Death to Life

In November of 2017 depression sidelined me swiftly and unexpectedly. I had just finished running my first half marathon when I felt the darkness creeping in, only a few days after completing the race. I had trained well, met all my personal goals, and bounced back, physically, but emotionally all I felt was sadness. I've experienced seasons of depression before, but this was the first time I couldn't put my finger on precisely why I was feeling so down: there was no break-up to blame it on, no death, or loss in my life. By all accounts my life was beautiful, but in the weeks after the race my mind and my heart progressively grew darker.

My only goal during this time was to keep "showing up" whenever I could. It was mostly in small ways that felt huge: getting out of bed in the morning, making a lunch for Hudson (who was still home with me at just three years old), taking a shower, running or working out, reading a bedtime story to the kids, and repeatedly praying desperate prayers for deliverance - doing all the things I knew to keep myself from spiraling further into the pit.

I can remember a particularly desperate night, a couple months in, where I felt absolutely gripped by one thought, "This is never going to end and you are always going to feel this way...to BE this way." The lie had taken root: depression fundamentally defined me. Tim held me and spoke truth into my heart - "this is not who you are, it won't always be this way, you're going to be alright..."
All these things were true, it just took a while to let the truth wash over the lies that played on repeat in my mind. All. Day. Long.

Tim was amazing. He shouldered so much of the burden and supported me endlessly and patiently during this time. He helped me find a counselor and he alerted my closest friends. He took care of the kids and juggled two jobs. He cared for me so well.

Since that time I've recognized that depression and anxiety have been a part of my life, both manifesting themselves in various forms, since I was a child. I've dealt with it all before and even since then, but I think my life was finally settled enough for it to pop up without a particular "cause" to which I could attribute my feelings. I found it much harder to accept the depression when it could not be clearly connected to an event or situation; for me, this felt more like something was inherently wrong with me when I couldn't blame it on circumstance.

It would take a whole blog to write all the things that contributed to my restoration. Verse after verse in Scripture came to my attention in new ways during this time. I grew closer to God than ever before. The verses that spoke the loudest inspired my tattoo, which I got the following spring. Jesus said, "I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat is planted in the soil and dies, it remains alone. But its death will produce many new kernels - a plentiful harvest of new lives. Those who love their life in this world will lose it. Those who care nothing for their life in this world will keep it for eternity. Anyone who wants to be my disciple must follow me, because my servants must be where I am. And the Father will honor anyone who serves me." John 12:24-26

The picture of life out of death is one I've lived, and I've found that life comes most plentifully from the dying; this is true of my depression. Life feels fullest after the darkness and God, in His strange economy, continues to use the ugliest things in life to make beauty for myself, for others, and for His glory. And what better to memorialize this lesson than the ultimate example of life coming out of death - the words of Jesus predicting his own death on the cross. I continue to see a personal harvest come from my depression and anxiety. The lessons I learn from these painful seasons are imprinted on my heart and my mind, like my tattoo, and like the example of my Savior.

A Time For Everything

I find it oddly comforting that Scripture says everything has happened before and everything will happen again. One of my dearest friends is struggling through a season of health challenges right now and I was meditating on Ecclesiastes 3:1-15 this evening as I prayed for her (it's the passage made familiar to most of us by The Byrd's song, "Turn! Turn! Turn!"). Having struggled with my own seasons of deep depression and anxiety, I am comforted by the fact when I experience these things I'm far from alone - I know many people have journeyed through similar seasons in life. It's easy for me to see these things when I'm writing from a good emotional place, it's harder to have perspective in the darkness.

As I write this, the COVID19 global pandemic is taking some lives and changing all our lives. It feels apocalyptic, foreign, new. But the truth is, it's not. Yes, there are few living people who remember the Spanish Flu of 1918, the last pandemic of comparison to what we are currently experiencing; however, this is not the first, nor will it likely be the last time our world sees something of this measure. There is comfort in knowing that everything has happened before and everything will happen again.

