A Plea to the “Older” Church- Those 60-100s Whom we Love

Dearest 60-100+ Year Olds of the Church,

I recently sat in Sunday School with fellow couples raising young children, chatting about our week. Someone asked a question about my son’s health (post leukemia) and I explained the answer. The particular metaphor I used had come from Mrs. Judy, a 70 year old who I admire and call regularly for advice. Another mom commented, “Oh, wouldn’t it be great to have the grandmothers in our Sunday School class? Mentor Moms are the best!” The irony is that a class full of ‘silver haired saints’ sat across the hall less than 10 feet away.

We are ALL part of the problem. Let’s fix it together. We ARE listening to you, our elders. We young mothers who are trying to teach our children to walk humbly before our God and quickly to the bathroom to avoid accidents are eager for your wise counsel. We LOVE you.

I am abundantly blessed when a woman 30 years my senior calls me to see how my boys are doing or meets with me for lunch to laugh with me over how God interrupts our plans. Please hold our babies and return them with kisses. Godly young women spend billions on books and conferences learning how to be women who change hearts and the world while doing dishes and getting supper on the table –but we are hungry for fellowship. I love to discuss how our lives don’t look how we envisioned and bond over how God uses Down Syndrome, cancer, moves, prodigal teens, adults in rocky marriages or health problems– because we learn and encourage. The authenticity is amazing and you look so comfortable in your skin. (Thank you for telling us to moisturize our necks. Pearls of wisdom!)

Now, Grandpas, Elders, Deacons…guys who have walked with the Lord longer than I’ve been alive: We need you. The young wives whose husbands were unfaithful and left, leaving us to raise up young men with less than stellar examples NEED men to instruct our sons. I know a man who is an expert at teaching young men to tie a tie and give a firm, respectable handshake. These men teach the Word of God while teaching men great study habits and modeling what loving a woman for 40 years looks like. Meanwhile, we hear your comments about our generation and how hopeless it seems.

I spent much of last year in a hospital room, watching my infant son fight for his life. I watched children die, watched parents cling for scraps of hope, and suffer well. The ones who encouraged and taught me the lost were 10-40 years older. They had experienced loss, buried children, put kids through school, lost their spouses and were fighting leukemia simultaneously. They were my lifeline. They LIVED their faith well. Suffering taught me to LONG for Heaven, when all will be made new. In all honestly, some of you will be with Jesus within 10-25 years. Rather than sharing your hope and longing for Jesus, your speech seems utterly HOPELESS. You have the truth of Christ in you and have lived decades longer than us! You’ve witnessed marriages thrive, children mature into leaders, millions of acts of kindness and sacrifice… but you sit around getting angry after watching hours of the news on repeat. Rather than humbly praying or seeking to engage ‘problem causers’, we often see angry blame cast from the comfort of a recliner. That doesn’t show us how to engage and fix problems. We want to emulate you, but we don’t want to turn into the example many of you and your peers are setting. We watch you on Sunday morning AND Friday evening.

Backtracking and explaining SIN ruins the world is difficult when a child thinks following Christ is determined by which party we vote for or which news station we watch rather than serving the homeless or supporting the orphans.  Lord have mercy. Help us to raise our children well.

Again, we WANT you in our lives. Rather than ‘spoiling our children and handing them back’, we see many of you volunteering for church functions, cheering the kids on at soccer games and holding hands with the wife of your youth. You can teach us to argue well and to not throw in the towel over wet towels on the floor…again. Teach us to love well and to abandon selfishness. We can get crafts and crockpot meals off of the internet. We can’t get great role models investing in our lives–which we desperately need. If you want to see your traits in the next generations you MUST TEACH US in a way we understand and then test to make sure we can emulate it. Then encourage us as Christ helps us write our own stories rather than making us carbon copies.

My favorite people in my life right now are 10-40 years my senior. Yes, I regularly call 50-70 year olds to touch base, to ask questions, and to share hilarious stories about raising boys. They invest in my life and I ‘keep them young’. Generations are meant to live intertwined lives. You have much to offer and we are yearning to learn it. Perhaps we can learn from each other and become more like Christ as we do it.

Also, let’s have  Sunday School class together. We promise not to make too many age jokes when we study the Old Testament.  We are eager to learn. Help us avoid sins that you battled. Help us learn from your experience. Model how to serve well. You can still change the world. You’re not in Heaven yet.


