind yourself of the good things and let them win, in your heart, over the harder things of life. This post is to remind me.

My folks. My mom massaged my hands, my wrists and my feet yesterday while I was luxuriously tucked under blankets watching HGTV and—it gets better if you can believe it—my dad helped Livia do her homework. Seriously amazing.

Jeremy. My husband has been a rock. He’s endured my frustrations of late with grace and gentleness and he’s been a big help before, during and after elbow surgery. Our time together in Rochester was as sweet as it possibly could’ve been and even here at home he’s taken on dad and mom duties with more sacrifice than I ever would have shown. God has paired Jeremy and I together for a reason. I like to say we’re a bit firework-y in our relationship, but that’s what happens when iron sharpens iron, right? At 14.5 years of marriage, we’re definitely more humbled and more in love than we were in the early years. I’m grateful for this man!

Piping hot mercy meals. Our church provides meals to those who are sick or have had babies or are dealing with death in the family. We ate something tonight that was 100% comfort food—love in a foil pan. A huge thanks to our church family for feeding us.

Flowers. People magazine and chocolate. Texts. Phone calls. Emails. As a giant extrovert it means a lot to hear your words of encouragement over the past few weeks. Thanks, dear friends, for not forgetting me even though I’ve been out of commission.

Being on the receiving end of lots of help has me thinking about friendship and generosity. Credit also goes to Tim & Kathy Keller’s The Meaning of Marriage, which we’re reading for a small group discussion, and my friend Kerri, whose latest blog post speaks of visiting new churches.

Friends, it means to the world to someone else when you go out of your way to remember them, when you take time from your own concerns to consider how you can help them. You don’t have to do anything world-changing or profound. You can send a card, drop a gift certificate in their front door, call and ask how they are doing, or text with plans to set up a coffee date. You can remember their birthday. You can shake their hand on Sunday and ask their name. You can ask about their kids (parents kind of love that) or you can offer to share your Sunday lunch (I loved that in college especially). When you’re making dinner, double the batch and deliver half to a friend for no good reason. Bake cookies for yourself and then take a plate to that neighbor you’re embarrassed you don’t know. Pick up a plant at your grocery store’s floral section (or a special juice or cheese and crackers that feels a bit extravagant) and drop them by your coworker’s desk the next day.

There are a million tiny ways to bring light and joy to the world around you. Just do it. For the glory of God, do it.

These beauties showed up on my dining room table yesterday to cheer me along in my recovery from surgery. Charity has encouraged me to just get this surgery done already for many months now—how sweet is she to send flowers after I’ve finally done it? Thanks so much, friend! I love how they brighten up my kitchen on these overcast winter days.

For those curious about such things, I had an arthroscopic debridement of my left elbow done. (Sounds fun, doesn’t it? Mmmm.) I have no need personally to Google this surgery or watch youtube.com videos on it. What happens at Mayo stays at Mayo, in my opinion. Speaking of Mayo Clinic, we pursued medical professionals in Rochester, MN, because apparently no one in closer driving distance “does” elbows. And frankly, when you need your elbows to work for the forseeable future, you want the very best in elbow care. I’ve consistently received excellent care at Mayo (of course, it’s MAYO) and so far my elbows and me, we are grateful.

Final word of gratitude goes to my husband who is a really good caregiver. He’s a far better nurse than I’ll ever be and he takes great care of me. Right now I’m still in that post-surgery phase where you need a nap after getting dressed for the day, but things are gradually improving. My left arm will take some time before feeling strong again—two to three months of time—but I expect to be up and running more normally long before then.

The past three months I’ve collaborated with gifted writer, speaker and all-around awesome friend Maralee Bradley on articles over at Her View From Home.

This month’s post—Church of the Plastic Bags—is particularly poignant for me as I’ve literally received plastic bags (and paper ones and boxes and furniture deliveries) from friends as we’ve welcomed a foster child into our household. Our church community longs to help. They love to help. They give and give of themselves and never ask anything in return. It’s remarkable, this evidence of Christ-like love for one another, this giving and not expecting anything back. And you know what else? It’s incredibly humbling to be on the receiving end. It’s humbling and something in me desperately wants to give something back so I feel like we’re even. But that’s not the point! Give, give and give some more. Without expectation. With a lot of grace. With joy. Thank God for these women in my life. They are the hands and feet of Jesus to me and my family.

November collaboration: A Musing Maralee
December collaboration: Our Christmas Miracle

You can find Maralee blogging multiple times a week over at A Musing Maralee and, from what I gather, her voice also graces the radio waves of My Bridge Radio.

The pic almost renders me speechless. Almost. But not quite.

World, meet Austin “The Stache” Mackrill. During this morning’s congregational meeting at Redeemer Austin was called up front to… Um, what did he say? I honestly can’t recall as his mustache was that captivating.

The thumbs up nailed it as today’s DPP. Thank you, Austin. December 2 is a little brighter due to the curled ends of your facial hair.

A huge thank you goes out to the designer of this year’s badge and banners—Dylan Moss!

Not only is Dylan a fabulous graphic designer, but he’s also an all-around good guy. I know he likes bikes and coffee and an equally wonderful woman named Emily. That makes him more than alright in my book.

If you need a graphic designer, give Dylan a holler. Thanks again for all your hard work, Dylan. We appreciate you and we absolutely love this year’s badge.

On the evening of Thanksgiving I found three chefs buzzing about my kitchen, two dudes talking around the table, and—where was my child?—probably two little people watching Phineas & Ferb. A few minutes later my parents showed up and we ate some crazy good tacos for dinner. Our Lawton Thanksgiving meal was held on Friday instead and that evening started my hosting duties.

I love to host. I love having the party right there in my house. Sharing our home with friends and family, letting them make me dinner (not a required thing, but those yummy tacos were not made by me!), getting up in the morning knowing the fun continues; I really enjoy it all.

So now I have a question for you all: What do you appreciate when you are being hosted in someone’s home? What special touches make you feel comfortable? What kind of attitudes are helpful when you are a guest? What should a host do? And what should a host avoid? I welcome your thoughts!

I’ve been scrolling through my archives to find Clara’s infant portrait session and I can’t find them. Argh, did I forget to post them? And Joel’s pics, where are those? Oh dear. Apparently I got forgetful last winter and didn’t post some of my favorite baby images. I’ll make attempts to remedy that.

This baby girl, my friends, belongs to Renae and Jason Morehead. She took her first ever girls’ trip with her mommy, me, and our friend Lauren a few days ago. She truly traveled like a champ even though she was dealing with the tail end of a virus.

Clara, I will always love you. And I’ll always remember how cute you were upon waking up in the Kahler Grand Hotel. Don’t worry about the throw up or the coughing or the incessant gas. Your cuteness covers a multitude of sins.