light in the dark

I know their smell and the sound of their voices. I know every look. Every crease of their brow. I know that "uppa! uppa!" means "pick me up!" and that no one says "ok!" cuter than she does. I know just how his face will crumple before his tender heart gets the best of him.

Long after baths have been taken and prayers said, I will remember how they ran 'round and 'round the kitchen counters laughing and playing chase. I will recall how he told his sister "I don't want to hold your hand because there's a booger in the middle of your head" and every detail of her face as she squinted her eyes and scrunched up her nose at me. I will dwell on these things until they are etched in my mind forever.

I am their mom.

So much of who I am and what I do is wrapped up in these tiny miracles that are living proof that the very best of two people can exist in one person.

They are among some of my first thoughts of the day and on my lips as I pray for them before bed each night. I am their cheerleader, chef, and chauffeur. I am their rescuer that gathers them close when life...or the ground...smacks them in the face.

Being their mommy means I persevere even when I want to quit. I don't take sick days or vacation. And Lord knows, no one is more aware of the food pyramid than me. I spend my days doing everything in my power to protect them, defend them, and mold them. Being their mom means I love them fiercely and deeply. Unconditionally.

Simply put there is nothing I wouldn't do for these little treasures that are so much a part of me that it's hard to know where I end and they begin. There are no lengths I wouldn't go to in order to ensure that they are safe, healthy, and happy.

All these reasons and more are why I can't quit thinking about the moms of those 20 precious children that have escaped this world for a much better place.

I have no doubt they knew every tiny detail of their child's quirks and personality. Every like and dislike right down to the order in which they would eat, or refuse to eat, each food group at every meal. Their homes echo with the silence of that missing voice that will never be heard again this side of Heaven.

These thoughts haunt me as I hold my children a little tighter and much longer. I have never been more aware than I am now of the fact that in the blink of an eye I could find myself exactly where those women are now. The reality of that steals my breath until fear and panic threaten to overwhelm me. Some days it's easy to live my life as if evil doesn't exist around every corner. To pretend that the most innocent lives cannot be touched by it. I want so badly to believe that if I work hard enough and am smart enough I can shield my children from it.

But deep down I know that I can't. Because I am not the One in control. He holds the lives of those I love in the palm of His hand and there is no safer place for them.

The cold hard truth is that there is an evil one that has come to steal, kill, and destroy. He roams about looking for innocence to devour. He is terrible and full of our worst nightmares.

But he is not the winner. In fact, he is already the loser.

It's hard to remember that when we're faced with the very darkest of times. But let's not forget that light, even just a flicker, is never more apparent than when we can see it against the backdrop of night. We may not be able to say His name in our schools. His presence may not be acknowledged outright in the media.

But make no mistake, He is still here.

Every one of us was created in His image. There is no escaping the evidence of our Heavenly Father here on Earth. He is in every kind or heroic act, every piece of good news, and the unexplained miracles are the strongest argument for His hand among us. Take a moment and add all those things up and I think you will see, like I did, that He was, is, and always will be victorious over evil.

He is our hope in times such as these.

Isn't that the very essence of the reason we celebrate Christmas? He came to be our rescuer. To save us from the things of this world that can smack us in the face when we least expect it. He came so that our souls could be shielded from evil forever.  

He knows the sound of our voices. Every crease of our brow. He knows the number of hairs on our head and each of our days before one of them came to be. He knows just how our hearts will grieve when the worst comes to pass.

He delights in every piece of us. We are etched on the very palms of His hands.

He loves us deeply, fiercely, and unconditionally.

So let's live like the victors He's already said we are and be that flicker of light against this backdrop of night. That is how we can be a people worthy of the memory of heros and innocent lives.

white as snow

Dusty surfaces. Laundry piled high. Unmade beds and dirty dishes.

This is my life. A constant game of catch-up in which I am almost always the loser. It's hard not to look around and see all the ways I'm not measuring up. Some days this "in your face failure" spills over into my attitude resulting in impatience and clipped tones. I think to myself,

Oh, hi, Proverbs 31 woman. I was just trying to live up to the standard that you have so graciously set. Obviously, it's going well.

On a day that feels like a lifetime ago, I awoke to the sounds of "Going to the Chapel" thanks to my wonderful parents. I eagerly anticipated walking down the aisle to marry my best friend as I put on a beautiful, white dress complete with princess shoes and sparkling jewelry. My thoughts were not filled with the challenges and sorrows we would face, but rather that we would be doing life together...come what may.

May 22, 2004 was a day of celebration. We danced. We laughed. We may or may not have cried a little.

Finally the time came to make our grand departure. Rose petals floated down all around us as we made a mad dash for the elevator that would take us to our honeymoon suite. Once safely inside, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked more than a little exhausted. My head was beginning to throb a little from all the hair piled high on top of my head. My dress suddenly felt very heavy. And was it my imagination or did I look about 12?

As the doors slid shut and several of our friends and family waved goodbye, it suddenly occurred to me that a chapter of my life was closing and a new one was beginning. It felt a little overwhelming, and now I had the feeling of being 12 to go with looking that age.

This is the part of the story where I tell you that even though I was deliriously happy to be married to the love of my life, I was exactly that. Delirious. Exhausted. Hanging on by a fiber of a thread that could break at any moment.

And it did.

 As soon as we got to our hotel room.

I laid myself right smack dab across that queen size bed and mourned the fact that a wonderful part of my story was over. And that somehow my suitcase of clothes did not make it to the hotel. Suspicious? Yes. Did Luke have anything to do with that? He says otherwise. I have my doubts.

Later, when my meltdown was over and my clothes had been delivered, Luke carefully took all of the bobby pins out of my hair and helped me wash the hairspray out. Always the one with the servant's heart. I will never forget that he did that for me. He had every reason to be frustrated with the emotional rollercoaster he had just committed himself to "until death separates us."

As I hung up my dress, I noticed some wax from the unity candle had dripped onto it. And the hem was no longer a pristine white but more of a dingy gray after the events of the day.

I never had it cleaned.

 It still bears the evidence of the day when I became Mrs. Keiffer and promised to love Luke well for the rest of my life. I look at the dirty hem of that dress and memories of family and friends surrounding us as we made that holy covenant flood my mind. I remember dancing with my dad. And then dancing with my new husband. The toasts and practical jokes that will never be forgotten.