A Raised In the Church 30-something Wife and Mother Who Needs You

On Resting, Hiding in the Bathroom and Being Productive

If you’re anything like me, you may be reading this while hiding. Let’s face it; moms of young children do their best scrolling, reading and researching while hiding from our children. The usual place is the bathroom of course, but closets, storage units and cars are also good options.

Today I needed to have a time-out and count to ten (do as I do, AND as I say) because my kids are under the September possession. They are exhausted, crying for no reason and seem to be unreasonably pained and inconsolable. They are also falling asleep ALL the time, even while standing up. My 4 year old has put himself down for a nap twice this week. Basically, I am raising toddler versions of pregnant/nursing mothers. All hail Back-to-School. In another month they will be running on leftover candy and holiday-forced-good-behavior.

I decided I needed a moment to breathe and ran to the bathroom. This obvious choice is wonderful because usually moms hold it almost as diligently as teachers and medical professionals. (God bless you nurses with your steel bladders!) This was a MISTAKE.

I tried to take a deep, cleansing breath and then smelled the reality that I am surrounded by males. Thus, I am surrounded by pee. The smell never leaves, Girls. There is no bleach that can compare. Just burn the house down and wish it well. I looked down and saw a small basketball floating in the toilet. William strikes again.

I proceeded to clean the surfaces and floors, wash out the potty chair and get the spare toilet paper roll ready for an ‘at bat’ that is sure to come tomorrow.  After ten minutes my bathroom smelled neutral and was presentable.

Solace is productive. “I took a mommy break” turned into “I cleaned the bathroom”. TAAA DAAA! Even when moms rest, we still get things done! This is much like my ‘mom breaks’ being trips to get groceries without children. Ah, the joys of an unaccompanied tour.

Either I am a mommy-break Jedi Master or I have no idea how to do it. Likewise, last night I watched the LiveVideo of Jen Hatmaker for her book For the Love (AMAZING!) but needed to give my husband room and quiet to study.

I retreated to our bedroom closet and propped the computer on the top shelf, giggling away and reorganizing. By 11 pm the bedroom was organized and I had NO idea how it happened. Ah, positive and productive things happen when a mom can just focus on one area of Damage Control without also being Prevention Services simultaneously.

Take heart, Mommas. Even if you hide in the bathroom to actually-gasp-go to the bathroom, you are still productive and multitasking. May you find rest without finding puddles. I am SO proud of us, Momrades.

Why Family Dinner is Risky: A Story in Disaster Creation

If you’ve parented during the internet age, chances are you’ve seen statistics about the importance of family dinners. Family discussions, healthy meals, etc. contribute to all those great things we want for our children. Except… oh, except for when making a home cooked meal for the family comes at great risk. Yes, for the mother of the toddler it requires turning her back to either the home or the stove, dividing attention between the two. Say, for a moment, that a mother receives a phone call or needs to finally relieve the bladder she’s held for 5 hours… well now.

This is why men look at us in disbelief when we announce that we have waited for them to come home so we can use the restroom or shower for more than 60 seconds. Today, I will  show you what happened while I took leftover chicken off of the bones and threw it into a pie shell with broth and veggies to make chicken pot pie for dinner.

First, the 4 year old scurried into a room out of sight and went through every game we have, littering the contents while my hands were covered in chicken. William decided to crawl and then roll through the pieces, while giggling and playing dead, pictured here.

messy house

I ran to the room where this originated to find a desk destroyed and flowers overturned. Choking hazards littered the floor like an abandoned landmine field.

messy house desk

(I spy with my little eye… a shadeless lamp, 300 clear and blue marbles, recycling material scattered on a desk, spilled flowers and mail on the ground. Can you?)

While those were being picked up by Culprit #1, I returned to find William throwing K’Nex at the window. He had removed his pants and found the cowboy hats, which he placed on his head. I heard “Hat!” for the next 4 minutes.

messy house will

As all the ingredients were placed in their proper shell, I checked on the clean-up progress in the other room. The marbles were put away but my money was missing. Nothing says ‘toddler’ like a wallet raided of crucial identification. “I left it in my other pants” has become “I have a minion army of my own making that raids me regularly as I make dinner.” I’m sure that will go over well.

messy house wallet

Yes, ultimately family dinners do bring the family together. For us, it’s over the toy bins while singing the Clean Up Song.

