Recipe for change

August 22nd, 2016

We we warned that jumping into the world of foster care would change us. I just don’t think I could’ve realized how many layers that change would strip away and reconfigure and shift, making it impossible to ever go back to our “before”. From big things like our faith, marriage, and parenting decisions to little things like this neglected blog space. We’ve been given a glimpse of where and with whom God’s heart beats strongest and we simply cannot go back to the days of spending the bulk of our waking thoughts on wall colors and perfect meringue recipes. We’re still trying to make sense of what this perspective shift means for our family and how it merges with our “before”, but what we know for sure is that we feel like we’re right where God wants us… clinging to Him with our eyes pointed toward the mess and hurting.

When our daughter came to us as a scared and anxious 8 month old emergency foster placement, we only had two hours to prepare. Two hours to run around getting diapers, clothes, bottles, baby food, and other necessities for this baby we knew nothing about. We spent the majority of that first week carting her around town to stock up on all of the things we were missing and scheduling all of the required appointments. In hindsight, this should’ve been a time for her to decompress, get to know us, and start building a foundation of safety and security in our home. We turned down help from our amazing friends and neighbors because we thought we knew what we were doing.

Since then we’ve learned about the critical importance of attachment, bonding, and trauma-informed care for these kids who have been uprooted from their homes, often coming from already extremely difficult circumstances. We’ve had the chance to get to know dozens of foster families and the precious kiddos in their care. We hear the same stories of feeling isolated and “needing a village” from just about every family. We’ve also noticed that there are countless folks who want to help these children and families but don’t know where to start.

Earlier this year we decided to do something about this. It started as a small passion project, bringing meals and encouragement to foster families, and it has since snowballed into a bonafide non-profit organization. When we opened it up to the community, people came out of the woodworks saying they want to do something. Community donations have poured in and a local storage facility is allowing us to use one of their giant spaces to store donations for foster families. We’re able to deliver these donations in the form of “Welcome Packs” to help alleviate the need for families to run around trying to gather stuff for these children who often come with very few belongings.

We’re still in a haze of disbelief and gratitude as we watch this new baby, Foster Village , come to life but we’re mostly just excited to see where God takes it. I hope you’ll take some time to visit the website and follow along on social media to learn more about it!


Along with the call to come alongside other foster families, our hearts have also been turned inside out for the thousands of kids who are aging out of the foster system every day. We’ve heard first hand experiences from our daughter’s birth mom who aged out of foster care and our eyes and ears have been opened to the alarming statistics. It’s estimated that roughly 50% of these kids will end up homeless, 50% unemployed, and 60% of the girls will become pregnant within a few years (source: Not to mention the fact that, statistically, 1 in 4 eventually end up in prison (source: National Resource for Family and Policy Connections).

These statistics are not evidence of bad kids, they are evidence of a society that is failing its most vulnerable children. 

But how can we do better? I truly believe that the most important first steps involve listening, observing, and engaging with these kids to better understand what it’s like to walk in their shoes. We need to actually come alongside them, not just throw more laws and money at the problem. We don’t all have the opportunity to connect with these kids in tangible ways, but we do have the technology today to make it possible for everyone to sit down and listen and come up with more informed ideas of how we can do better.

I was recently contacted by Barry Thornburg, a Denton-based filmmaker, letting me know about an amazing project he’s working on that will make this very thing possible. Barry is creating a documentary to show how “meaningful relationships with responsible adults is the distinguishing factor between foster youth who thrive as adults and those that do not”. Good gravy, this makes so much sense, you guys. This documentary will be a window into the real life of a young man, Donovan, as he navigates his way into the adult world after aging out of foster care. This is an invitation to better understand the lives of these kids who need us most.


“The audience will intimately observe the intricacies of these decisions and how adults from different parts of his life get involved, for better or for worse.
What makes this film unique is that it draws upon his personal perspective. In addition to observational footage of him (gathered by a film crew), he is also given a camera in which he can record things that he thinks should be included in the film and giving him an opportunity to explain his decisions in his own words. This behind-the-scenes perspective can empower those in a position to mentor with empathy and understanding when interacting with people in Donovan’s shoes.
Whether it is finances, health care, transportation, employment or education choices, Donovan does not have the luxury of a traditional family support structure to guide him every step of the way or catch him when he falls. Social workers, medical professionals, educators and volunteers all have exceptional opportunities to mentor and guide youth and young adults in situations like Donovan’s because of their frequent exposure to them. This documentary will show us how they work with Donovan and how he responds to each.
This can change perceptions of foster youth, influencing child welfare policy, training and education, and encouraging responsible adults to mentor these newly emerging adults.”- Life Project

Barry plans on using this documentary to be a resource for the general population as well as professionals and lawmakers who are making decisions on behalf of these kids aging out. He’s also designed a lesson plan to accompany the documentary that will undoubtedly stir up life-changing conversations.

I encourage every single one of you reading this to go watch the short clip about this documentary and to support Barry’s efforts as you feel called. And please visit his kickstarter page to learn about ways to join the project. I feel so honored to be able to share this with you all!

“This can change perceptions of foster youth, influencing child welfare policy, training and education, and encouraging responsible adults to mentor these newly emerging adults.”- Barry Thornburg


Someday I may come back to this space with a burning desire to share recipes, wellness tips, and wall colors. But for now I am thankful for those of you willing to join us on this journey of exploring the deeper cries of our family’s heart. Sometimes it’s the best we have to offer.

Open (an honest glimpse of our open adoption)

February 16th, 2016


A few times each month we drive a couple towns over to spend time with our daughter’s birth mom. We don’t have to, but we get to. We go bowling or to the library or to a park and always out to eat somewhere (food is our shared love language- God knew). A couple weeks ago we picked her up and took the whole family to see Kung Fu Panda 3 at an old movie theater near her home. Our kids were all fans of the other Kung Fu Panda movies, so I thought it’d be a good crowd-pleaser for our whole gang. Now, hear me say this: I had no idea what this movie was about. I didn’t even know what the other Kung Fu Panda movies were about, because I’m no fool and if my kids are watching a movie that is my time to do other things. Like the title suggests, I just expected animated pandas doing kung fu stuff and funny Jack Black one-liners. What I did not expect is that it would basically be two hours of cartoon animals acting out some of my deepest insecurities, surely mocking me. All while I was trapped in front of the giant screen in a dark musty theater with my whole family and daughter’s mother sitting beside me. There was no escaping and no calling my therapist to talk me through it. The awkwardness level was immeasurable.