 The most important dress I ever wore is dirty because I lived some of the most precious moments of my life in it. It symbolizes the beginning of a chapter more wonderful and definitely more messy than I could have ever imagined.

Eight years later, I don't feel 12 anymore. In fact, some days I feel much older than my 30 years. I love my husband infinitely more than I did the moment he took out those headache-inducing bobby pins. He is still married to an emotional rollercoaster, but the ups and downs are not quite as extreme. At least that's what I tell myself.

This is my life:

Only most days it looks a little less picture perfect and a little more like we're drinking some of that crazy koolaid.

Case in point:



I've traded clean clothes for ones smeared with crumbs and the occasional nose wipe. I still wear princess shoes, but only on those rare occasions that my Prince Charming and I get to escape for a few hours. And the sparkling jewelry? Well that would be my children that are constantly hanging on me.

Unmade beds mean that little treasures are here to sleep in them every night. Dirty dishes remind me that nothing is better than family time together. Even if most of that time is spent telling a certain one year old to quit throwing food on the floor. Savannah has never loved Brooke more. And dusty surfaces mean that we are making memories that will last long after I finally get around to that chore.

In the moments that I allow the voice of God to penetrate the chaos, He gently reminds me that the dirt and the mess represent a life well lived and much loved. His mercies are new every morning, and as His bride, He washes the ugliness with His grace.

So that everything is white as snow again.

laughter is the best medicine

Here I am again for the second day in a row. I'm as shocked as you are. Truly. I have resolved to do better about recording the details of everyday. Partly because I gave half of my brain cells to my children and can't remember anything beyond yesterday, and also because I know one day I will want to look back and reminisce about the good 'ol days.

I love to laugh. It can turn your mood and your whole day around for the better. These are just a few of the things that have made me laugh or smile lately:

Savannah {our dog} recently had to have ACL surgery. It was not cheap. Savannah is not Luke's favorite. You can imagine how pleased he was to put his plans for our theater room on hold due to the unexpected expense. Still, he sucked it up because he knows how much Austin and I LOVE her. Obviously, she has to take it easy, which means jumping in and out of the car is not allowed. As Luke bent to pick her up and put her in his car, his pants totally split right down the middle of his backside from top. to. bottom. I cannot remember the last time I laughed that hard.

We took a family trip to Best Buy the other day because I wanted to speak Luke's love language and I'm secretly hoping he'll take me on a date to Pottery Barn in the near future. That song "Good Feeling" came on over the speaker system and both of our kids broke out in their best dance moves. As an added bonus, Austin decided to sing the song for the rest of the day. His version went a little something like this: "Whoa slow down. I've got a feeling." The actual words are "Ohhh sometimes, I get a good feeling."

Austin loves going to Spanish class at school mainly because they usually go to "the big playground" afterwards. Whenever I ask him what he's learning he tells me hello in Spanish is "Hola!" {pronounced like Lola without the "L"}

Until just recently, Austin would add a "t" at the end of random words. For example, he would say "tennisT" and "mineT" even though I've told him that the "t" at the end is silent...

After a week long business trip with some co-workers, I was telling Luke what I pictured one of them looking like in my head. I wasn't even close. So then it occurred to me during a rare moment of quiet in my car that it is quite possible that NONE of the figures in the Bible look like I picture them to be. This is going to make finding Esther and Ruth a tad bit difficult when I get to Heaven. Then again, I would like my new body to look like Carrie Underwood so maybe there will be a round of introductions at the Pearly Gates.

I love the way Brooke will make up songs and sing them in baby talk. I also love how she tries to sing the words to "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star"

My littlest sister Claire told me that the person she is most looking forward to meeting in Heaven is Noah. She wants to ask him what it was like to build a big boat while everyone made fun of him. According to her..."He could have just chosen to die in the flood and woken up in Heaven." Problem solved. I'm glad God didn't choose Claire to build the ark. I kind of like rainbows.

Brooke and I frequently have conversations throughout the day. I speak in English and she answers in "Brookese"

My parents are in NYC for the first time. My dad just texted me a picture of the Statue of Liberty and said "Goodbye Lady Liberty. Or Lot's wife. Whatever."

Austin tells us on a regular basis that he wants to play soccer, tennis, or baseball because they are the safest sports. Why is it important to only play the safe sports?"Because if I get hurt and can't play my team won't win." Clearly we still have some work to do.

The other day Austin asked me "I can't marry Brooke, correct?" Cue the crickets.

A big thank you to my family for keeping me entertained. Of course, I'm always happy to return the favor. Have a happy Tuesday!

playing catch-up

Well. When I signed on today I wasn't even sure good 'ol blogger would remember me. But lo and behold, it did. And then I panicked when I saw all the changes. But here I am anyway and so much has happend since the last time I recorded my thoughts about our lives lately.

Let's get started shall we? Life is so full and wonderful here in Rockwall. Our house is feeling more like our home complete with pictures on the walls. That makes such a difference, doesn't it? It took me awhile to decide where I wanted everything because I really think you need to just live in a new space first before you start deciding how to accessorize her. This drives Luke especially crazy which won't be a surprise to anyone that knows him well. He is task-oriented and was a man on a mission when it came to unpacking boxes. He also despises hanging things on the walls mostly because he is a perfectionist and doesn't do anything half way. I love that about him. Slowly but surely, I figured out where I wanted everything and Luke began the task of carrying out my vision. My favorite wall so far is the first one you see when walk in our front door. It's filled with pictures of our little family. Sweet memories that make me feel so blessed everytime I walk by. Pictures of our littlest treasures, our last family picture {Brooke was 4 months old. Clearly we're long overdue for a new one}, a tribute to the city where "Luke and Aimee" officially began, and a sign that says "Home is where your story begins." Our wedding album, which I lovingly refer to as The Book, sits on the console table underneath and is a reminder of the day that started all of this craziness. I wouldn't change one single thing about my life and who I share it with. God has been so good to me!