As I pray for relief for my friend, I am grateful this is all unsurprising to an unchanging God. I am thankful for how He is and how He will use this all for the good of those who believe Him and are called according to His purposes. I believe this no matter the outcome. It is easy for me to trust this truth because I have lived this truth. I have seen God bring beauty from ashes out of the darkest and ugliest things in my own life, time and time again. My marriage, my family, my salvation are all testimonies to this.

Saying "no" to say "yes"

I'm learning a lesson and it's been a hard one.  I'm learning what it means to say "no" to some very good things in order to say "yes" to the very best things in my life.

 

Recently, Tim and I have been in conversation about our family's priorities.  Over the past year especially I have felt stretched thin - like I'm not giving my best to the people and things that matter most to me, namely to my children and to life here at home.  In light of this we made the decision for me to leave my pursuit of group fitness instruction behind in order to focus on what I believe is God's highest calling in my life: being a wife and a mom.  I've struggled with disappointing others, starting something and not finishing it, and placing the value due on the exclusive role of being a mom.  But when we made the decision together I felt great peace because I know this is the first step to something I've wanted very badly for some time.

 

I've had this question posted above my kitchen sink for two years, but I think I only really saw it for the first time today:  Based on your behavior where is your treasure? 
"Where your treasure is there your heart will be also...No one can serve two masters."  Matthew 6

 

I've been serving two (or three or four...) masters for some time.  It's time to say "no" to some very good things to say "yes" to God's best in my life.

Tornado

Today God spoke through my three year old.

Stella came into my bedroom carrying a picture she had constructed.  I asked her if it was for Hudson, because lately she has been creating lots of art for her brother.  She smiled at me, shook her head, and pointed with one little finger in my direction.  Then, she uttered these profoundly prophetic words, "It's for you; it's a tornado; it's exactly what you wanted." 

My child had unknowingly created a visual picture of my internal life using a blue glue stick and scraps of paper:  a tornado.

I have really struggled the past few weeks as I've made the transition from a mother of one child to a mother of two children.  I've lost control of the life I once had.  It often seems I can please no one - let alone myself.  I can barely get out the door, time is simultaneously crawling and flying by me, the house is a mess, sleep is a hot commodity, and the list goes on.  As a sad attempt to regain some of my lost control I have resorted to my usual behavior when things feel crazy: I have spent an inordinate amount of time cleaning...cleaning to the point of obsession.  The absolutely maddening thing is now, unlike before, the cleaning NEVER ends!  As soon as I get one room perfect, another requires my attention, and by the time I get the next room done the first is a mess again; so, I start cleaning over, and over, and over again, all day long.  I have desperately tried to distract Stella and Hudson while running around the house picking up everything in sight - and frankly, I'm more of a mess inside my head than anywhere else. 

In the midst of this craziness I realize I have been living a lie for many years.  The main reason it has taken me so long to realize my own self-inflicted captivity is now the control has finally been stripped from my hands.  In the past, I have had enough time and energy to nurture the lie.  The lie is I am in complete control of my life.  When we just had Stella it was easier to keep things the way I wanted.  I felt freedom in my identity as a mom and a wife, but now I am realizing this feeling of freedom was based, at least in large part, on the fact life looked the way I wanted it to look on the outside. 

The sad truth is I've wasted so much time.

Today I surrendered the fight, because I simply can't do this anymore.  I don't want my children to grow up remembering me spending my time obsessing over things which do not matter, especially things which do not matter in comparison to how much my children, MY CHILDREN, matter to me.  I want to be present for them in a new way and I want them to know what true freedom in Christ looks like - not fabricated freedom that comes from me controlling every aspect of life.

So, I am clinging to the promises of God as he helps me fight against my habits in order to achieve true peace in Him.

“Forget the former things;

    do not dwell on the past.

See, I am doing a new thing!

    Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

I am making a way in the wilderness

    and streams in the wasteland.

Isaiah 43: 18-19

Today, we stayed in our pajamas until early afternoon, the mess grew around us as we spent time together, I took the time to make Stella really laugh.  I allowed her to take pictures of all three of us on my phone - before I had showered and before the house was clean.  I posted a few of the photos on Facebook. Small steps for some but a victory in my life.  I asked God to help me in this fight today and I pray it was the first day of God doing a new thing in me and my family.