About 10 minutes into the movie, it became increasingly obvious that Kung Fu Panda 3 is more about adoption, identity, and acceptance than it is about pandas doing kung fu. Who knew. The fine folks of DreamWorks are taking animation to a whole new level. Without spoiling the whole movie, I’ll just say this: watching the delicate and tricky dynamic between a birth panda dad and an adoptive goose dad (just stay with me here for a minute), while sitting next to my daughter and her birth mother… made me feel awfully, shall we say, goose-ish. And sweaty and squirmy and exposed and possibly Punk’d as the plot line unfolded. The panda dad and goose dad both vying for the dad role as if only one of them could be the real dad. Both goose and panda gripped with fear over the potential of losing his son to the other parent. Both feeling unsure of his role and where each person, er animal, fit into the relationship. Thankfully, the movie ended up coming together with a beautiful message of togetherness and a one-big-happy-family vibe. And I didn’t die from the awkwardness, praise Jesus.

I won’t pretend to have this whole open adoption thing figured out. Some days I think surviving Kung Fu Panda 3 as one big happy family is about as far as I’ve come. Along with embracing those uncomfortable moments when our daughter calls me “mommy” and her birth mom “mama L” while we’re out in public and the confused stares beg for an explanation. And those times when I don’t know how to answer questions like “how old was she when you got her ears pierced?” or “does she look like her dad?”. It’s been made so clear to us, contrary to the advice of multiple well-meaning boundary-advocates, that God is instead calling us to let love lead the way and just take it one day at a time. No contingencies or long term guidelines laid out. Just reasonable expectations of each other, healthy communication (lots of it), and mutual respect. We are being sensitive and empathetic to our daughter and her sweet attachment to the brave woman who brought her into this world and taking most of our cues from her. And we remind ourselves that we’re all on the same team, this is not a competition of who’s the MVP (most valuable parent). She loves her girl just as fiercely as we do. And while it can be messy, it’s also incredibly humbling and sanctifying to allow our daughter to be loved from every direction. To hold her with open hands and know that she is actually His anyway. And He’s given her a whole team of folks to love her.

I’m often asked if it’s hard. And I will always answer YES. It’s a relationship, not a contract or business arrangement or obligation that is easily lined out. We have no spreadsheets for visits and phone calls. There is no handbook for this. Similar to how marriage and friendships and parenting and all relationships with other humans are hard, this kind of relationship is certainly no exception. It’s hard like all of the very best things in life that require us to peel back the layers of discomfort and be vulnerable in order to grow closer and deeper and learn from one another. It’s the kind of hard that is good and exactly what God was talking about when He said “Judge not, that you be not judged” (Matthew 7:1). Truly unconditional love and acceptance, both in the giving and in the receiving. So hard but so good.

Our open adoption is different than most in that our daughter didn’t come to us at birth. Adoption was not part of the plan her birth mother had for her. She did her very best at raising her on her own for nearly nine months. She loves her child no less than any devoted mother reading this, and she understands the sacrificial love of motherhood more deeply than most of us can even comprehend. I’ve talked to her on the phone daily as she’s walked through the unimaginable storm of losing her only child, and the depth of compassion and admiration I have for her has brought me to my knees more times than I can count. And while she is no longer the one raising her on a daily basis like she had dreamed of, she is still very much a mother to our girl. Yes, the circumstances that led to our daughter coming into foster care are heartbreaking (and because the dignity and privacy of her and her birth mother are more important than sharing a powerful story, I choose not to go into those sensitive details here). But our daughter’s story, difficult parts and all, has zero pages where there was a lack of love. The hard reality is that life and parenting are far more complicated than just loving our children with all our hearts. We have no doubt our daughter is right where she belongs and we are so blown away that God chose us, but we cannot deny the scars adoption left in it’s wake. And we’ve been given an amazing opportunity to nurture and tend to those scars alongside the woman who chose life time and again for our daughter.

So we find ourselves on a quest to find redemption and beauty amidst the hard truth of the heartbreak and devastating loss that preceded this adoption that we are so thankful for. It’s all of the extremes of emotions, intertwined. This incredible gift came with a hefty price tag that was paid for by a woman who is brave enough to face the hard reality of her diminished dream and try to make the best of it day after day. Our precious baby girl, who we thank God for every single moment, wasn’t dropped at our door by a magical stork. She has important chapters to her story that don’t include us. Chapters that include both brokenness and joy. And while I’d like to pretend like her story begins the day she was placed in our eager loving arms, it’s simply not the truth. So we do our best to learn about and embrace those other chapters that we are not a part of and thank the Lord for giving us access to those parts of her story, knowing that so many families don’t have the privilege of hearing their child’s history. And we pray for the wisdom and discernment about when and how and from whom she will someday hear about those chapters.

I suspect having an open adoption will always be tricky and require more grace than we could ever muster on our own. I also suspect that not having an open adoption would always be tricky and grace-dependent. And I know that there is an abundance of growth and endless gifts in the type of adoption that God has allowed us to be a part of. I’ve learned more about the anatomy of grace through this adoption than perhaps any other season in my life. I’ve learned to be more flexible, trusting, humble, and dependent on my faith. I’ve seen the ugliest parts of my heart and beg God to bust through those dark, hardened corners. I’ve tested my limits of unconditional love and acceptance and found that those limits are self-imposed and a waste of energy. I’ve gained a sister mom who looks at our daughter with the same eyes of boundless adoration and never-ending love. A friend who never tires of hearing about every single milestone and daily adventure of our precious quirky girl. Someone who knows just how exquisite and beloved and miraculous my (our) daughter is.

I’ve learned to embrace my goose-ishness. And like Mr. Ping (the adoptive goose dad in Kung Fu Panda 3) said to Mr. Li ( the birth panda dad), “having you in (our child’s) life doesn’t mean less for me, it means more for (our child)”. And deep down I know that it also means so much more for me and the rest of our family as well.

So when folks ask about our open adoption I will tell them that it’s hard and messy like all relationships, and that we are blessed with more. More love, more connection, more history, and more grace to walk us through it… one day at a time.

A Year to Remember

December 31st, 2015

Twenty Fifteen, you rocked us good. I’ve been so wrapped up in this year and all of the growing and unfolding that blogging fell far down my to-do list. Certainly not for lack of things to write about, though. It’s been a good, eventful, growth-filled year.