We have gotten involved in a church and attend a Lifegroup on Saturday nights, which is full of the most wonderful people. They are sarcastic just like me and Luke and they love Jesus with their whole hearts. Just last night we attended the baptism of two of the kids from our Lifegroup family. As I stood there watching them profess Jesus as their Savior and that they had asked Him to come into their little innocent hearts, I was overcome by emotion. Thank goodness for sunglasses to hide tear-filled eyes! I'm not one that makes crying look pretty. Who's with me on that?! There we were, a group of believers celebrating together the most important decision anyone can make. What a blessing it is to walk this parenting road with these people that strive to raise their kids the same way we do. May our children be among the next generation of those that love God passionately and have a heart to win souls for Him!

On that note, Luke and I had the privilege of witnessing Austin become a Christian. There have been several opportunities to share with him the hope that we can have when faced with death. We talked to him many times about the gift of salvation and what it means to "ask Jesus into your heart." On October 1st, the three of us sat cross-legged on his bed while he prayed that sweet prayer in his little boy voice. I could not have been filled with more joy! Nothing could have prepared me for all the emotions I would feel as he made the decision of his life. Death has been defeated again and Satan cannot claim the life of my oldest!! About a week later, we were eating lunch with Luke's parents who had just returned from the funeral of a good friend. We were discussing Heaven when Austin looked at his Pops and said shyly, "You know what Pops? I'm a Christian." He pointed his little finger at his chest and I almost lost it right there in Olive Garden. I am just so proud of him. He has such a tender heart and I know God will use that mightily. Before he was born, we prayed that he would come to know Jesus at an early age. That prayer has been answered. We are so grateful!

We are truly blessed and I am so thankful that God would be gracious enough to give us all that we don't deserve. Still, life is not perfect and I would never want anyone to think that we have it all together. We don't. I have never been more aware of my need for Him than in this season of my life. This year we have been surrounded by suffering and the reminder that this world is not our home. Satan has used this to feed my fear of the worst happening to our family. Aside from God, my family...extended included...is the most important thing in my life. There is no other group of people I am more loyal to than them. I prefer my family and, given the choice, would rather spend time with them than anyone else. I know that God wants me to trust Him with their lives and well-being. He is their Creator, afterall, and He is worthy of that trust. Good grief, He has every right to demand it of me. But He is so gentle with me and ultimately desires that it be my choice. I will be honest, this has been such a struggle for me. There are times when Satan shows no mercy and does everything in his power to use my fear to cripple me. He has come to kill, steal and destory and boy is he good at his job. Some days I can say to the him: Mission Accomplished. I am a work in progress and there are days I have to choose minute by minute to put my trust in the One that deserves it the most. And then there are the days that I fail to make that decision. Cue the panic attacks. No one loves me better or more than He does. No matter what the future holds, His plans for me are good. I am so very thankful for His patience and the promise that He will never give up on me!

Looking back at this past year, I feel like this new beginning in Rockwall is symbolic of God doing new things in my life. Challenging me in new ways. Not only am I finding myself forced to deal with some of my deepest fears once and for all, but He is also urging me to stand firm in my faith and what I believe. Even if it means I am standing alone. I realize that I started this blog initially to document our life through each season, but I also want to be able to look back and see what God was doing in my life. He is so faithful despite the fact that I am a hot mess most of the time. Nevertheless, He who began the good work will finish it to completion.

for brooke

Even though it is a couple of months late, I still want to write my daughter on her first birthday. As you can see, having 2 littles has made life crazy but full of joy!

Dear Brooke:

After waiting for months that often felt like years, the day finally came for us to welcome you into our family. You were born with eyes wide open and as silent as the first hours of morning. Such a contrast already to your brother who cried for the first hour of his life. Since then, you have been anything but silent, and you still take in every detail of life with wide eyes and infinite curiosity. 

The first few months were rough. For us and for you. Still, we persevered together and thanked the Lord for caffeine and the ability to act like we knew what we were doing. We have loved getting to know you this last year and discovering all the ways you are fearfully and wonderfully made by our God. You are stubborn and feisty. You can be a Mama's girl but some days you just want your Daddy. Above all, you adore Austin, or "Bubba," as you call him. Your little face lights up as you say his name over and over when he walks into the room.

You know what you like and dislike. You hold to your opinions without wavering, and one day I'll be thankful for that trait. For now, there is molding to be done and we need every ounce of God's wisdom and grace to be the parents you deserve. You challenge us and force us out of our comfort zones. God is using you to teach me the importance of letting go of perfection and the crazy idea that I can do any of this life on my own.

I cherish so many moments with you. Rocking you to sleep while you hold tight to your paci and favorite monkey. Playing peek-a-boo and chase. Watching you play with your brother and love on him. But perhaps my most favorite moments are when you snuggle close and pat my shoulder. In those precious seconds, I know firsthand the blessing of the mother/daughter bond and pray that we are always close.

Before you were born, God told me that you would be our "joy that comes in the morning." I had no idea then that that theme would be woven throughout the first year of your life. We have spent many hours on our knees in prayer for dear family and friends. Asking God for miracles. Believing His promise that after the night comes the dawn and with it...JOY! We have been reminded that in this world, we will have trouble but He has overcome the world!

You are our joy, Brooke. Our tangible proof that God is faithful and full of blessings for His children even when the storms surround us. When you face the ups and downs of this life, remember this part of your story! Remember that when you hold tight to Jesus, you can face anything with supernatural strength, grace, and Heavenly focus.

I never want to forget the little things about this season. How you laugh when you put your brother's swimming shorts on your head. The way you dance when any kind of music is playing or how you say "Awwww" when you hug us. I love how you scrunch up your little face and with squinted eyes, you let us know you're disgusted. These moments are fleeting and a reminder that ultimately you are on loan from our Heavenly Father. Be patient with us as we learn to let go in different ways and never forget that you are one of our treasures. We love you, sweet girl!!

Mommy

enough

Rockwall: Chapter 1 has officially begun. How's it going? Well, like most things, it has it's ups and downs. I'm currently looking into a name tag for my car that reads:

Hi! We're the Keiffers. Obviously we're new here.

To Robert at Starbucks: Sorry for taking your tall cafe mocha. I wasn't even aware anyone but me ordered that size anymore. Unfortunately, I didn't see your name on the side of the cup until after I left.

To the SUV rapidly approaching in my rear view today. I'm sorry for being indecisive. I just couldn't committ to one of the 5000 ways to get to Starbucks from Target.

