Strapped but Not Held Down

Everyday I'm reminded how blessed I am regardless the chaos, noise or discomfort I experience during the day. My journey of discomfort began in November. When I had just been given clearance to do the thing I love so much to do and which keeps me grounded, I walked into a surgery yet again leaving me stuck in the reclining chair and at the mercy of many others. 

It feels like forever ago I had four drains stitched to my sides leaving me with very 

few options for clothing and comfort. 

My Mom and I ventured out weeks after surgery and ended up at Cheeks to try on clothes and feel somewhat normal. Nothing about having a drain baby makes you feel normal especially when you look four months preggers. Praise God I can laugh and not cry every time hard faces me. 

This will go down as a stellar Mother/Daughter date. 

It feels like forever ago someone had to bathe me and pour my coffee for me. I still can't run (big, long weary sigh) but I know I can. I can't lift weights but I know my body is strong. 

After weekly appointments at the University of Washington Medical center post surgery, things came to a screeching halt. The reconstructive surgery had been scheduled for April sixth giving my body one last final time to heal before the summer fun began and a fall race training schedule would need to resume. 

...Enter Covid-19...

I've later learned that many things came to a halt. My surgeon explained that in a matter of a day, her three surgeries went from normal waiting room procedures to two family members only and by the third surgery no one allowed in the waiting room... all in one day. She also shared how patients, recently diagnosed with breast cancer, were told to push pause on upcoming surgeries to remove cancer and to take extra chemotherapy until operating rooms opened up once again. 

My heart sunk.

I immediately thought back to when my sister was diagnosed and the fear surrounding something terminal growing in her body. Removing the cancer could not have happened any quicker. The fear knowing you have a detonated bomb ticking in your body is scary enough yet alone told to sit and be calm. 

For all the discomfort I experience with iron clad expanders that, as close to explaining, feels like a too small, too tight, broken down underwire bra, I can live a few more months for these terrified patients to have surgery first. (they're not really iron.)

Yes, the new surgery date throws off my well-thought out plans but given today's chaos, it could be worse. 

Our kids are healthy. 

Our home is safe. 

Our jobs secure. 

Our faith is solid. 

Our marriage thriving. 

Our gas tank is full. 

Our support system remains present. 

We still have our laughter. 

We still have the church.

We still have our health.

We will still have fun this summer. 

In all my time now at home, I've been able to purge many things from my computer creating additional space and storage. Having both preventive surgeries has cleared mind space where fear once lived. The computer was desperately in need of the same thing. One of the tasks has been to go through all the thousands of pictures I struggle to delete. In doing so, I ran across this picture of Tim and I from 2014 that, not only is hilariously fitting, but pretty much sums things up as of late. 

Our hands are full; our bellies full of laughter. 

It may feel like our countries situation is strapping many of us down with unexpected loss and freedom. The ability to worship together, visit with friends and shop at our favorite local stores halted. 

But God. 

God can not be strapped down, confined to a box or told He has boundaries. He is bigger than all our fears, doubts and delays in preventive surgeries. God has purpose in our waiting.

It does feel like forever ago when I last ran, but I know my time to run will be coming soon. Until then, I'll keep purging the photos, organizing my inbox and give thanks for all the things 

God has blessed our family with including being drain free. 

What are you thankful for today?

{ Having fun; making memories. }

{ I will burn this pillow when all said and done. }

{ No drains and finally free. }

{ Post-op covid style. }

A Slice of Humble Pie

{ Humble pie. }

One can prepare as best as possible for a substantial event, but the unknown elements create moments of humility that have, in turn, produced gratitude. Having another major surgery did that for me. 

I went in as emotionally sound as I could knowing there'd be triggers and memories that would surface from a decade of pain and hardship witnessing many of my family members face cancer. This journey has been to prevent cancer but the experience has been all too familiar. Leaving the kids the night before was torment; having them cared for by our family and friends made it easier. 