A noteworthy part of 2015 was all of the family adventures that we packed in. In the spring, we took a trip to Washington to witness our dear friends’ vow renewal and their sons’ baptism. Nick and I were also baptized in those same frigid Pacific Ocean waters, surrounded by amazing friends (and a couple bald eagles!!), during that sacred trip. And then our annual summer road trip took us through several states, including stops in Yellowstone, Mt. Rushmore, and a family meet-up in Arizona. In the fall, we spent 10 days at my mom’s in California for Thanksgiving, catching up with family and friends out there. We logged in quite a few miles and memories with loved ones in 2015.

The real adventure of 2015, though, was finalizing the adoption of our precious girl. Eighteen months after she was placed in our arms, the court recognized what our hearts already knew. She is home. A legally official forever Smith. There were so many twists and turns to get us to November 4th when everything was finalized, and I think it will still take awhile before the reality of it fully sinks in. We are just so profoundly grateful that God entrusted us with this treasured child. And we are so humbled and amazed by the strength and selflessness of her birth mom who we continue to have a very close relationship with. We know that adoption is so much more than one day in court and that, in many ways, the journey is just beginning, but we feel peace in knowing Who is behind the wheel. He reassured us of that time and time again this past year.

smiths-best2(photo credit: Wildflowers Photography)

We were given several tentative court dates over the course of the year before we made it to that final one. Just like foster care, things rarely went as planned. And our patience and faith were stretched and tested and strengthened with each little set back. We finally got an official court date with our names on the docket and everything, set for October 30th. A for sure adoption date. We planned, anticipated, and counted down to that big day. We woke up before the sun that 30th, got everyone dressed up, and loaded up the cars in the pouring rain (my dearest friend, Joy, her four young kiddos, and her ripe pregnant belly were staying with us that week as they transitioned for their big move to Texas- another huge celebratory event for our family in 2015- so it was a fun little circus situation we had). As we started on the forty minute drive to the court house we realized this was more than just a typical rain storm. It was sheets of water, flash floods, thunder and lightning, and inches/feet of water on the roads. At one point we had an entire tree lodged underneath our giant SUV. It was driving insanity. Roads were closing left and right, there were reports that a tornado touched down near the courthouse, and I was getting calls and texts from the various legal parties saying they weren’t able to leave their homes due to the weather. But we pressed on because there was no turning back at that point. Our rockstar (crazy?) attorney kept floating along too, and said that as long as it’s us and the judge there we can make it work. So onward we went with our two cars packed full of precious cargo. Determined that this was our day. Our two oldest boys were in the car with Joy and they all took turns praying and calming the little ones. I was texting her every five minutes “please don’t go into labor” and “tell me if this is too much”. As we miraculously approached the road to the courthouse, we noticed that the few other cars reckless enough to be on the road ahead of us were all stopped. We were able to get close enough to see that the intersection we needed to turn at was completely underwater. There was an empty car stuck in the middle of the river-ish intersection, surely just there to mock us. I had a perfect view of the courthouse out my window. We were SO close. I felt like we had made it so far, the months leading up to this plus the insane drive getting there… we needed to get there. After waiting it out for quite some time, we decided to hold our breath, pray, and risk the drive through the intersection. By the grace of God, both of our cars made it through without getting stuck. We pulled into the empty and flooded courthouse parking lot, unloaded our hot mess express, and scurried in through the rain. THIS WAS HAPPENING. We made it through what felt like hellfire and brimstone, we were on the docket, and rumor was the judge had never missed a hearing. It was happening. As we approached security, there was only a couple employees there and they looked at us like the bunch of loons that we were. ‘How did you get here… why did you get here’, their faces begged. And then they broke the news… “all court hearings have been canceled for today”. My heart sank and the frustration boiled up. We had such high hopes and plans for this being the day that we could finally call her ours. The last eighteen months of loving this precious girl, surely it wasn’t all leading up to this soggy, anticlimactic day in a courthouse. As we stood there processing, I was holding her and she laid her head on my shoulder. I paused and felt her weight. And smelled her hair. And felt her little arm wrapped around my neck. And realized how completely silly I was. She was already ours.

We loaded up our circus on wheels and made it to the nearest Chick-fil-A with an indoor playscape. All of us dressed for a big day in court (or funeral?), we camped out with our waffle fries until the worst of the storm passed. It took us what felt like days to make it home. We turned our living room into a movie lounge and ate frozen foods and birthday cake to celebrate the birthday of Joy’s precious son. I sulked and learned and leaned, knowing that God was growing me that day.

That next week, we were told that it could be weeks before we would be able to schedule another court date since November is Adoption Awareness Month and everybody would be scheduling their adoptions then. I wrestled with feeling weary and defeated, and patient and trusting. Life went on as usual as we waited to find out a new date. Nick was scheduled to fly out of town that Tuesday for a work trip. He left early that morning and drove through the rarely-seen-in-Texas thick fog to the airport. After he made it through security and waited to board his flight, they announced that his flight was canceled. Not delayed, canceled. He spoke to the attendant at the desk and she said that she’s never seen it in the 20+ years of her job, but basically there were no other flights to New York that day. The unusual fog was grounding the only planes that were headed there. They were rescheduling flights pretty much everywhere else, just not New York. Nick was left with no choice but to head home. He called to tell me as I was getting the kids off to school. We chalked it up to another thing that didn’t go as we’d planned that week. My mom was staying with us (she was on a quick trip out for our adoption party, another thwarted plan) and we decided to go for a walk. As we were walking, the sun started to peek through, and the skies were clear within twenty or so minutes. I shook my head knowing that Nick’s flight was just canceled but, hello, no more fog. And then I noticed Nick calling me on my cell phone again. He said that right after he pulled away from the airport, he got a call from our adoption attorney. He was calling to see if there was any way we could possibly make it to court the next morning… there was an unexpected opening for us to go before the judge. Nick told him that he was supposed to be in New York tomorrow, but as it turned out, his schedule was suddenly wide open. God writes the best plot twists.

That next morning, on November 4th, with Nick not in New York, we got our court date. My mom and brother were both in town from California and were able to be there, along with dearest friends, and our girl’s whole team of awesome workers. It was a beautifully sunny day, not a cloud in the sky. 555 days from that day when we first held her in our arms. A few people mentioned to us that, in the bible, the number five symbolizes God’s grace. 555 days. Grace upon grace upon grace. Yes. A tiny little detail that felt like such an intentional nod from the greatest Author. A reminder of how very present and intentional He has been throughout her entire story. What a huge and humbling reality to know that we have the privilege of being a part of this masterpiece He is writing.