{I'm beginning to see an unhealthy pattern here. Or maybe my motto should just be "Give me Jesus...and give me Starbucks..."}

And finally, to the lady in the car behind me that waited as I backed out of a parking space after missing the turn to Austin's school, I apologize. I didn't see you coming down the one way road. Hopefully, it won't happen again. And by the way, I'm trying not to be jealous that you're dropping your child off at his regular Mother's Day Out program.

As I make this adjustment to a new place, I'm reminded of Ruth. She, too, followed someone she loved to a foreign land.

But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the LORD deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.

Ruth 1:16-17

This is not the first time I've followed Luke to an unfamiliar place. As much as I loved Baylor, we knew we would be happier if we could experience the college thing together. And so I packed my bags and headed to Tulsa. Even then I loved that man with all of my heart! Wanna know the only thing I was sure of as I filled out applications and applied for housing?

Wait for it...

Tulsa was a city in Oklahoma. I was fairly certain I would need to beef up my wardrobe a little since it does snow there.

That's it. Apart from the fact that I felt like it was where the Lord was leading me, I had no guarantees that Luke and I would even be dating when we graduated. Let alone engaged!

Fast forward three and a half years.

Not only are Luke and I engaged with an amazing group of friends, but I spent the majority of my time in Tulsa living with a girl from Kerrville, Texas. In case you're wondering, that's a small town about an hour north of San Antonio.

We met randomly in the lobby of our dorm and bonded over our love for Jesus, Texas, and the need to deep clean at least once a week. Is God good or what?!

So here I am again. Missing friends. Missing family.

Missing the familiar things that made me feel secure.

And while I scrub the dishes and wipe the spaghetti sauce off the stove, I tell Him that my heart aches for San Antonio. His reply is simply that He knows and He aches with me even if this move was His will in His perfect timing.

Oh, how I love that my God would walk this road with me. Even when the enemy tries to tell me I'm all alone, He reminds me that He is right here, holding my hand, as I begin this new season.

I recently did a study in which I learned that just before Jesus was born, God was silent for four hundred years.

Four. Hundred. Years. That's like as long as it takes Austin to get dressed in the mornings. True story.

I can't even imagine what it would be like to long and wait for a word from God only to hear nothing but complete silence. He used this time of famine, so to speak, to create a desperate hunger for Him because He wanted to world to be ready for what was coming.

His Son.

And what a celebration that night was! Stars were shining, angels were singing, and I would be willing to bet money that God blessed Mary with the best hair day she'd ever had because she was the mother of His Son afterall.

He was here. The prophecies had come true.

And the famine was over!

As I was listening to this lesson, I was struck by the fact that this is a time of famine for me. A famine of friends, family, and the familiar comforts that defined my routine. Even as I grieve the closing of the San Antonio chapter, I hear Him whisper to my heart that He is enough.

He has always been enough.

I am certain that at the end of this famine something wonderful waits for me. Rockwall is where we're supposed to be even if it feels lonely and foreign right now.

Maybe you are also in a foreign place. It doesn't have to be a new city. It can be a time of illness, change, or just the realization that life is brutal. All of the sudden, your world has been turned upside down and it's all you can do to keep your head above water.

Maybe you, like me, need to hear that He is here. He is constant.

And He is enough.

faithful

Time is a funny thing. Some days it seems to drag. Lucky for me, those are usually the days that Brooke has a million dirty diapers and Austin has just as many questions and complaints. And then there are the days that seem to slip through your fingers like running water. You blink your eyes and all of a sudden a chapter of your life has been written and that season has passed.

I remember the day that Luke came home and told me they were moving the AT&T headquarters to Dallas like it was yesterday.

We had lived in San Antonio for 6 months.

It was like you could hear my bubble popping. I know Luke heard it too because of the look on his face after he told me. A feeling of panic and anxiety overwhelmed me and I was just a little bit angry. Ok. Alot angry.

What was AT&T thinking? Moving the headquarters? Didn't they know that some of us actually liked it here. Had families here. Hopes and dreams too.

So I did what any girl in denial would do. I lied to myself and chose to believe that we wouldn't move. I told myself that Luke could be happy with the positions available here in San Antonio. Obviously, I conveniently forgot that little commandment about leaving and cleaving to your husband...no matter where his job takes him.

For the next four years, the knowledge that our time here was limited hovered in the back of my mind as I formed friendships and made memories. I held my breath any time Luke had a meeting with one of the "higher-ups" of AT&T. Each time the anxiety and sadness threatened to overwhelm me, I clung to the hope that by some miracle, we could stay in San Antonio.

I tried not to be bitter whenever Luke seemed excited about his career possibilities. Afterall, how could he not be excited about a move? A promotion to the city where his family lived? What's not to like? As you can see, I was hugely successful in avoiding bitterness...

Each meeting he had only confirmed to me that Luke was gaining the respect and recognition he had earned and deserved at AT&T. It became increasingly obvious that it was just a matter of time before he was offered an opportunity in Dallas.

One morning, I woke up with a sense of dread and anxiety like I have never experienced all wrapped up in a neat little package of sadness. In the words of Anne Shirley, I woke up in the depths of despair. I felt like I had no where to turn with these feelings. I didn't want to be a Debbie Downer to Luke's excitement about his career opportunities and I knew my family was struggling with this possibility as well. I am ashamed to admit that I didn't immediately turn to the Lord like I should have. But He is still faithful even when we are not.

I happend to read an entry on one of my favorite blogs that morning. I don't remember what it was about. All I remember was the way this verse leapt off the page at me:

Lamentations 3:21-23

Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:

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.

That morning, my Lord spoke to me as clearly as if He were sitting across from me just shooting the breeze and drinking His morning coffee. He reminded me once again that His grace is sufficient for today. He told me that when the day came to say goodbye and close this chapter of our lives, that I would not be consumed with sadness, anxiety, and hopelessness. He promised me this simply because He loves me that much.

A peace that I have not felt in 4 years replaced the dread and anxiety. I was still sad about the changes ahead but I no longer feared them. I finally felt free.

Two months later, Luke got an official job offer for a position in Dallas.

I waited for those same feelings to overtake me, but praise the Lord, they didn't!

On January 16th, a new chapter will begin for our family. Luke will start a new job in Dallas and I will begin the process of wrapping up the San Antonio season of our lives. There are still many unknowns and my heart is grieving already over the goodbyes yet to be said. I will miss lunches with my dad, playdates with friends, and Bible studies with families going through the same things we are. I will miss having my mom stop by and visits with Claire when she's home. I do not look forward to explaining to Austin why we can't see his old friends when he tells me he misses them.