Being I had to stop eating and drinking by midnight, I filled up over a celebratory meal with My Love where we toasted God's goodness and faithfulness. Tim has been nothing short of being amazingly awesome, gentle, caring and patient in this recovery process. 

With the surgery time beginning late morning, it gave for hours of reflection and worry to set in. Our good friend drove south to sit with Tim during the six hour surgery. It's been because of our village that we've done this so well. 

Recovery has been filled with love and friendship from the willing childcare, surprise visits, endless meals and cards of well-wishes. Living in a small town has pros and cons but our family has seen the deep, genuine care of our community at its finest. 

Thank you seems small for how grateful we are.

{ Needed all the encouragement I could fester... }

My sister had these socks from her journey and I occasionally wear them when I need to do hard things. If there was one person, aside from my husband, to sit by my side, it would be my sister. Someone to calm my fears, tell me what it would be like and support our kids like she did so well. I set aside the provided hospital socks and demanded my Bad A** socks remain on throughout surgery. 

The only surprise of the day was Dr. Calhoun stating she would remove one lymph node from each side as precaution not reason. 

This felt too similar to Traci's story and the surprise procedure was enough set the tears into motion. Tears that went from fear to laughter before surgery.

Tim and I have found weekly lunch dates in all our trips to and from Seattle both before and after surgery. One of which had the perfectly stated message for us as Tim has truly carried me through this experience. 

When doctors warn you of T-rex arms, they really aren't joking. The range of motion and ability to do ANYTHING for yourself is immediately stripped away after a double mastectomy. 

Even breathing on my own was a burden for my body the first five hours after surgery resulting in Tim cautiously, but with great panic, reminding me to breath. Every minute and a half I felt a gentle tap on my hand and a voice telling me, "Breath hun, stay with me love."

Once the narcotics began filtering out of my body, Tim was able to relax a little bit. 

Going the bathroom, showering, getting dressed and the first few days, cutting my own food were all tasks I needed help with. Adjusting the eight pillows to find some level of comfort became Tim's specialty. He just knew what I needed, when I needed it. 

Around the clock care. 

Around the clock humility. 

I have been at the mercy of others and still remain here to some extent. 

{ My personal care taker. }

 { Recovery in action. }

My views of recovery have been watching my Mom clean our house, getting kids here and there, full seasons of all things Joanna Gaines and clinging to my mastectomy pillow on weekly trips to SCCA and UW Medical Center. I've mastered the art of sitting and frankly, found myself sick of it while watching Bakers vs. Fakers. While watching, a craving text to Tim became reality when he brought home two pies. 

Humble pie to match my journey of learning how to ask for help, accept helping hands and being okay with it. 

My recovery journey continues for a few more months and everyday I'm feeling stronger. I celebrate the little wins for the day and find myself so incredibly grateful for each prayer spoken on my behalf. 

Today's win... I washed my own hair. 

Intentional < Prevention = Surrender

I began the beginning of 2019 with a word full of purpose and anticipation for what would become the result of eleven single letters strung together. A word that would be the foundation to the decisions made, commitments had and reasons for saying "yes" or "no." 

{ I N T E N T I O N A L }

Done on purpose; deliberate, intended. 

Eleven letters that provided meaningful connections, ministry opportunities, family entertainment and deliberate laughter with those I love. From the big trips to the simple snuggles, focusing on being present in every moment became my motivation. God provided personal challenges that caused me to rely on Him more and desire to learn more about who I am as His child.

Summer was when I felt the shift begin. A shift of intentions and God introducing me to a new word that would come with uncomfortable situations, painful appointments and a deeper spiritual focus required to survive. 

{ P R E V E N T I O N }

I've spent time learning about prevention and the connection it has to the Bible. One online resource explains prevention as such:

"Prevent" occurs in the King James Version in the literal but obsolete sense of "to come or go before," "to anticipate," not in the sense of "to hinder." It is the translation of qadham, "to be sharp," "to be in front," "to be beforehand."  