In some ways nothing has changed since that adoption finalization. And in some ways everything has.  We move into 2016 with overflowing gratitude and hopeful expectancy. The growth that we’ve experienced this year is unlike anything we could have been prepared for. It’s taught us to let go and trust more. I can’t wait to see what 2016 has up it’s sleeve.

smiths-best3(photo credit: Wildflowers Photography)

Cheers to a new year and new adventures, loved ones!


Road Trip 2015

August 25th, 2015

So. I had big plans of blogging a few posts all about our epic summer road trip, with all of the fun and gritty details included. And then the four kids who were home 24/7 for summer took up all of my minutes, leaving no room for blogging. As it turns out, toddlers and blogging don’t mix in this house.

So in an effort to record the basic and most important details, like where we went and what it looked like, I give you the very rushed, condensed, all-the-pictures overview of what was an exhaustingly glorious trip (note that I didn’t call it a vacation).

This trip was without question the trip of a lifetime for our family. We trekked just over 5,000 miles through 11 states within 15 days and saw some of God’s most miraculous creations. He was surely in the zone when He created places like Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons. There are simply no words or photos to do it justice.

We stayed in a travel trailer that we towed, loaded up with about 1,000 pounds (or so) of food to get our ravenous dietary-restricted-family through two weeks on the road. We mapped our stops out ahead of time so that we would spend no more than 6-8 hours in the car per day since that seems to be the limit of what our crew can tolerate. We’d stop every 2-3 hours for potty breaks and to let the kiddos run around and burn off the 20 million (or so) snacks they were consuming in the car. We also tried to pack in as many sights as possible because when you travel that far, it feels wrong to not see it all.

On our first day, we made the eight our drive to Lubbock, TX. Texas is so big that it takes pretty much a whole day to get out of it in any direction. So big. Lubbock has become one of our traditional stop points for most of our road trips in that direction. It’s not much for scenery, but they have a fun retro drive-in movie theater that we go to every time we’re there. Warm Texas summer nights at the drive-in are the bees knees.


The next day, we headed out of Lubbock bright and early and set out for the cooler temps of Colorado Springs, CO. Except, as it turned out, it was actually warmer than Texas that week. Go figure.



Sister had the chance to experience her first roasted marshmallows and s’mores. She went for the blackened marshmallow version. Because fire.


We spent our one morning in Colorado Springs hiking and bird watching. I’m convinced these cute children are part mountain goat.


From Colorado Springs, we headed up to the Denver area. My dear friend, Kim, lives there with her family and our other childhood friend, Whitney, happened to be visiting that week as well. So we were able to have the perfect little reunion with all of our growing families. We’ve been sister friends since we were a bunch of scrappy 12 year olds, so to be gathered all of these years later with all of our babies was pretty surreal.


From Denver we powered straight through to Black Hills, South Dakota. The drive there was beautiful and we were pleasantly surprised with how stunning the scenery in South Dakota is. We tried to capture a bit of it from the super cool Mt. Rushmore KOA campground with a self timer on my cell phone. This was in between runs down the mountainside waterslide, hence Nick looking like a nude mountain man. Settle down, he’s wearing swim trunks. Family photos are hard to capture, but always a treasure.

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We went early the next morning to beat the crowds to Mount Rushmore (hence the squinty morning eyes). It was such a neat history lesson for the whole family. IMG_8421.JPG IMG_8358.JPG IMG_8423.JPG IMG_8365.JPG IMG_8362.JPG The big boys are really into bird watching these days so we invested in some decent binoculars for them and they were able to find a variety of birds throughout our trip.

From Mt. Rushmore, we went on to Cody, Wyoming. It’s right outside of Yellowstone Park, but it was about as far as we could go in one day so we just set up camp there for the night and headed into Yellowstone bright and early the next day.

Yellowstone National Park is simply… otherworldly. There is so much beauty, wonder, and jaw-dropping scenery throughout the massive park. It was the first time anyone in our family had been. I strongly recommend that it be added to every American’s family bucket list.  IMG_8537.JPG IMG_8586.JPG IMG_8539.JPG IMG_8606.JPG IMG_8638.JPG IMG_8628.JPG IMG_8679.JPG IMG_8739.JPG IMG_9058.JPGSpending my birthday (4th of July) sleeping under the stars in Yellowstone with my favorite people was the best birthday gift a momma could ask for.

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During our four days there, we did lots of hiking, swimming in the river, bird and animal watching, and driving to the various must-see spots throughout the park. IMG_9341.JPG IMG_9342.JPG IMG_9479.JPG IMG_9344.JPG IMG_9343.JPG IMG_9351.JPG IMG_9516.JPGIMG_1298-0.jpgThe kiddos were troopers and even hiked down hundreds of steps so we could see the most amazing view of the lower falls. The hike back up was no joke. And Nick secured his title as a pack mule by carrying not one, but two extra little humans up the never-ending staircase. Hiking with little ones should be classified as an ‘extreme sport’.

The younger boys decided to earn their junior ranger badges and both passed their tests with the ranger, taking home real badges as official Junior Rangers. It’s a great program that the park offers (you can find info at any of the ranger stations… we had the best experience at Canyon Village).
IMG_9574.JPGThese two best bros were amazing nature guides for our family. They blow me away with their walking-encyclopedia brains. I’m so glad they have the patience to explain all.the.things to their rapidly aging and forgetful mother. 


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There were bison everywhere. Especially in the roads. Massively beautiful beasts.

From Yellowstone, we traveled down into Grand Teton National Park. We were so completely blown away by the beauty of this area. We saw dandelions the size of softballs, moose, and bears, oh my.
IMG_0200.JPGIMG_0190.JPGIMG_1256.JPGIMG_0196.JPGIMG_0225.JPGJackson Hole, WY is THE cutest little town and a definite must stop when traveling through the Grand Tetons.