Still, I am thankful for our time here no matter how much my heart aches. Living here was one of the desires of my heart that God granted, even if for just a little while. I am humbled that He would give me the gift of time in San Antonio with people I love. I am still tempted on a daily basis to dwell on the future instead of living in this moment. But I cling to the knowledge that I will not be consumed, and I am learning to savor the blessings of today without fear of what tomorrow holds.

the best gift

Dirty dishes, piles of laundry, the baby's climbing the stairs...

Wait. The baby's climbing the stairs?!?

Don't judge. You know your second child has the "Just Survive" Syndrome too.

As women, our lives are rarely still and if you're a mom, you can forget quiet. Am I right or am I right? Don't get me wrong. I love the sounds of little voices chattering and the pitter-pattering of tiny feet throughout our house. But every once in a while, I remember for a moment what life was like before two little people needed me 24/7. And for a split second, I miss it. And then I realize I wouldn't trade our chaos for anything! This madness is my life. And it is good.

 Still, Christmas seems to add a whole other level of crazy to the mix. Gifts, parties, decorating, and all the eggnog you can handle, which is none for me because I can't bring myself to drink something cold with the word "egg" in it. Just sayin'...

It's hard to remember during the hustle and bustle that the reason we celebrate is because He came.

He came to a small stable. He came to a young couple that had nothing. But most importantly, He came to save.

He came without fanfare or fireworks to save a tired world without hope. In His humble, gentle way, He came to earth to perform a rescue mission. And while we celebrate that He was born that night in Bethlehem, may we never forget that He is still here.

He is here in the mundane tasks I do without thinking. He's here as I tie his shoes or brush her hair. He's here when I'm sad just as He's here when life is so wonderful that it takes my breath away.

He carries us when we feel like we can't go on, and He dances with us as we celebrate life's unforgettable moments.

He meets us where we are just how we are. Dirty dishes and all.

He came to save. And He stayed. Not in the manger or on the cross, but in our hearts if we let Him. He stayed so that we can have life. And have it more abundantly. So this year, let's celebrate not just that He was born and placed in a manger, but that He stayed.

For you. For me. For us.


And that, my friends, is a gift worth celebrating. Along with the fact that the baby only climbed one stair before being caught.

doing life with Jesus

Whoa. Talk about a serious blog break! But due to the events and adjustments of these past months, it was probably a good thing I didn't post much. Ok, anything!

To catch you up, on March 28th at 12:03 PM {after God blessed me AND Luke AND Claire with just FOUR hours of labor} we welcomed the most beautiful baby girl into the Keiffer family. Here she is...boxing gloves and all:

And here I am with my babies. Well one baby and a very big boy:

Please excuse the post baby stomach and water retention. Clearly, this look was also part of The Curse. Thanks, Eve.

In all seriousness, though, I think one of my favorite things about having 2 little ones is watching them interact. At first, Austin was not so sure about this little human that cried loudly and often. It probably didn't help that she was too little to recognize her big brother and look at him adoringly. That usually helps me like someone better.

Just sayin.

After a few weeks, something wonderful happend. Brooke started smiling!

 And looking at her brother in complete awe and adoration.

I'm not even kidding when I say that she does not look at anyone else the way she looks at him. It's just all kinds of fabulousness!

Doesn't that just make your heart melt? Mine too.

While I would love to say that the last four and a half months have been picture perfect, that would be a lie. A big one. I think one of the reasons we don't remember the challenging times when we look back at certain seasons is because WE DIDN'T DOCUMENT THEM WITH PICTURES! Am I right or am I right?! The fact that the good times far outweigh the bad probably has something to do with it too. 

At the beginning of this pregnancy, God told me that our next little one would be our "joy in the morning." He told me again after we found out it was a girl. That's when I started to wonder if maybe their was some ulterior motive for telling me this. Can God even have ulterior motives? Probably not. Anyway, it suddenly occurred to me that maybe He was telling me this because I would need to remember it later. Have you ever heard that phrase "You hit the nail on the head?" Yeah. Totally applies here.

The first few weeks were filled with the usual adjustments that come with a newborn. You know, things like 3 hours of sleep at a time {if you're lucky}, house arrest {because you don't want strangers touching your new baby with no immune system. Why would they even think that's ok?!}, and the realization that your Eating For Two Diet is officially over. But in our case, there were some added bonuses as well. I guess you could say it was a two for one kind of a deal.

Two words: Acid. Reflux.

Major bummer. We're talking projectile vomiting, screaming for hours, and very little sleep. I will never forget the Saturday morning that Luke and I put Brooke in her stroller for a walk after 2 hours of screaming in a last ditch effort to get her to quit crying and sleep. It did the trick. Within minutes, our sweet girl was sleeping soundly. As we walked, we told each other that one day we would look back on these weeks and laugh.

I don't recall smoking crack during that time period, but I was also operating on the least amount of sleep I've ever gotten in my life so my memory is fuzzy at best. I'm still not convinced that we will ever laugh about those first few weeks, but there is one thing I can look back and say with certainty.

God's grace is sufficient for today and His mercies are new every single morning.

I just thought life was challenging with one little person. This new chapter has rocked my world completely compared to that.

Being a mom is the hardest, most challenging thing I will ever do. Hands down. It is physically, emotionally, and spiritually exhausting. There are days that I fail my children. Miserably. No, really. At the end of the day we are all miserable due to my poor attitude. I never thought I'd see the day when going to the bathroom ALONE was the highlight of my day or eating a hot meal was a huge accomplishment. I don't even remember what life was like before the madness that is The Bedtime Routine.

But the truth is, this job is not just a job to me. It's my calling. Austin and Brooke are my mission field. Every day God gives me the chance to change their lives. What I choose to do with that opportunity is up to me.

No one ever said that ministry...of any kind...would be glamorous. My ministry as a mommy is no different. I change dirty diapers, have spit up on my clothes, wipe noses and bottoms. But when I look back on these days, I will remember how I memorized the way Brooke smelled as I held her close and rocked her to sleep. I'll remember having heart-to-heart talks with Austin as I tucked him into bed. I dry their tears, celebrate their victories, and fight for their souls on my knees. 