For the past twelve years, I've had yearly mammograms to catch any precancerous tumors as a result of family history. A family history that has the University of Washington "excited" about building said family history tree going back generations deep with over six known cancers present. It's also led to two biopsies, days worth of worry and fear that can nearly paralyze oneself. Witnessing my sister and grandma's battle such an ugly beast looms before and during every screening appointment. 

"If these things exist in you, and continually increase, they prevent your being either idle or unfruitful in advancing towards a full knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ."

2 Peter 1:8

Being intentional about my health led me to making steps to prevent destruction of my body. Together, Tim and I have had lengthy discussions about what this looks like. I've had numerous doctors review my charts, been on hold waiting for insurance approvals, scheduled and planned out of town appointments and now prepare for a disruption of normal routine. What I've done more of, is reflect on this word, prevention, and 

how it relates to faith. 

It's interesting to me how some words stand out as strong verbs, action words that cause movement in our heart, feet or minds. Other words inspire or encourage oneself. Many messages teach about following Jesus to secure our eternal life. We're taught how to live a good life using the Fruits of the Spirit and structure our lives with the Ten Commandments as boundaries. But rarely is the word prevention used to speak about eternal life. 

I can't help but think God is asking me to take more bold steps in preventing the opposite of eternal life; death. If I were to be completely honest with myself, I'm not sure I'm doing enough. Prevention from burning in hell. Prevention from corruption and disease. Prevention from mediocre faith. 

"For the flesh lusts against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh; and these are contrary to one another, that you may not do the things that you desire."

Galatians 5:17

Am I teaching our kids enough about Who God is?
Am I being the example that leads them into a personal relationship with God the Father?
How is my life preventing others from doom?
What am I doing from preventing the world infiltrating our family walls?
Am I doing enough to prevent another marriage collapse?

My flesh is imperfect. My flesh can at times be sick. Going back to my original word, God has not only given me the ability to be intentional this year but He's walked with me in the beginning journey of being in front of, to anticipate, my flesh potentially causing harm.

When I was told I would need breast screening every six months for the next twenty years, my heart sank. My first biopsy was just a few months after my sister had passed with emotions far from stable as I processed grief. I would go to the ends of the earth to bring Traci back to hear her encouragement and have her hold my hand like I did hers. Cancer is not present in my body, but being intentional about my health and present for my family has resulted in an upcoming surgery to prevent an anticipated negative diagnoses.

Over the past couple months, through conversations with Tim and quiet time with God, a
new word has come to surface.

{ S U R R E N D E R }

I believe it's in the intentions of my time, preventing something from happening, that God is asking me to surrender my humility, levels of comfort and control of my schedule.

Robert Schuller says, "Spectacular achievement is always preceded by unspectacular preparation." 

I want to be fully alive. I want to be fully engaged. I want to have spectacular preparations in place to achieve the best outcome in 2020. This means many will have to surrender on my behalf and I say thank you in advance to the many hands making it possible for our family to keep moving forward.

My heart is already in God's hands. I've surrendered my plans for His.

I pray God gives you a special word to give purpose in everyday He grants you life. 

I will continue to seek blessings; the intentional ones and those that greet me with a little surprise. 

God is so good. 

"By faith we understand that the worlds were prepared by the word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things which are visible."

Hebrews 11:3

Awareness that Leads to Remembrance

My sister always made everyone around her know how good God was as she fought breast cancer. 

The confessions are found in the pages of her journal after her original diagnoses in 2007. Her continuous smile proved she believed in "counting it all joy." (James 1:2)

The month of October puts extra emphasis on breast cancer awareness. During the raw and most challenging moments of Traci's journey, I found myself at times bitter and angry walking into stores seeing all things pink. 

"Why did she have to suffer like this? Why was her youth stolen by this disease and dreams of having a family instantly ripped from her grip? It's not fair she suffered for so long."