If you called it a loss and ordered pizza tonight, well done. You get bonus points for paper plates as well. Heaven knows what horrors the dishwasher has seen. More than one plastic toy and bouncy ball reached a watery grave while burned on the heating coil in that thing.

Here’s to you, parents with houses that are disaster areas. Chances are you are doing it right. Even if you aren’t, you aren’t alone.

What To Say and Do When a Friend’s Child is Battling Cancer

Hearing and processing that my 23 month old William had Acute Myloid Leukemia was extremely difficult. Telling those who love us was even more so.  Everyone was a bit shocked.

only monday

“What do you need?” “What can we do?” “How can we help?”

In some ways it is like watching a swimmer get caught and pulled under the current in the ocean. Fighting at full strength, they need help. A good lifeguard doesn’t just yell instructions or throw out a life ring. A good lifeguard runs and jumps into the water, no matter how cold, runs with high knees over the waves and supports the person in peril. It is hard to pull a person who is heavy and struggling. In that state, they are in no position to ask specifically for you to help them breathe, etc. You may have to get in and do the basics FOR the person.

This September is my first Pediatric Cancer Awareness Month as a parent with firsthand knowledge. Upon request, I have revisited this year and realized how many lifeguards and life-lines helped keep me anchored in this storm called leukemia. If a loved one is battling cancer or if you want to be prepared, I’d like to humbly offer this perspective of what comprises magnificent lifeguards.

Specifically, what things SHOULD you say or do for a friend whose kid is battling cancer?

1.Pray and tell them so!  In the shock of diagnosis and early days, a person feels overwhelmed by people and isolated simultaneously. While on isolation precautions, I felt desperate for connection. During suffering, we often feel alone but in truth, hundreds of people have gone through similar events.

Let your friend know they are NOT alone and that you are available to them in thoughts and prayers. 11pm texts came in nearly nightly from one friend who promised she was on her knees in prayer for us, storming Heaven’s gates. It gave me great hope. On dark days, I was appreciative when the mailman’s brother’s hairdresser fourth removed from the dog’s side prayed. It is like being surrounded by warriors on every side who are punching cancer in the throat. I didn’t just pray for health or peace. I prayed for understanding, that Jesus would be present, that God may be glorified and that we could spread the gospel. There needs to be purpose in suffering.  Knowing people were praying that I could get sleep, that my older son would have peace at school and not feel angry or scared… those were the specific heart cries I needed met.

2. Be present and available as much as possible.  If you can be at the home or hospital and it is helpful to the family, be there taking care of them. I know my friends who couldn’t get to me struggled, but they texted me constantly. I couldn’t answer right away, but I felt supported. One friend came and spent every Saturday and Tuesday with me for dinner at great sacrifice to herself. It reminded me of college and kept me sane. Laughter and chocolate go a long way. If you can’t be there, send boxes. I LOVED goody boxes that had healthy snacks, caffeine, lotion and little treats. It made my friends seem near.

3.If “there is nothing you can say… DON’T.”  Listen. Be still. God DOES give us more than we can handle. Kids DO die–it may not be alright. Try not to say, “I don’t know how you do it.” Instead, things like “I knew you were strong, but now I can really see it more than ever. It is encouraging more people than you know” turns a simple compliment outward and reminds us that nothing is wasted. Even when we tell you we aren’t strong, don’t have it together and are falling apart, remind us what you see.  It’s hard, I know. Tragedy happens. Sit, suffer and make a meal. That is how you share our burdens. It makes us feel supported and loved.

4. Enter into their world. It is like entering a new country, learning a new language and adopting a new culture with fatal potential. Talking to friends and family that took time to learn the abbreviations, the meaning of blood counts and what the drugs did kept me connected and showed they cared.

5. Offer something specific. It is easier to say yes to something specific that to come up with what we need, especially  when we need sleep or showers. Offering to bring a gift card or pizza on a specific night and then asking which time will usually get a yes.  Look at what you can give or how you like to bless and offer. It is easier for all. If it is a dear friend, don’t ask. Just scrub the toilet. (Thanks, Mom in law. Potty training boys isn’t pretty.)