I was recently reminded of this verse on a great blog:

The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ 

Matthew 25:40 (NIV)     

How humbling, right?

 When I lose my patience with either of them, I've lost my patience with Jesus. When I put them first and myself last, I've chosen to put Jesus first. I change His diaper everyday and fix Him macaroni and cheese. I answer His questions, and heaven knows, I've put His paci back in His mouth AT LEAST a million times. Daily. 

And while I'm doing all these things for Him, He is molding and shaping my character. He never gives up. Never loses His patience. Never complains about my shortcomings. 

I can't say that I've done the same for Him even though He deserves it far more than I do. 

So I'm going to write this verse out, tape it up somewhere I can see it often {like the pantry...hey! it's not easy to give up the Diet for Two}, and memorize it. Each day, I want to choose to treat my children the way I would treat Jesus.

Because he is our gift:

And she is our joy:

And they are the treasures God has entrusted to me for just a short time. I will choose to soak up the good times and persevere through the challenges. I will make memories and do life with them. I will see Jesus when I look at them.

Because I want them to see Him when they look at me.

this time next week...

It's hard to believe but this time next week, the Keiffers will officially be a family of four. I know we're all so excited, but for me, part of it is a little bittersweet. For almost four years, it's just been Austin and me. I would be lying if I said that I haven't shed a few tears over the closing of this chapter. The last few weeks I've done what I seem to do best these days, which is worry.

I know. I know. Jesus tells us not to, but honestly, I can't help it sometimes.

I worry how Austin will handle the change. I worry that he won't feel as loved when we have to pay special attention to Brooke. Luke tells me he'll be fine and I'm sure he's right...he almost always is, which can be infuriating sometimes. Still, it's a mom thing, I guess. I've spent the last weeks obsessing and preparing in every way possible to make sure this transition is as easy on him as it can be. And of course my final preparation would have to be a letter. Afterall, I may need it someday just to prove to him that he wasn't chopped liver before or after Brooke was born.

Dear Austin:

There was a phrase my family frequently used to refer to a fun memory in the past or coming in the future: "This time {next week, last week, next year, etc}." As I grew up, I would find myself thinking that same phrase to myself about the most random times or events.

Today, I'm starting that tradition in the Keiffer family.

This time next week Brooke will be here.

As your Aunt Brittany said just this morning, I will be a mother of two and you will be an official big brother. No doubt our world will never be the same.

Before the sleep deprivation catches up with me and causes my patience to run extra thin, I want you to know how wonderful these last three and a half years with you have been. In some ways, it feels like it's been an eternity since we brought you home from the hospital, but mostly it feels like I blinked my eyes and you were no longer my baby but a little boy.

My quiet times these last few days have been about Mary and the birth of Jesus. He was her first born too, you know. The Bible says that she treasured every memory with Him in her heart to look back on through the years to come. I love that verse because it's exactly what I have done these last few years with you. I had no idea what I would do with a little boy. Let's be honest, I had no idea what a little boy would do to me! 

But just like the Lord promised, you have been a gift from the start. You have forced me out of my comfort zone and shown me that I'm capable of more than I thought I was. Nine hours of labor, potty training, and many other things come to mind. 

God has used you to show me things about Him I never would've known before you came along. I love that being a parent has given me new insight into how deep the Father's love is for us. I love that you have taught me what it means to have child-like faith.

When I look back at the memories I've stored in my heart from these last three years, I'll remember Target trips, Sonic dates, and our heart-to-heart talks before bed. But more than anything, I'll remember that, much like Mary knew from the very beginning, God has shown me that you have never been mine. You belong to God and have been entrusted to me and your Daddy for just a short time. I pray that as you continue to grow and need me less that you would find you need Him more. He is more trustworthy and capable of taking care of you than we'll ever be!

It's true. This time next week, we will begin a new chapter in our family. But one thing will still be the same...

This time next week, you will still be as special and as loved as the day you were born. For now and for always, my sweet boy you will be. I love you!!

Mommy

happy valentines day

I am blessed to have 2 men in my life that have always done a wonderful job of making me feel special.

My very first Valentine was my dad. It's amazing that someone who was raised in a family of all boys could be so good at raising girls and making us feel special. Looking back, I remember Daddy/Daughter dates, the loudest voice in the crowd during my cheerleading days, and unexpected moments of advice. He's the reason I love my Heavenly Father so much and why I never settled when it came to dating. When the time came to walk me down the aisle, he did so without the Steve Martin antics in Father of the Bride. I know it was bittersweet for him, but let's be honest, he was only sad until he thought about the raise he was about to get. He is a blessing and I'm so thankful God made Pete Bauerlein my dad.

Luke is my second Valentine. The one I waited for for about 18 years.

No lie. 

To say he was worth the wait would be the understatement of the year. He is patient and kind. Gentle and humble, except for maybe when he's been proven right. He is the answer to all the prayers I prayed so long ago. But more importantly, he challenges me and smooths my rough edges. He always sees the best in me and believes I can do anything even when I doubt myself. I look at him and am reminded of many of the characteristics I love so much about Jesus.

Simply put, he is my best friend. The person that can make me laugh like no one else, push my buttons like no one else, and love the good and bad like no one else. Together we've faced the ups and downs of life, and through it all our marriage has been made stronger. After almost 7 years of mood-swings-without-warning, sleep-deprivation-due-to-having-kids, and more-things-on-our-to-do-list-than-we-have-time, he is still one of the best things to ever happen to me.

So to my favorite I say:

I love you more and more everyday!!

Love never gives up.

Love cares more for others than for self.

Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.

Love doesn't strut,

Doesn't have a swelled head,

Doesn't force itself on others,

Isn't always "me first,"

Doesn't fly off the handle,

Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,

Doesn't revel when others grovel,

Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,

Puts up with anything,

Trusts God always,

Always looks for the best,

Never looks back,

But keeps going to the end.

1 Corinthians 13:4-7

some thoughts on winter

I have never been so cold for an extended period of time in. my. life. Let's be honest. Part of the appeal of moving down to south Texas was that IT DOESN'T GET THAT COLD HERE! And yes, being closer to family was an added bonus. Here's something I bet you never knew: you can get cabin fever without millions of feet of snow that result in thousands of snow days.