 


 

The Gift of Life: Hudson Taylor Carpenter's Birth Story

Just moments after Hudson was born - 5:11am on 1.4.14

We made it to the hospital with not much time to spare!  I'm incredibly thankful, in retrospect, Tim and I decided to go when we did.  This birth experience was so very different than our last, I was unprepared for how relaxed and beautiful the laboring was at home.  I look back on Stella's birth with incredible memories; however, it was MUCH longer and more challenging than Hudson's...and, it's only natural I would expect things to be at least somewhat similar, feeling-wise, to last time.  Afterall, how could two labors be so entirely different from one another?

Around 6:30pm on 1/3/14, we were at home and the contractions started.  They were mild, manageable, and I was able to talk, eat, and walk through all of them without any issue.  One thing which was familiar about my contractions was how irregular they were - with both my children's births I had none of the standard "when your contractions are five minutes apart you will know to go to the hospital."  Mine followed no particular rhyme or reason: five, seven, ten, four, fifteen, nine, five...hmmm...so, how am I supposed to know when it's time? 

Stella was in bed for all of this, but even if she had been awake I am certain she would not have known anything was even happening.  It all felt so, well, normal.  Around 11pm Tim and I headed upstairs to go to sleep; he fell into a deep sleep almost instantly, something which makes me laugh every time because, since we married, the man has complained about having difficulty sleeping and yet he is almost always the first to start snoozing.  I lay awake for about an hour and a half, thinking, praying, contracting, and continuing to feel like this couldn't really be labor; I felt so peaceful.  Around 12:30am (now 1/4/14), I woke Tim up to say things were continuing and I wanted him to be with me during the experience, just in case it started to progress to real labor.  We held hands, talked, and laughed together - I would breathe through my contractions and then we'd continue whatever conversation we were having before the wave came upon me.

I recall feeling somewhat silly when I called my midwife at 2:30am, after having hours of these milder contractions.  What would I say was my reason for calling when I wasn't even sure if this was the real deal?  What could she say to me to help me make a decision?  Two things happened during that phone call:  I had my first contraction that took my breath away - I wasn't able to speak through it.  The second marker, which I shared with my midwife, was how at my routine, weekly, prenatal appointment earlier that day I was already three centimeters dilated and 50% effaced.  While Elizabeth, my midwife, had previously told me in our conversation I could either continue to labor at home or come into the hospital, when I shared this information with her and had my first powerful contraction she suggested we make our way in to the hospital in Dover.  [What is fortuitous is the fact I even got checked at my appointment earlier that day at all.  My prenatal practice, Dover Women's Health, is wonderful - I would call them patient led.  They offered a check but don't force it on women who are not overdue.  I decided to get checked because I had been having a few days of periodic, mild contractions since Christmas Eve, but I also knew to hold whatever information I received lightly because a woman can be 3cm dilated for several weeks without any true labor occurring.  That's why I love my practice, they empower you by offering you the information you need to make your own decisions regarding your birth experience.]

We waited for our dearest Grammy Suze, who came so quickly in the middle of the earliest morning hours, to be the one to greet our precious daughter when Stella awoke and we were at the hospital.  Susan had been sleeping with her phone at her bedside table for several WEEKS before Hudson's birth.  One time, Susan forgot her phone while out to lunch with her daughter, Katie, and I received a text from Katie which said something like, "My mom is FREAKING out bc she forgot her phone at home - so, if 'anything happens' please text me."  I will always remember Susan for her devotion to our family, and, thank God she arrived when she did because we started our journey to the hospital just in time on snow covered roads in the middle of the artic blast which had settled on New Hampshire earlier that day.  It was 3am.  The blizzard had stopped in the early afternoon of 1/3/14; and, while the roads were plowed, they couldn't salt or treat them because the temperatures dropped so rapidly it wouldn't have made any difference.  It was bitterly cold outside.

As we drove to Wentworth Douglass Hospital from Newmarket I continually coached Tim on his driving (guess even labor won't change this, honey...); urging him to drive slowly, lest we get in an accident and have to deliver our baby on the side of the road.  As we approached the light by the Burger King in Dover I felt something change.  I recall saying aloud to Tim, "He's moving into position...please keep driving slowly."  I could literally feel things progressing and I knew it was not going to be another long-labor as with Stella.