6. Keep offering. My friend Jen had to ask me about 1,345 times before I agreed to let her start a gofundme for us. Even afterward, she had to badger me to put up the link and ask. I was dreadful at asking for help. She also organized a meal train that was essential to our survival. She didn’t give up when I allowed my mommy-guilt to overcome my need for help. She used her strengths (my weak areas) and just did what needed to be done to meet our needs, even though it felt more uncomfortable than an atomic wedgie. I would NEVER ask for gas money, but a friend realized we paid $1,000 in gas and parking and soon gas cards and donations offset that need.

7. Encourage the REST of the family. Siblings are often on the back burner. Many people gave gifts to William, but the gifts I cherished came to Jonathan, who struggled mightily. Those who offered playdates, took him to Speech class, brought him cookie and sent him cards stood in the gap while I couldn’t be with him.

8. Take over the back burner. In this crisis mode, resources are thin. I moved the week after getting out of the hospital, so a dozen friends came to say goodbye and prepare the house. in 1 hour, the lawn was mowed, the kitchen was spotless, the curtains were down and the toys were packed because we did it together. The grandparents who drove Jonathan to school and friends who brought meals to my husband were as near to my heart as the nurses who changed our chemo bags.

9. Bring in the fun. This time will be memorable, so bring in good memories. I treasure the dance parties, laughs with nurses and other families, the Friday ‘girl days’, and rare visits. If you can make the friends laugh, bring favorite treats, and make the mundane into a party, do it. Don’t be afraid to ask how. When our kids have fun, we have fun.

10. Forgive them. If you are a friend blessed enough to receive the ‘vent’ or the complaining, you are most loved.We are being vulnerable with you, as well as total downers. That’s what you get for being trusted. We are also enormously sleep deprived, scared, processing and grieving. We need to lean on you as we learn to walk again, and that can be annoying. We may forget to ask about your daughter’s recital or to buy you an anniversary card, even though you mentioned it 15 times. Your understanding and patience during our worst will earn you our undying love and allegiance during our best. It is worth it.

There are many precious friends I have made because of this cancer-battle. The suffering is currently outweighed by the joy, although the grief and pain are still sharp. Thank you to the friends who realized I’d be going down the medical ‘road less traveled’ and said, “Road trip! I’m coming too- with snacks!” Life is better because of y’all.

William Erkkila 007

Remission: The Abating and the Abiding

The conversation is a familiar one; I have it almost weekly. “Oh, I see leukemia is listed next to William’s name. How is he doing?” What a loaded question. I answer simply, “He is currently in remission.”  Usually a simple, “Oh, good!” will transition to next question but every so often, I get one of the great Question-Askers. These are not the nosy ones who love the nitty gritty details; these are the deep thinkers who drive the mudane and daily into our souls with pointed questions.

“Remission. What’s that really mean to you?”

My father’s worn, brown and gold Webster’s American Dictionary that has petals pressed inside it defines remission as 1. Pardon, forgiveness 2. Release from a debt, tax 3. An abating, as if from heat or pain

Remission and recovery are two entirely different things. For us, both are happening. What most see happening is recovery. Think of the storm victims we see on television each year. The proud homes they once relied upon for shelter and memory storage is now a pile of scattered pieces. News crews shove cameras in their faces, some of them crying, and ask them to describe their loss, their experience in the storm and perhaps prod for an encouraging message of hope and rebuilding. They look out on all they knew, remembering each detail and somehow being trapped in the trauma, all while beginning to strengthen and rebuild. These things happen simultaneously.

Too often we think that we just recover from grief. I don’t think that is the case. To no longer see William suffering with pain and to see his body breaking in order to save it is a pardon. The joy of having my son and home slowly restored in spite of my inability is sweeter than a forgiven debt I can’t pay back.

Then there is the abating. So often when our pain stops, the healing is not immediate. When skin is burned, it must painfully restore. The consequences remain, even when the trauma ends. Sometimes when we are shattered, we get back up but we walk with a limp. That is why we must lean on each other. 

The abating is not enough. We must abide.

The people dearest to me were the ones who were quick to answer a call, to provide a meal and to bravely come and witness our trauma. For nearly 5 of the 6 months, I abided with William. When the battle comes, we need battle buddies who say, “I am with you”, not “everything will be alright.”

It may not be alright. The children die. The spouse leaves. The goals shatter. The money runs out. We cling to something as we let go. How precious are Jesus’ promises, “I will be with you always, even to the end of the age” and “Abide in me and I will abide in you.”