It's called windchill, people, and I'm just not a fan of getting in my car and going anywhere when it feels like -19. Ok. Maybe that was a tad dramatic since my friends up north are actually experiencing those temperatures. My condolences. I wouldn't last a day in that kind of weather. It's like my friend Andrea said:

It's like winter got into a big vat of Muscle Milk.

Truer words were never spoken. 

Scarves are my new BFFs since all my super warm coats won't zip anymore. You'd think being about 8 months pregnant would keep you a little warmer than everyone else. Think again.

When we went to visit Britt and Jon in Boston over Thanksgiving, we got to do a lantern tour in Plymouth. You know, in honor of the Pilgrims. That particular day was extremely windy; therefore, making the 40 degree temps feel more like -40. And no, this time I'm not exaggerating. I remember thinking,

I sure am glad it doesn't get this cold in San Antonio!

Turns out jokes on me because apparently it can get that cold in San Antonio. So here I am having flashbacks to Plymouth and the lantern tour that felt like it would never end. I will say that my favorite part of that evening was seeing Britt wrap her scarf around her head like a little babushka because she didn't think she'd need a hat. Jon did too, in case you were wondering. And then, being the amazing uncle that he is, pushed an empty umbrella stroller around the town since Austin decided to have a meltdown which resulted in Luke carrying him. {aaand a really long runon sentence} It may sound like we didn't have fun, but surprisingly we did. I think it was all the jokes and memories we came away with after enduring the bitter cold. We even outlasted the family from Minnesota.

I guess the moral of the story is that you can still have fun and make memories in the bitter cold...like teaching your son how to make a snowball after it snows in San Antonio. Still I have one thing to say to Winter 2011:

Dial it down. Nobody likes a one-upper.

Stay warm, friends!!

this too shall pass

I would love to tell you that I'll get better about blogging more regularly, but that would be a lie. And if I'm gonna put my son in time out for lying, then I better not do it either.

Just sayin'...

Life is good here at The Keiffer House. Despite fighting head colds and allergies, I'd say we're enjoying the fact that life has slowed down a little since the holidays. Not being able to travel will force you to do that, you know. Now if we could just get Austin's new room and Brooke's first {or is it her second??} room finished, I would feel like we're ready for baby #2.

I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to see baby stuff around our house again. I guess I really had forgotten how tiny Austin was at one time. In fact, I went through some of his old, old clothes and was amazed and how easily the memories associated with each little outfit came flooding back. Time flies and before you know it, you're registering your first born for pre-school. I can't even think about it or I'll have a meltdown that involves the Ugly Cry. And no one, I mean NO ONE, looks good doing The Ugly Cry.

 I'm just so thankful for my little guy! So here's another letter telling him just that.

Dear Austin:

It hit me the other day that in 2 months, it won't just be the three of us anymore. While I can't wait to meet our sweet baby Brooke, part of me is a little sad to close this chapter of you and me.

It doesn't seem possible that three years could go by so fast! It seems like just yesterday, we were making our first trip to Target together. I was so nervous about how it would go, but you slept through the whole adventure. That's ok. Since then, you've developed an appreciation for the Dollar Spot that would make any mom proud!

I will never forget the moment that I truly became your mom. We were at the doctor and the nurse had to prick your heel to take some blood. You were crying. I was crying. Thank goodness the nurse didn't cry! I knew in that moment that I would do anything for you. I knew that for better or worse, a piece of me would always be tied to you. When you rejoice, I will rejoice with you. When you weep, I will weep with you.

In just a couple of short months, our world and family will change, but one thing will remain the same and that is the depth of your daddy and my love for you! You are everything we never imagined God would give us. Everything about you brings us such joy and laughter. You really are the gift that God promised you would be.

I love that I can see glimpses of other family members in you. It makes me feel closer to those that are far away. I love the way you make up songs about whatever is on your mind. It reminds me so much of the days that your Aunt Brittany would sing her "original" songs. She still has a song in her heart and I hope you always will too. I love your sweet spirit and tender heart. They bring a smile to my face because they remind me of your Grammy and Great-Granny. I love that you have a strong sense of right and wrong. You are such a rule follower and that definitely comes from your Aunt Claire and Gigi. Your joy and zest for life is the very picture of your Papa B. You entertain us like your Uncle Josh, and you love to talk to Jesus just like your Uncle Jon, Uncle Jared and Pops. You have a very determined spirit when trying to do new things and that reminds me of your Aunt Lindsay.

But more than anything, I love seeing glimpses of your Daddy in you. You are patient and forgiving just like he is. You are an observer and hardly miss a thing, which means you are always asking questions. You're an early riser. That is definitely a trait you get from your Daddy. You are loyal to your family and love unconditionally. These are perhaps the character qualities I love most about your Daddy, and it brings my heart great joy to see them in you. The two of you are buddies. I pray you never stop wanting to be just like your daddy because he is the best example here on earth of your Heavenly Daddy.

And speaking of your Heavenly Father, I pray that you will accept Him as your Savior at an early age. My desire for you is that you would come to know Him intimately and seek to glorify and please Him daily. I pray that as you face the troubles of this life, that you will remember that you are more than a conquerer because He has already won the victory! He loves you more than we ever could. As deep as our love is for you, it is still a poor picture of how wide and how deep God's love is for you. 

These last three years have been some of the best of my life. You are a daily reminder that life is full of seasons and all too quickly "this too shall pass." Thank you for being patient with us as we try to do this parenting thing the best we can. You are precious to us and one of our greatest treasures! We love doing life with you, but more importantly, we love you.

Love:
Mommy


Proverbs 24:3-4

By wisdom a house is built,

and through understanding it is established;
through knowledge its rooms are filled
with rare and beautiful treasures.

into every life...

...a little rain must fall.

It's hard for me to believe that 2010 is over. In some ways, I'm sad but in others I'm relieved.

This time last year, we were in Dallas at the Cottonbowl. Austin was only 2 and my sister and her husband lived just a few hours away. Luke and I had no idea when God would add to our family nor did we have any idea what was in store for our families.

Looking back at the last year, I'm very aware of the fact that 2010 was full of more changes than I anticipated or even realized at the time. Now, if you've known me for any length of time, then you know that change and I get along about as well as Tom and Jerry. Unfortunately, change is a part of life and God is constantly teaching me how to accept it gracefully.