We arrived at the hospital at 3:45am and walked to Labor and Delivery.  I had FOUR contractions on the brief walk from the Emergency Room to L&D, so the nurses were prepped upon my arrival - things were really progressing.  Even at this point, though, I was able to have a lovely conversation with the Emergency Room Employee who walked with us from the ED to L&D; his name was Marcus, and he had two kids of his own.  As we got settled into the labor room we met our nurse, Alehson - a true angel and fellow Christian, who prayed us through the entire experience.  Alehson filled the tub, listened to my desires for our birth (we didn't even have time to get out the birth plan), and executed everything with grace and love. 

It was the fastest hour and a half of my entire life.  I remember feeling like the water in the birthing tub was incredibly hot because my body was working so hard.  Tim and Alehson kept a bucket of ice water and facecloths at hand to continually soak and place on my back and my face.  Both of them were wonderful, supportive, and calming.  Toward the very last minutes of my labor, nature kicked in and I stopped being able to control anything that was happening.  I just went primal - and my body truly did all the work of bringing our son into this world while I cried out for relief.

Hudson Taylor Carpenter arrived at 5:11am.  Elizabeth said something like, "Jenny, reach down and pick up your baby."  Our son sort of floated into my arms and I scooped him into the air, above the water.  So small, so sweet.  I clearly recall a disconnect between what had just happened and the fact this was my SON.  My child!  How could this be?  We barely had what I would consider a labor experience!?  How could this child be my own?

One and a half weeks later we are all wholeheartedly in love.  Our lives have shifted to become a family of four.  Stella is the most gentle and loving big sister I could possibly imagine.  Hudson is like his labor: peaceful.  The high of a natural childbirth is unparalleled.  I am just trying to soak in every moment of this precious time in my life because I know how quickly it all goes.

Tippity, Tap, Tip, TAP SHOES!

Today was a big day in the life of Stella Grace Carpenter.  She got a haircut for school this week, her first pair of tap shoes, and a Boston Creme Donut...pretty much the best day ever.

Her face when she first saw her tap shoes...priceless.

Couldn't get a picture bc she was enthusiastically shaking the box.

Celebrating with a donut.

I am predicting the new sound of my life will be Stella's tap shoes on our floors...forevermore.

Pounding heart.

Tim, Stella, and I had a wonderful day together; we traveled down to IKEA to purchase some items for The Barn (a converted barn on our church campus where Tim's youth group meets each week).  We enjoyed the day together as a family and had lots of funny and memorable moments...including this word-for-word interchange Tim and I had outside a Dunkin' Donuts this afternoon (we were sarcastically joking with each other...keep that in mind as you read):

Tim: "They don't have any more pumpkin muffins...do you want me to get you something else?"

Me: "Uggghhh...no...just get Stella a donut."

Tim: "Are you sure you don't want anything else?  A pumpkin donut, pumpkin coffee...?"

Me (in a frustrated tone): "No, just get her a donut."

Tim (sarcastically): "Do you want me to jump on the hood of the car?"

Me (smirking/chuckling): "Just get her a friggin' donut."

Tim walks inside the DD's and I hear a little voice from the backseat:

Stella: "Mom, dad said he was going to jump on your hood."

Me: "Yes, Stella, that wasn't very nice...he should apologize for that when he comes out."

Stella: "Mom, that wasn't very nice to say 'Get me a friggin' donut.'"

Me: "You're right, Stella, I should apologize for that, too."

Cue apology between Tim/me when he came out.  Hopefully our modeling of an apology overshadowed our previous conversation...