From Wyoming, we headed for Salt Lake City, Utah. Along the way, we passed by the Young Living lavender farm. It was the perfect place to stop and have some of their lavender lemonade slushies and pay homage to the essential oil mecca that has changed our family’s life in awesome ways. IMG_0482.JPGWhen we made it to Salt Lake City, it was nearly sunset so we rallied the crew to go and see the Great Salt Lake before dark. I had read online that there are only a couple areas around the lake that are worth visiting, but of course those were the points that would take over an hour to get to. So we settled for the nearest spot to where we were camping. I preface with that because, well, it was stinky and bug infested. Like crazy stinky and crazy bug infested. So beautiful, but whoa.  We ate popsicles at lightning speed, laughed, and ran around trying to escape the swarms of gnats. Then we rushed back into the car to take deep breaths and wipe our itchy skin down with baby wipes. Memories were made.

IMG_0414.JPGIMG_0412.JPGFrom Salt Lake City, we headed down to Mesquite, Nevada.  Nick had a quick work meeting there and camping in Mesquite in the middle of summer is a tad toasty, so we decided to camp out at a casino resort and take advantage of a resort pool with a waterslide for the night. Even though natural swimming spots are our favorite, it sure was a treat to lounge around a resort pool for an evening.

The next day we headed down to Arizona where a lot of our extended family lives. We met up with Nick’s mom and his sister’s family and the cousins were able to catch up and play. It was a short but sweet visit with family.IMG_0625.JPG IMG_0631.JPGThat moment when you realize your baby is taller than his aunt. How does this happen?

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After a fun farewell brunch, we started making our way back to Texas. We spent a stormy night in New Mexico and woke up to glorious sunshine. So we packed up and headed to the White Sands National Monument. This place was the coolest. Just miles of snow-white sand hills to slide and sled and run down. We didn’t think to pack a sled in July, so we had to improvise.IMG_1290.JPG IMG_0966-0.jpg IMG_2299.JPG

Our next destination was the much buzzed about Marfa, Tx. I struggle with how to explain Marfa but it does certainly have a one-of-a-kind charm to it. It’s like a hipster-hillbilly ghost town. Of sorts. IMG_1250.JPG IMG_1127.JPG IMG_1124.JPG


We made our final trek home with countless memories, inside jokes, and mountains of dirty laundry. I describe our trip as Extreme Togethering. 15 days in extremely close quarters with nature’s most incredible backdrops, no escaping or checking out. I feel like we all got to know each other and ourselves better over those couple of weeks. Growing closer and more connected and better communicators. And many of our family conversations now include dreaming up plans for our next big adventure.

Welcome Home

May 1st, 2015


To Our Daughter,

This morning as I was driving, waiting with bated breath for your daddy to call with news from the court house, I heard your tiny voice singing softly from the backseat. My mind was racing and prayers were raging. And then your sweet toddler voice filled my ears and calmed my anxious heart, “jethus wuvs me dis I know, por da bibo tells me so…”. Stillness. Peace. Truth from a toddler. Yes, Jesus loves you, just as the bible tells us. Yes. And He has plans for you far beyond anything we could ever orchestrate or imagine.

IMG_3121For 368 days now you’ve been a part of our family… honestly, the center of our family. You came to us as an adorable yet anxious and cautious 8 month old, and you’ve blossomed into a charming, chatty, wild and free, joy-filled toddler with an old soul and eyes that tell a story of wisdom far beyond your 20 months. Today, a year since that warm spring day when you first rocked our world, we got the news that seemed too big to pray for. Today was confirmation that we will have the privilege, the honor, the joy of officially adopting you as our forever daughter. About 90 days from now (right around your second birthday), we will stand in the same courtroom where we grieved when we thought we were losing you, stand before that same judge, and vow to forever love you and raise you as if you were born to us. You’ve had our hearts since the first moment we held you in our arms, and now the state will recognize that you are home for good, officially a Smith. God has moved mountains to bring you to us and even more mountains to keep you here. We are beyond humbled and thankful that He chose us to love you forever.

And because God loves you so, He’s also opened our hearts wide to your courageous birth mama. She is just as much a part of our family as you are. She is an amazing woman with an incredible story. She loves you fiercely. The deep mama bear kind of love that never diminishes. She will continue to be a part of your life, our family. She will always be your mama. She holds a part of your story that belongs to just the two of you. A sacred bond that we will do our best to protect and cherish. You will be blessed with not one, but two mothers who are here to fight for you, walk through life with you, and love you with abandon. It’s been the best, most unexpected and complicated chapter of this story. The chapter we would’ve never known to pray for. For our family to grow by not one, but two incredible souls. We hope you take comfort in knowing that the greatest Love stories aren’t always the seamless and rosy ones, tied with the perfect bow of things-that-make-sense. Often times they’re the ones full of loss and brokenness and heartbreak, tied with beautiful strands of redemption and forgiveness. Never forget that Grace writes a more beautiful story than we ever could, sweet child.IMG_3123

And please know this, our precious daughter. You are beautiful and strong and you were fearfully and wonderfully made for a purpose. You have three parents and brothers and extended family and friends who will forever hold a special place in their hearts for you and pray for you daily. You are a daughter of the Most High and He will never forsake you. There’s bound to be heartache, mourning, and confusion from the broken circumstances that brought you to us and we will surely fall short at times… but we pray you always know that you are loved, and have always been loved, simply because you are worthy. And we are here to weather the storms, wipe the tears, answer the hard questions, and rejoice in redemption with you. Always follow the light, sweet girl. And when God extends you grace, grab hold and don’t let go. Your past and circumstances have little to do with who you are and everything to do with what will shape you and mold you into the strong and courageous woman you are destined to become. When the world seems too much to bear, tuck yourself in His arms and soak up the love, peace, and comfort He has waiting for you. Let that be your forever home more than anywhere else. 

There will never be adequate words to express how deeply you are loved and how elated we are to call you our daughter (and your adoring brothers’ sister… oh how they love you). We pray you feel it down to your soul, nonetheless. And we hope that when you look back at pictures and videos like the one below, you can see the love and adoration in our eyes. It’s always been there, even when we thought you were only ours for a short time. We’ve never been perfect with our love, but it’s always been deep and real and without condition. You are a gift and you are celebrated and you are beloved, our forever daughter.

Forever Yours,

Mommy and Daddy

Smith Family – Welcome Home Session from joy prouty on Vimeo.

(credit for images at top of post: Michelle Able Photography)


February 10th, 2015

Hey. Hi. Howdy, friends. I’m still here. Just listening.