If you're wondering how that's going, let's just say I'm a work in progress.

At the beginning of this year, life was a little more carefree. A little easier to take for granted. Definitely a little less fragile.

I'll be the first to tell you that Luke and I are blessed beyond what we deserve. Sometimes I feel like our lives are too good to be true. I admit that there are times I find myself expecting God to take it all away the next day.

And then I fearfully obsess over little things and nearly drive Luke completely insane. Please tell me you do the same from time to time. If not, then just lie.

If there's one thing God has used the circumstances of this year- good and bad- to teach me, it's that I'm not, nor have I ever been, in control. What did that feel like coming out of my mouth?

Like vinegar.

Contrary to the belief of those of us that live in South Texas, rain will come. The unexpected will happen. Sisters will move far away. Situations will arise that force you to trust the only One you know to be in control.

For some reason, this Christmas didn't feel quite as magical and wonderous as it usually does. Maybe it's the pregnancy hormones, but I definitely felt a little weighed down by the stress and changes of the last year. As I was inviting the Lord to my pity party, He gently reminded me of this:

When the rains come, growth happens. When the troubles of this world knock us to our knees, we come face to face with a God who has not forgotten, but loves us enough to let the refining happen.

And once the storms have passed, we appreciate the sun and carefree moments so much more.

Let us acknowledge the LORD; let us press on to acknowledge him. As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.

Hosea 6:3

He has promised...

I know. It's been forever since I've blogged. I'm blaming it on the pregnancy, which my mom will claim is my fifth time to pull the Pregnant Card. To which I say, it's actually the third and compared to some women, I'd say I'm doing pretty good at not being "that pregnant girl!"

It's good to have moms that keep your reality in check, isn't it? My mom is so good, she can give me a look...or complete silence...and I know EXACTLY what she's thinking! It's a blessing and a curse, really. I hope to master that talent someday.

But I digress.

Luke and I went through some of my "keepsake boxes" yesterday. And by boxes, I mean four or five MOVING boxes. It's funny what you deem Keepsake Worthy when you're in elementary, middle, and high school. And by funny, I mean sad and pathetic. Can someone just praise Him with me right now that I'm not the girl I used to be back then?! I won't give details, but what I will tell you is that somewhere along the way I thought it would be a good idea to keep my diary...

And then let Luke read it...

I'm not saying that someone slipped something in my drink at lunch to make me think that was a good idea....I'm just sayin' it's possible.

As I sat there going through hundreds of notes from friends, birthday cards, and pictures...OH THE PICTURES!...I realized that Keepsake Boxes are really only good for one thing besides complete and total embarassment.

Reflection.

From the moment we found out there was going to be a Keiffer #4 in our not so distant future, we have been trying to figure out what to name our baby. What we learned is that we like simple, traditional names that aren't too terribly common. Unfortunately, the majority of our aunts, uncles, and cousins feel the same way and have used some of our favorite names. We discussed millions of possibilities. Basically, I thought of names with potential and Luke vetoed most of them.

We finally settled on the middle name for each. Allyn for a boy {a combination of my dad and Luke's dad} and Elizabeth for a girl.

I debated for a long time on the middle name for a little girl. At first, I thought Faith. Then Joy. And like any other woman, I changed my mind again because if we were going to have a little girl, I wanted her to have my middle name. I felt bad because the other 2 choices seemed to have so much more significance to the season of life our family has been in lately. Not to mention that they are character traits we pray for both of our children. The good news was that I could still change my mind, but in the meantime, I decided to research what the meaning of the name "Elizabeth" was. I've always known what my first and last name meant but not my middle name. There's nothing like having a baby to get you all fired up about the meaning of a name.

If you're familiar with the Christmas story, then you've probably heard about Elizabeth, mother of John the Baptist and cousin of Mary. The mother of Jesus. You may know Him. He's kind of a big deal. She was also the woman whose husband questioned an angel name Gabriel...so God hit the mute button. Elizabeth, on the other hand, gave immediate praise to God for the miracle He had done. {Luke 1} I guess I would have too if my prayers consisted of asking God for a baby along with a miracle cure for gray hair.

Once you've read the story, it probably won't surprise you that Elizabeth means "God's promise." Suddenly, that middle name seemed much more fitting.

My life {much like yours, I'm sure} has been filled with God's promises. Yesterday, while going through The Boxes, I realized that so many of those promises have already been fulfilled.

He promised that He would never leave me or forsake me...even if others did. I may not have the same friends I did back in elementary, middle, or high school but I still have Jesus walking right beside me every step of the way.

He promises only the best for me...even if it's different from my version of The Best. Well, gosh, all you have to do is read notes passed back and forth between high school girls just sure their lives were the only ones full of drama and disappointment.

He promised that if I would put Him first, He would grant the desires of my heart... Enter Luke. Best. Promise. Fulfilled. Ever!!

He promised that Austin would be a gift. Second. Best. Promise. Ever!!

I could go on, but I think you get my drift.

Two years ago, I began praying that God would give us a little girl next. I knew my chances were 50/50. Obviously. But Luke is from a family of all boys. My dad is from a family of all boys. My mom has a brother. Luke's dad has 4. Luke's mom has 2.

I think you understand why I chose to believe in the power of prayer.

Praying for a little girl became more of me pouring the desire of my heart out to the Lord, while at the same time believing with total confidence that His will is ALWAYS best...girl or boy! I wish I could explain the feelings that came next but I honestly wouldn't do them justice. Let's just say that whenever I would picture a Keiffer family of four, there was always a little girl in our midst.

Lord! I prayed, Please protect me from wishful thinking! I want to be thrilled no matter what!!

Even still, I continued to feel a connection with this little girl in my mind. I began to feel like I already knew her and loved her as much as Austin.

When we found out I was officially pregnant, God promised me that this baby {timing and everything} would be a blessing and a reward. Our joy that would come in the morning. I felt like God continued to tell me in little unexpected ways that He would grant the desire of my heart.

And still, I had a hard time believing it.

On October 26th we found out that the next little Keiffer would be a girl.

And on December 5th we decided to name her Brooke Elizabeth Keiffer.

Because He promised.

Thanks be to God for His indescribable gift!

2 Corinthians 9:15

His miracles are unforgettable...

Psalm 111:4