Even with the wonderful memories, our night ended on a slightly different note when we made one final stop to fill up our gas tank this evening.  Stella was, thankfully, asleep in her carseat.  Tim came out from paying inside and told me to get my phone to call the police because there was a dad with two very young daughters inside and the dad was clearly intoxicated.  Thank the LORD, a police cruiser had just pulled around the back of the store so I flagged him down just as the man was walking out of the store, carrying a 40oz can of beer in his hand, with his two daughters in tow - both girls were younger than Stella's age and they had little bags of potato chips in their little hands at 8pm.  I don't know what would have happened if that man had gotten behind the wheel of his car tonight and driven away, especially in the state Tim described.  I'm sad for the little girls who likely saw their daddy get arrested tonight, but I'm thankful for the timing of the police officer being in the parking lot just as this man was about to drive off drunk with his precious daughters. 

I'm so thankful for a husband I trust implicitly.  I have full confidence in his parenting ability and I know he makes wise decisions, especially when it comes to the safety and well-being of his family.  I hope tonight was a huge wake up call for that other dad.  Life should be so much kinder for the sake of those sweet girls...if only they knew what it's like to have a dad like Tim, who would never purposely put them in harm's way.

Our Sleeping Beauty

Every night, Tim and I check on Stella before we go to bed.  Last night we found this when we went into her bedroom:

Please note the tiara.

She's our sleeping beauty.

The Dog House.

Stella and I took a trip to Cape Cod to visit my mom for two days - upon our return I checked our photo library on the computer and found this picture dated 7/31/13:



Griffin, the dog, resting on our couch with Tim, the human.

Our dogs have not been allowed on the furniture since Stella was born.  Someone is in the dog-house, and I'm not talking about Griffin...

Mercy

If any of our neighbors were listening to the sounds coming from my house at bedtime tonight, I fear what they think what was happening inside.  Stella had a mega-meltdown when I dumped out an overflowing Tupperware in her bath, which apparently was serving as a tub for her Disney figurines.  I am tired, I am hot, I am pregnant, and Tim has been gone for work for the past three days, so my patience is running thin for irrational temper tantrums.  It's hard to remember in these moments that, at only three years old, her imagination is often her reality - and the things which seem totally irrational to me at age 31 are incredibly meaningful to her at age three.  Instead of completely losing my cool I proceeded to take things away from her when she screamed in my face (she lost her bedtime story), and when she told me she didn't like me and I wasn't special (she had to wear a shirt to bed instead of a dress).  Her crying was hysterical and it honestly sounded like FAR worse things were happening in our household then no bedtime story and no dresses.  As I walked downstairs after she told me, through her tears, that she didn't want to see me anymore, my heart sank.  How could I let the night end this way?

I walked back upstairs after taking a moment to pray and cool off and I crawled into bed with her.  I gently explained that I will always love her, no matter what.  We talked through her consequences, and I'm 99% sure she understood by the time I left her room.  We prayed together that God would help us to have patience with one another, to be kind, to use our words, and to love each other as God loves us.  After I was done praying, Stella nodded her head in agreement and said, "That was a good prayer, mom."  And, I assured her she can wear a dress tomorrow.

"Because of the Lord's great love, we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail.

They are new every morning, great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3: 22-23

Note to Self

Always remove a princess' tiara before naptime car rides...

Baa Baa Black Sheep - Stella Style.

Enjoy Stella's ever-changing rendition of the good old classic, "Baa-Baa Black Sheep"

First Picnic of 2013!

As a native New Englander, I hesitate to claim that spring has officially arrived until about, oh, June; however, today it felt like spring has finally arrived!  Stella and I enjoyed the warm weather by having a picnic downtown.  We love Newmarket and enjoy spending time together near the river, watching the ducks, eating ice cream, and just lounging around.  Here are some pictures of our time together:

Can't believe we live in such a pretty place!

Looking at the ducks.

Stopping donwtown for a break while running errands.



No socks (pasty white legs) and baby crocs = spring!

Stella turns 3!

Our little girl is three.  It's amazing, fun, unbelievable, crazy...it's, simply put, the best.  I often share with people how I cried while sitting on the floor of her nursery, folding up her 3 month old clothing for storage.  I honestly thought it would never be as much fun or as wonderful as it was back then...but every stage has brought with it new heights of joy.  I am so grateful for this girl and how much love, patience, grace and faith she has brought into my life.  She is nothing short of a gift from God.