I’ve found myself in a season of having more thoughts, feelings, and words than I know what to do with. Too much to blog, too much to say, too much to try to let pour out without the floodgates busting open and all of my words and thoughts and feelings being jumbled together into one giant mess of all.the.things. Life has been busy (the good chasing-after-kiddos kind of busy), that’s part of it. But really it’s just been a season of SO MUCH. God has been doing so much work in our lives over the past few months, I don’t even know where to start. Big things, great things, hard things. It’s been full and heavy. And I feel like we’re just at the starting line of this gloriously wild and crazy adventure.

Every new year I try to choose a word to focus on for the year ahead. I’ve been at a loss for my word this year. And I’ve decided that it’s okay if the seasons of my life don’t necessarily follow the calendar year. So while 2015 as a whole represents a beginning and an end, I think the season that I’m in maybe didn’t start on January 1st. Maybe it even started last year or maybe it’s still just beyond the horizon. So instead of trying to come up with a word for 2015, I’ve shifted my focus to searching for my word for this season, this right here and now. I’ve gone from moments of my mind spinning round and round with all of the various words that strike a chord with me right now, to saying that I’m opting out of the whole arbitrary word thing because words aren’t the boss of me and sometimes it’s okay to not have a word. And then I allow my mind to quiet and just be and take in the craziness of where our life is these days. I look around and realize that God is weaving our family into a story that is far beyond anything I could have dreamed up with a word. Days when I’m humbled to my knees and days when I’m face-on-the-floor desperately praying. And then there’s the moments when I stop myself and just sit and look around and take a minute to be still and let the fact that this is real life sink in. I stop the noise and the chatter and the fear and ALL of the words in my head.

I just listen.

I open my eyes, ears, and heart and just try take in all that God is saying to me right now. I get the impression that He has been trying to get my full attention for awhile now. All of those times when I worry myself sick and question, predict, obsess, bargain, and hold everything with clenched fists. All of that stress and energy poured into things beyond my control. So much noise. And, yet, when I find those glorious moments where I’m able to just stop, turn off the noise in my head, and listen, a sense of peace and grace just wash over every nook and cranny of the crazy.

I started this blog as a creative outlet, a way of documenting our family and recipes, and a hobby of sorts. I committed myself to being consistent with posts and carving out time to keep the ball rolling. A promise to myself. And then we were hit with the holiday season and the overwhelming flood of thoughts, emotions, and time-suckers that have come along with this foster care journey. I got tired. Really tired. I lost my desire to do much of anything beyond survival mode. And having words worth blogging about haven’t even made it past triage. God has pulled us into a roller coaster of brokenness/healing/heartbreak/redemption that is beyond my realm of comprehension. He’s asking us to do things harder than we would have ever dreamed we were capable of. He’s entrusting us with the heartbreak and vulnerability of His most beloved. Most days I wonder if I have what it takes. And all of the days I know that the answer is no. I don’t have what it takes. I’m humbled again and again and again. How am I supposed to walk this path when I clearly don’t have what it takes?

And then a whisper…

Listen, child. Just listen.

And so I listen

The crackling of the fireplace, sweet giggles between siblings, the tapping of the tree branch on the window, the pitter patter of little feet, the chirping of crickets hidden in the tall grass, the tone of sadness in a loved one’s voice, the wisdom in dear friends’ and perfect strangers’ words, the “see-me” look on my children’s faces, the quiet hush of letting go of each.and.every fearful thought.

With each day I’m starting to hear Him clearer and each day I feel more peace in knowing that I don’t need to have what it takes. Because He does. I don’t need to have it all figured out and have a Plan A, Plan B, and emergency back-up plan in place. Because He already has a plan far better than anything my day planner and I can dream up. I don’t need to have the perfect words to heal the brokenhearted. Because His Word already has all of the answers. I don’t need to set arbitrary goals for myself and feel guilty for being tired. Because He never gets tired. I just need to listen. Be still. Let myself be caught up in His rhythm instead of my own off-beat manic dance. One day at a time. One step at a time. One beat at a time.

When I’m dancing to His rhythm it really is a beautiful dance. It’s so worth stopping to listen… I don’t want to miss a beat.

And so I find myself in this season of less doing, more listening.

IMG_6792.JPG IMG_6793.JPG(Photo credit:

Just popping in…

December 9th, 2014

Howdy! I’ve been MIA over here on the blog for the past month or so simply because it’s been a crazy season of traveling, celebrating birthdays (one today in fact), anniversaries, and holidays. I’m choosing to say yes to all of those things and no to lots of other good things, like weekly blogging. I have so many recipes and words and thoughts and stories stored in my noggin just waiting for their turn to be shared. Soon enough 🙂

In the meantime, I wanted to pop over real quick and share a link to this blog post that I helped put together over on Dropping Anchors Blog. Dropping Anchors is a new labor of love that I’m blessed to be a part of with an awesome tribe of other foster moms. The goal is to shine some light into what’s often perceived as the ‘dark world’ of foster care. Children and families who are in need of love and hope, right in our own neighborhoods and cities. We hope to encourage other foster families and anyone else who has a heart for these children and families who are all too often forgotten. And hopefully show glimpses of the beautiful parts that many people never consider.

The post that I shared today is a Q&A with two amazing young women who happen to have grown up with foster siblings. They give their wise and insightful perspective on how it shaped their lives, hearts, and faith. I hope you’ll take a few minutes to go read their encouraging words (click on blog link above).

I hope to post again before Christmas, but if not… sending loads of love and gratitude to every single one of you. Cyber hugs and merry wishes to all.

IMG_4437.JPG(And can you blame me for saying no to consistent blogging when there is this to say yes to? I don’t want to miss a second of this)


One, two, three… four. (a foster care update)

October 24th, 2014

Tonight I tucked four precious little souls into bed (yes, four… deep sigh). I went into each of their rooms well after they were fast asleep and I breathed in each of those four little miracles and couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the fact that I got to kiss each of their little foreheads goodnight. We’ve come so close to losing each one of them in some shape or form, whether at birth, in utero, or through the complexities of foster care. Each near-loss so different, but still just a different version of the same nightmare for any mama’s heart. And, yet, they are all here, under one roof, tucked in and kissed on a few too many times.