My darlings, William’s body will always bear the scars. My heart is changed. The task is that it must now be changed for the better. We are slowly rebuilding. We are looking at how life was before and trying to sort out the mess of what changed things. We were stripped down to the foundation and found that it was on rock, not sinking sand. It felt like being trapped underwater too long– lungs aching, adrenaline rushing and desperate for it to end. Remission feels like gasping for air but needing to lie down and breathe before trying to swim again…while everyone else is cannon balling of the high dive.

I do not have the answers. I can’t promise that it is going to be okay; that bitterness, heartache and pain will not consume you. I can simply tell you that Jesus is where the pardon, the forgiveness, and the abating is, for his blood “brings the remission of sins”. Sin causes suffering, but the beauty of remission can be known.

When we abide we are present. We can hear the heart, smell the breath and memorize the being of another. During trauma it is easy to cling to God as the whiplash runs through the body. It is afterward, when the rubble is around and the abating makes the abiding a choice that it matters. That is when the joy and the rebuilding comes.Friends, are you in remission or are you looking for an easy recovery? When we are recovered, we don’t need a Healer, a Savior or a God. When we are simply in remission, we can abide. That is why suffering is so sweet.


REAL Back to School Preparation for the Compromised: A New World

Those first week of school pictures were adorable. Each of your precious kiddos stood with their outfits, backpacks or sat at their home-school tables ready to go. Parents kept social media and stores busy with shopping lists, large purchases and offers of school clothing swaps. Oh, the preparation represented!

Whew. Now that the first week or so is over, it’s time for the a new school preparation. I’m talking about stocking up on vitamins, immune boosters and cleaners. Let me show you how I prepared for school. I turned into the ‘OCD-cleaning-frenzy mommy’.

cleaning supplies 1

Now we must prepare for the REAL back-to-school onslaught. Prepare for the Crud. The Plague. The Pink-Eyed Monster. The germs are here. After only TWO DAYS Jonathan’s teacher has called in sick with pink-eye. William’s Physical Therapist cancelled on account of illness. Playdates are being cancelled right and left. The sound of sniffling is breaking the silence. Our kids are going DOWN, y’all. They will be snotty. They will cough. They will use us as human tissues and towels. This is the joy that will ensue and continue until Christmas, when we all visit other states and spread our strains of viruses to others and bring it home, infect others and then suffer until Spring Break.

Sick kids were a problem before, but now I’m in a new world that I only vaguely knew existed.


This is a very crucial problem for us this year because William the Conqueror’s immune system is very low and compromised. It’s making me into a New Mom- that Germaphobe Mom. With my firstborn I was careful, but didn’t sanitize the pacifier when it dropped. I thought eating a handful of dirt was an ‘immune system builder’. I was once told that I was ‘a first time mom that acts like a third time mom’. I took it as a compliment. Then cancer happened and I am now turning into a super-germ-destroyer because I’ve seen what happens to William when the usual illnesses hit his defenseless body. His suffering is drastically disproportionate to ours.

Will ER

The 24 tummy bug that was passed around was a serious issue when William caught it. 7 days caused a 4 pound weight loss and ultimately sent him to the ER. With a brother in school bringing home the Elementary-Influenza, this house is on lock down.

All toys get washed every two days. I also wash the toys at church. Everything is on the ground and touching mouths.

clean toys

At the door we have a shoe station. Shoes are shed at the door to avoid tracking outdoor germs where Will crawls. We have hand sanitizer and wipes to clean the doorknob. We even have face masks for people to ‘just have allergies’ or ‘have a little tickle that is probably nothing’ for when flu season hits.

cleaning supplies

Overkill? Yep. Am I terrified that he will get sick? Nope. It’s going to happen. He is in the Lord’s hands…and mine, which are clean.

We have changed circumstances and changed lifestyles. We seem like masters of overkill, unusual and even trapped in a bubble. It’s what we do to protect our children. There are a lot of things out there in the world to protect our kids from and to face head on. We can pretend like they don’t exist, or we can confront them. More importantly, we can’t let fear control us or over-influence our actions. If the Lord saw fit to bring my boys through serious illnesses and challenges, there is purpose. Nothing is wasted.

What is threatening your home and or your children? Physical threat? Spiritual attack? Emotional issues? Anxiety? Starting over? The unknown? 

When someone we love is susceptible, it is our job to rally the troops and protect. It may seem counter-intuitive to some, but this is where love shows. This is how we are truly strengthened.