 

Here are some of the favorite things Stella is up to these days:

• She often says, "No I ant."  Which is her funny way of saying she is NOT going to do something.  We don't use the word "ain't" in our house, so I really don't know where she picked this one up...
• She occasionally speaks in a British accent because some of her favorite cartoons or cartoon characters (Alfred/Archibald from Veggie Tales or Angelina Ballerina) are British.
• She is fully potty trained - HALLELUJAH!
• She loves the clay-mation show "Pingu" and runs around the house saying "Mook, MOOK!" (for those of you who haven't seen it, Pingu speaks in gibberish and this is one of his favorite sayings...)
• She enjoys spending time at home and often doesn't want to leave our house, but whenever we go out she rarely wants to return to home.
• She got her first bike for her third birthday and is excited to ride it with training wheels; she and Tim have been practicing in the aisles at Walmart for months.
• On Easter Sunday this year she enthusiastically shared with a couple of nine-year-old boy neighbors, "Jesus is RISEN!  He is ALIVE today...Happy Easter!"
• She has very specific taste in clothing and wants to wear dresses every day.
• She starts each morning by selecting which dress up clothing she would like to wear outside of her normal clothes...and this is how we leave the house on a daily basis (think: tutus, tiaras, ballet slippers, Cinderella costumes, etc.).

Long story short, I am in love.  So grateful for the privilege of being her mom!

Unpacking the Move.

 

The past several days I have been riding an absolute rollercoaster of emotions.  While I am incredibly thankful and excited to move, I am reminded of why this particular transition ranks among the top stressors in life!  For an organized person just the idea of living amongst boxes is maddening; it's a constant visual in front of me of surrender - letting go; a reminder of the fact that things don't have to be perfect or done immediately.  And that's only one piece of the puzzle when it has come to this move.

 

Shortly after we moved in to the new apartment we realized our hot water heater was broken.  A major hint was the complete lack of hot water [insert sarcastic tone here].  For anyone who hasn't tried doing dirty dishes with cold water:  picture in your mind's eye how quickly butter melts while washing a dirty butter knife using only a sponge and freezing cold tap water - and picture how easily it spreads around to the rest of your sink full of dishes...not a pretty situation.  Thanks to the generosity of our new neighbors (and good friends), the Olivers, we had hot showers the past couple days.  And thanks to people from church, like Kevin Knight (plumber extraordinaire...truly), we now have a brand new hot water heater and are able to re-wash all those buttery dishes, in addition to cleaning and bathing in our own house.  As I drove to church this morning Tim called me with the news that Kevin was going to come to our home on a Sunday to install a new water heater.  The only thing that made it even better was that we believe another friend from church was prepared to pay for the entire ordeal if our landlord took issue with the replacement (thankfully, the landlord was amenable, although not too quick to find a plumber on their own...).  The very idea that someone we know would be ready and willing to pay for a water heater that's not even ours, just to ensure we had what we needed in the midst of an already stressful move...it leaves me struggling for words.  What can only be described as a WAVE of gratitude washed over me; I started to cry and thank God for how the body of Christ works together to bring us comfort and help when we need it. 

 

The sermon today was on 1 Corinthians 13 and I was so blessed to hear the words with a fresh understanding in my heart.  My newfound appreciation for the common passage (often shared at weddings) comes from the fact that I've experienced this kind of love in the past week throughout the course of our move.  I will continue to experience it tomorrow as other friends prepare us a dinner so we don't have to cook.  And the best part is that this kind of outpouring of love is something that exemplifies true Christian community...as much as I don't take it for granted, this is what being a part of the body of Christ SHOULD look like when it's functioning properly.  I have been a Christian since high school and I remain amazed at God's grace that I was ever invited into this family of believers.

 

"Love is patient.  Love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast.  It is not proud.  It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails...And now these three remain:  faith, hope and love.  But the greatest of these is love."

1 Corinthians 13: 4-8a, 13

 

 

We are MOVING tomorrow and Friday!

Over the next two days we are moving to our new apartment!