I can’t share the details of the court proceedings for our foster daughter last week, but I can tell you that she’s still here, tucked cozy in her bed, in the home that she’s now spent nearly half of her young life in. God moved mountains and showed us that He is in complete control. All of my anxiety and worry and what if’s that I wrestled with last week seem foolish now. And yet I find myself coming up with new worries and what ifs. Hope feels even scarier. Even heavier than hopelessness. I have absolutely no idea what our future with this child we love so deeply will look like. Not even a clue. As of right now, the next court hearing isn’t until February but appeals can happen at any moment. Will we have her with us for our Thanksgiving trip to California? For Christmas? New Years? We have no idea. We dare to hope for these things and we cling to hope for a future where we can have some sort of role in her life. And we mostly hope for any move that may be in her future to be one that’s clearly in her best interest. But there’s no promises in this complicated broken system. So I find myself falling back into the trap of obsessing and worrying and trying to predict and plan for every scenario.

How soon I forget.

It was just one week ago when God boldly showed up and said “Hey, I’ve got this. See? I can make all things possible.” One week since we saw and felt our community rally around this girl in prayer. Simply praying that God’s will would prevail, whatever that may look like. And He clearly heard the prayers and showed up in big ways. As soon as I forget my gratitude for those answered prayers, a space for fear and doubt opens up. It’s a sneaky, ugly, all-consuming kind of fear.  Those thoughts of  ‘hey God, thanks for that, but now I’m just worried that ___ will happen’ are simply robbers of gratitude and joy disguised as a need for clarity. And there’s so much gratitude and joy to be had when I shake off the fear. The clarity lies in just trusting Who is running the show here.

So I’m working on shaking it off and leaning in. Some days I’m better at it than others. I’m focusing on the tiny glorious little gifts sprinkled throughout every day and trying to resist the temptation to guess what the big picture will look like. This sweet girl has blossomed so much in the six months that we’ve known her and this past week it was like she suddenly became fully comfortable in her own skin. This week that we were never promised is when we have seen her at her happiest and most joy-filled. How on Earth could I be afraid of a future dictated by a God that is good enough to give us that amazing gift. To witness her fully come alive during borrowed time. It deserves my attention and gratitude so much more than all of the fear and not-knowings.

Gratitude wins.

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Speaking of gifts… my most thoughtful and dear friend, Joy, arranged for her talented angel friend to come and bless our family with some updated family photos. We have no idea what our family photos will look like next year, so to have this season of our family captured is such a tremendous gift. There are treasures upon treasures that she captured for us. Part of me is glad I can’t share most of them because it makes them feel all the more sacred. Thank you for your time, amazing talent, and extraordinarily generous heart, Michelle. You get a lifetime supply of all my hugs and pies. xx


Pumpkin Fluff

October 16th, 2014

IMG_0999Gluten free, dairy free, soy free, nut free

I’m trying my darnedest to get in the fall spirit these days and I’ve been meaning to post this super quick and easy pumpkin-y goodness for the past couple of weeks. So in the spirit of all things fall, sweet, easy, and lovely… here is my five minute secret to gluten and dairy free creamy whipped goodness.

I remember back in my MOPS days pumpkin fluff was all the rage and one of those few potluck dishes that was fun for kids and adults alike. The problem is that it’s typically made with Cool Whip and other dairy-based highly processed foods. So I decided to experiment with a dairy free version and so far it hasn’t scared anyone away. I actually love the combination of the pumpkin and hint of coconut flavors and there’s just something about a sweet dip that makes life more fun.

The key to this recipe is having the can of coconut milk refrigerated for a good while beforehand. I typically have a few unopened cans in my refrigerator at all times. As the coconut milk gets cold it separates and the cream rises to the top and hardens. When that cold creamy top is whipped it has the same consistency as traditional whipped cream.

So after you have your coconut milk can in the fridge for a day or two, here’s the recipe…



1 can (full fat) coconut milk *refrigerated for 24 hours or more

1/2 cup powdered sugar

1/4 cup+ 1 Tbsp pureed pumpkin

1/2 tsp pumpkin pie spice (or you can blend your own: cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, cloves, cardamom)

Cinnamon to sprinkle on top



Scoop the hardened cream from the top of the refrigerated coconut milk can into an electric mixer bowl or medium size bowl if using a hand mixer (you can discard the leftover coconut water or add it to a smoothy or whatever floats your boat). Add the powdered sugar, pureed pumpkin, and pumpkin pie spices to the bowl. Whip everything together on high until it’s a light and fluffy whipped cream consistency (about 2-4 minutes).

Scoop the Pumpkin Fluff into a serving bowl and sprinkle with cinnamon. That’s it! Super easy.

Things we’ve paired it with: apple slices, graham crackers, grapes, animal cookies, a scoop on oatmeal, and a spoonful in my morning coffee. The possibilities are endless 🙂

Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to four or five days.


Hands wide open (a foster care update)

September 30th, 2014

Last week I posted these words and this picture on Instagram…IMG_0917.JPG“But what if you get attached?”

“What if your kids get attached?”

“What if you get one of those complicated cases with no clear outcome?”

“What if you end up with your hearts broken?”

…Oh but what if we never had these days to get to know her and love her fiercely. What if we never said yes and never knew her sweet one-of-a-kind spirit. What if we never tested the limits of how far our hearts can be stretched. What if we didn’t get to be the ones to be her safe place for however long we have the privilege. And what if her story becomes one of redemption instead of rescue.

This child. This fearfully and wonderfully made little soul. She is worth more than the what ifs.

I had no idea that two days later we would be delivered the news that would challenge the truth of those words to my core.

Earlier that week we had purchased tickets for the six of us to fly to California the week of Thanksgiving, excited to take this precious baby girl to meet all of our family and take her and the boys to Disneyland. I had already purchased her cute little Halloween costume and envisioned the fun Christmas we would be having with an extra little one toddling around. We had no idea when/if she would be leaving us, but all signs seemed to point toward her staying at least through the end of the year.

Then on Friday we were woken up from our daydream to the news that plans have changed, as they often do in foster care.

We were told that our little lady will most likely be moved to another family within the next 3-4 weeks.

In foster care, family and “fictive kin” are always given priority at just about every point in a child’s case. Fictive kin is a common term heard in foster care and it refers to just about anyone who knows/has known the biological family. They generally have to go through background checks and have a home study completed and, if those are approved, the court will almost always rule to have the child moved to their care, even if they’ve never met the child. The way the system currently works, licensed foster families (like us) are always at the bottom of the totem poll and essentially have no voice in the case.