Wash your hands and say your prayers. Jesus and germs are everywhere.

Give Me A Break

This was an “exciting” week. It was the kind of exciting week when a husband is away for work and disaster strikes in the form of illness and injury. We had three urgent/emergency doctor’s appointments this week. Jon broke his elbow on the slide pictured behind us. William’s g tube is infected and has been bleeding for days.

broken armcrying broken arm pic

There has been quite a battle to get William proper care, but we finally have a plan for Friday. God provided friends who offered meals and encouragement just when I needed it.This uphill battle should be par for the course but my friends, I am so weary. My sons’ pain has worn me down physically and emotionally. Worse, I am tired AT God. Yes, I am exhausted in his general direction because this is the point where temptation to despair is most evident.

This is when the Devil taunts me, challenging that I am not content in all circumstances.

This is when the weight of my children’s health feels like my responsibility because God seems to be taking too long.

This is when a healthy family that isn’t in crisis mode seems like a hope that isn’t intended for our family. These are guilt-causing lies, my friends. LIES.

will bleedingWill doc

This is the breaking point when faith is beyond feeling. Otherwise resentment, bitterness and doubt set in. This is when it feels like my faith isn’t strong enough, because of course my God is strong enough.

At church on Sunday, a woman who is pregnant asked us to pray for her unborn child. A recent scan showed a potential issue with in the brain and she is scared. As we came to pray, a woman insisted that before we pray for healing, her faith had to be strong enough to dismiss Satan’s power. Healing would come related to the mother’s faith. Um, WHAT?! No. This is a lie from the pit of Hell, and I told them so.

Of COURSE, we should pray for supernatural healing from the one who designed this child. We know that God can heal the child and use the testimony. YES, God has performed amazing miracles and healing through prayer.  HOWEVER, God often uses what devastates us to make us more like himself. If God doesn’t do an immediate healing, the conclusion is that the problem is the faith of the afflicted. They are no longer in the faithful-elite-class. (Amusing, Paul’s thorn in his flesh wasn’t removed. Was it a faith problem? Hm.) We must be careful what we preach to the deeply wounded.

God’s healing is NOT always proportionate to prayer. Prayer is powerful and can bring healing. God has used answers to prayer to stop the sun, stop the rain, to raise the dead to life. Prayer is essential– so don’t misunderstand me. I just want to encourage those dealing with illness, cancer, disability, or even a child who isn’t sleeping that it isn’t caused by a lack of faith. God isn’t refusing to heal because of a lack of your belief that he can and will.

I reassured the mother that we would be here for them in any outcome and that she is not alone, because that is what you NEED to say to that mother. I WAS and AM that mother.

People suggested my faithful prayers would keep William from having Down Syndrome. They recounted stories of incorrect tests and assurances that doctors don’t know anything, even after I told them it was 100% sure, and that the third chromosome was seen in the blood. They were sure he would be born perfect. William was born complete and healthy… and with Down Syndrome.


God used this blessing despite the prayers. I prayed for leukemia to be absent from his body and for infections to heal. Instead, they were treated. I watched families treat and pray diligently for their children…and those precious ones still died while well-meaning people sent suggestions for chemical-free remedies, proper prayer guides, and even suggested chemotherapy was the wrong course of action. I know, because all of these were given to me.

last chemo

I can think of another person of great faith who prayed for God to remove something but yielded to a greater plan… Jesus. In the garden the night he was betrayed he prayed for the cup to pass, but “even so Lord, not my will but yours be done.”

Faith brings you through the trial; faith isn’t intended to be an escape hatch.


Honestly, it does hurt when the answer is a no. It will feel like God isn’t faithful. It feels like God doesn’t love you, even when you know it isn’t true. Don’t cling to that lie. If you’re fighting that, you aren’t alone. I am struggling to cling to God during suffering too. I believe this process is called sanctification.

If you have a struggling friend, just love them. Be the hands and feet before you quote scripture and leave, thinking you’ve done a favor. The ones I adore are those who message me prayers, brought me meals, brought gifts for my boys and took care of Jonathan, the child who is always on the back burner while speaking God’s truth because they LIVED it. They helped me feel God’s love and fell in love with my William. We saw God do amazing things, even when he didn’t do what I asked him to do, with faith.

God’s ways are not our ways. That can be really hard to live with. It is also the greatest blessing.