Thanks to Stella, who provided this recent picture to encapsulate my feelings:

 

It's only two streets away, but it's still a move, especially when you factor in an almost-three-year-old and two rambunctious dogs!  We are looking forward to the following things about our new apartment:

• a fenced in backyard
• brand new windows
• a third bedroom...ahem...guests!!!
• lots more living space
• a dining area
• a sunporch
• a dishwasher (hallelujah!)
• a dry basement
• a two car garage
• staying in the same neighborhood
• living across the street from great friends, The Oliver Family!
• however God chooses to use this house for ministry to others

Things we will miss about our current place:

• being right next door to one of Stella's best buddies, Emery, and his family, The Hermans
• seeing our neighbors, Jenna and Tim, and catching up via impromptu conversations
• lots of great memories and "firsts" for Stella experienced here
• a wonderful landlord, Norm, who took really good care of us over the past two years

Our last move was on the heels of a foreclosure and was MUCH more emotionally draining than this current move.  We are grateful for how far God has brought us in just two years and for what a wonderful place we are at as a family.  Here's to the next phase of live in our little New Village Neighborhood!

Best Day Ever.

Here are a few of the highlights of my life:

Growing up by the ocean as a kid.

Learning about Jesus for the first time when I was 15 years old.

Meeting Tim and knowing I had found the person I wanted to marry.

My wedding day.

Finding out I was pregnant and having a little GIRL!

Giving birth to Stella.

And please add to the top of the list: 2.19.13 - the day I first painted my daughter's toenails.  Anyone who knows me understands how very much I love having a little girl and this is one small reason why...hopefully for years to come we can enjoy little things like this together:

Stella actually said, "CHEESE!" when I was taking this picture of her foot.

Look at those funny, little feet!!

We decided on "seashell pink" for her first color.

My Own Virgin Mary.

Stella is a very imaginative kid.  She's always coming up with new games to play or solutions to different problems.  Like today for instance, she was playing on the stairs and saw a ball on top of the fridge she wanted to get down.  So, she grabbed another ball and, with one throw, managed to knock the other ball she wanted off the top of the fridge!  This kid isn't even three and she thinks of these things all by herself!

 

One of her most recent games has been pretending to be Mary, the mother of Jesus.  For Christmas we gave Stella a gift from an old friend...one we've held onto since before she was born.  It is an interactive, kids nativity set and Stella has literally not stopped playing with it since Christmas Day.  She makes all the characters from the birth of Christ talk to each other...this morning Mary and the Baby Jesus went shopping for food in a toy SUV while the rest of the cast waited for their return...hysterical!  So, we are sure Stella has been inspired by her hours of play with this precious set to actually pretend to BE Mary.  She carries around a doll, who is Jesus, and either Tim or I play Joseph.  We walk through the house and Stella tells us what to do (she's very controlling, just like her mother).  Her favorite thing to do is to pray over her baby; she even puts on a head covering - usually she uses a white laundry bag which hangs in our back hallway. 

 I know it's just a silly game to her, but I hope the story of the birth of Jesus is setting in to her heart and her mind.  In the meantime, though, I am just incredibly grateful God sent ME a child like Stella...she makes me laugh, she is so bright and creative, and already her light shines so brightly in a dark world!

 

 

"Jesus called the children to him and said, 'Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the Kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." Luke 18:15-17

 

"Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in Heaven." Matthew 5:16

 



 

Valentine's Day Princess

Our princess has been busy lately!  We are preparing for an exciting move to a new apartment in our current neighborhood; normal life has not slowed down in spite of the upcoming transition.  We've been sick for much of the winter with one cold after another, and yet we've shared some wonderful memories as a family in the midst of our lack of good health.  Here are a few of them:

Stella and Caroline's simulataneous funny faces:

Winter Storm Nemo:

Lots of Mac and Cheese and other comfort foods while sick:

Valentine's Day Surprises from family and friends:

And celebrating our biggest milestone this year - the start of potty training...2 days and going strong!

Normal Saturday Morning.

It's just a normal Saturday morning in the Carpenter house.
I woke up to a cowgirl princess ballerina:

Who wanted to look at some pictures:

And then pretended she was a baby in a basket:

But wasn't comfortable enough so she grabbed a pillow:

And she got cuter by the second:

Then the princess and I read a book together for about a half an hour:

All in a normal Saturday morning!