I’ve typed and erased what I’m about to say next at least 10 times…

I want to say that we are optimistic and supportive of this decision to move this little girl. They seem like a nice family and I’m sure they will love this sweet child well. I want to be stoic and say that I know this is all part of God’s plan and that “this is what we signed up for”. I want to say that I have peace in this decision and feel like it truly is in her best interest. I want to be grateful that this is happening now versus six months from now. I want to say with confidence that even though we love her like our own, we will be okay when she is gone. I want to say that this is the kind of story I would’ve written for her and I know it will be filled with love and grace.

But here’s the truth. Right now, right here, in this moment… when I think about this sweet child’s world being flipped upside down all over again and her being dropped into another new home with new people and seemingly abandoned by us… I can’t breath. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can barely move. It feels too heavy. Overwhelming. Suffocating. The mama bear in me wants to wrap her in my arms and never let go. When I think about how devastating this will be to our family, our boys, I feel like falling to my knees to beg God for a miraculous turn of events. Please make this not be what her future holds. When we told our boys the news and saw the tears and pain in their eyes I couldn’t help but question our decision to become a foster family. We are supposed to protect these precious boys and their hearts, and here we are telling them they are about to lose a sibling, because that’s what we signed up for. Yes, we love this girl with all our hearts and she has changed our lives in the best possible way, but what were we thinking? Who in their right minds sign up for this? Were we naive and too impulsive to sign up for something that could cause such heartbreak to our family? Should foster care just be reserved for those who are strong enough, hardened enough to not become too attached? Did we just play Russian roulette with the security and happiness of our family, and lose? What have we done? Will we ever be able to fully recover from this?

I think/dream/obsessively worry about the day she leaves. Often times in foster care the judge rules and CPS comes to pick up the child that day. No time to prepare or say goodbye, no time to wait for your big kids to get home from school so they can say their goodbyes. Just throw all of her stuff in boxes and try not to vomit as you watch her being taken away by a CPS worker, kicking and screaming and trying to cling to you for dear life. And then she’s just gone. I just can’t. And yet foster children face this reality every single day. This is how our system is set up. Laws, policies, procedures, budgets and court rulings reign, and good intentions and the child’s emotional well-being take a supporting role.

What on Earth is this?? Why would God allow such brokenness?

And then a lesson in grace from our 9 year old. “I’m just really glad we got to have her for this long. Maybe there’s another baby that is going to need a home for Christmas time and we’ll be able to take them now”. Deep breath, tears. Simple profound wisdom. He’s only 9 but he gets it.

This journey. This foster care craziness. It’s less about what our self-conceived ideas are of doing God’s work, and more about submitting ourselves to the work that He is already doing.

I get a grip. I remind myself that we didn’t gamble with our family’s well being. This is not a game. There are no losers in this. We followed God’s lead and we loved like crazy and I have no doubt the growing pains will be worth the renovating that He’s doing in our hearts. Our boys will grow up to have compassion and empathy that cannot be taught from a book or classroom. And I remind myself of just how mighty and sovereign God is in this precious girl’s life. How soon I forget all of the supernatural redemption and miracles He’s performed in my own life. He can and will redeem this kind of heartbreak for her too. I think about how much we love this girl and then I’m reminded how our love can’t even hold a candle to the giant love of her Creator. She is in good hands, His hands. While the process makes no sense to me now, I’m standing only an inch away from the giant mural He has painted and I can’t even begin to comprehend the beauty that is in store when I’m able to step back and see the big picture. I need to trust. I need to be thankful for this time and the growth that will come from it. It is going to hurt, probably for a long time, with painful reminders tucked away in every nook and cranny of our home and hearts. But I know without a shadow of a doubt that if we were given the chance, to love this girl and leave with scars and wounded hearts, or to never know her and our hearts kept guarded and safe… we’d choose broken hearts every time. Because she’s worth it. And because redemption only comes where weakness and brokenness exist.

So now we ride the waves of the waiting game. There are the moments where I struggle to breath, tears streaming, fear and ‘what ifs’ gripping me by the throat. And then there are moments when I allow His peace to fill my heart and I feel strong enough to hold this sweet baby and her future with my hands wide open, ready for His will. And in all of the moments I notice how all of us are being a little more intentional, lingering in moments with her a little longer. I find myself trying to memorize everything about this beautiful little one and this time we have with her, however long it is. I rock her well past the point of her falling asleep and just breath her in a little longer. I marvel at every little hair on her head. I read her Brown Bear Brown Bear for the millionth time without a second thought of those dishes piled up in the sink. And I sit in awe as I watch my boys love her even bigger and bolder than they already did. We have started a bucket list of fun things we want to do with her before she goes. I’m trying to pull myself together enough to start organizing and packing up her things and write a letter to her next caregivers, letting them know about her preferences and schedule and all of her little quirks we’ve gotten to know since April. I’m hoping to muster the strength and composure to write her a letter, telling her all about her first steps, first words, first birthday, first trip to the beach, and let her know how much she is loved no matter where she is. She may grow up to never know us, but I pray she knows that she was, and is, always loved and wanted.

We have no idea when she’ll be going, but from what we’ve been told it could likely be around the time of the upcoming court date or shortly thereafter. We are praying that this next family will be open to communicating with us so that we can hopefully tell them a little about her before the move (maybe even take a little road trip so she can at least meet them first if they’re open to it… praying for that big time). And, God willing, we hope and pray that we’ll be able to still visit with her or at least get updates at some point after the move.

To all of you who have loved and prayed for this precious child alongside us… Thank You. I know this is heartbreaking news for more than just us. We have watched family, friends, neighbors, and perfect strangers love this girl with abandon. And I have seen how she has softened the hearts of so many and made so many rethink their opinions of what foster care looks like. I can’t even begin to tell you how moved we have been by the community that has rallied around us and lifted us up over the past several months. It has encouraged us beyond measure. I can’t share the details of this sweet child’s story or tell you about her incredible mama, but I can tell you that we are forever changed by our time with them. I told her mama that they both will always be a part of our family and I truly meant it. I hope that the bits and pieces that we have been able to share about this journey reflect the beauty that is growing and blooming all throughout the brokenness. Love is writing an incredible story for this girl and to have had a small part in it is both humbling and sanctifying. Redemption is already working in us. And we’re opening our eyes to see the grace that is surrounding us.

“Grace can’t be outsmarted, out-worried,  or outrun. Throw back your arms and fall into it” ~Bob Goff

And so we fall.


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