I know my sister had these same thoughts, but my memory can only recall twice when I heard the frustration. Her faith soared while her ability to survive was rooted in the truth that God is good. 

It became her lens in all things hard and reason why she praised in the positive moments. 

Her very presence was contagious simply because her faith was who she was. Traci showed many who Jesus was during her cancer journey which gave her more reason to keep fighting. 

How often have I given up hope because life got hard? When my belief that God is good vanishes due to frustrations and negative outcomes to situations out of my control?

God, I'm so sorry my flesh caved to defeat. 

Thank you for allowing me to have the years with my sister who challenged my faith and taught me 'never' or 'can't' are void of the dictionary. Thank you for granting our family thirty seven short years with a warrior who showed us how to fight well. 

Yes, October is Breast Cancer Awareness month, but I'd rather change the language to show off the hero's who gave everyone else reason to believe that...

God is still good. 

If Traci was still living, I'm positive she'd still be fighting, stubborn in her prayers for healing and cheering on all her Pink Sister's battling breast cancer alongside her. 

To those battling breast cancer, you are not far from our thoughts and prayers. Your strength and tenacity inspires those around you and does not go unnoticed. 

Sister, I miss you. 

 { Super model pose while passing time receiving treatment. }

Cupcakes & Cider

Today was a good day. 

The kind of day that allowed Myriam to play hooky from school and do all things Auntie's favorite with Papa and Nana. From hiking at Lake Whatcom to dingy rides in Bellingham Harbor, playing at parks and lunches at the Web Locker... all things that brought joy to Auntie Traci. 

Today would have been my sister's 40th birthday. 

And as crazy as it may be, I wanted to remember and celebrate the day my mother gave birth to the oldest daughter; my big sister. 

A day that no mother will forget. 

So, we did just that. My parents played, the kids sang the birthday song, we ate cupcakes and gathered as family to remember, laugh, catch up and have reason to toast the life we all loved so much. I imagine my sister beaming with pride seeing family join together with reason to party. 

I caught myself smiling randomly throughout the day reminiscing over childhood birthday parties and all things celebratory. My sister was the best when it came to birthdays and honoring people. Gifts for no reason, confetti in cards and every gift having reason or connection to what that person adored. 

She never was without thought or concern for others. 

A gift she gave to all that had the blessing of meeting her. 

Happy 40th birthday sister. 

{ There are decades of memories on the water. }

{ Cupcakes & Cider }

 { Mom & Dad... they celebrated well. }

{ Even our flower girl came to celebrate today! }

A Day of Rescue

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you. Not yet."

These were the words my sister shared with me a month before she passed.
As we sat in Red Robin, laughing over the need for straws and beverage stabilization, her hands shook tempting the lemon drop to fall into her lap. Her body weakening; her spirit fiercely fighting. We decided to order multiple appetizers since we couldn't land on one dinner option leaving us with a table full of food and conversation for hours. I'm sure it looked ridiculous honestly. The disease had clearly taken a tole on her appearance and, for what I think was the first time outwardly, looked really sick. Regardless of how she felt, we were going to enjoy our time as sisters.
It was in these conversations where I remember asking if anything had changed and if she was ready. 

What I loved most about my sister was her ability to calm the weary supporter. The ability to relay a message of peace and firmly causing me to believe that only God can have control of her earthly timeline. I let her say her peace, but inside I knew things were changing. 

And here I sit, two years after my sweet sister gained her heavenly citizenship; grieved but not without joy, broken but whole, empty but have all that I need. 

There's not a day that goes by without a thought of my sister passing through a memory. A day that goes by without a longing to call and share the embarrassing moment or frustrating situation in parenting. I will always want more time, more hugs, more shaky dates with lemon drops and straws, but I realized in the process of my healing, that she needed a rescue more than I needed an earthly sister to stand by my side. 

God works all things for His glory, at the right time and with His purpose which points to His Kingdom and power. I believe it; I know it; I read the truth and rest in those promises. It's still hard. Heaven is more real now than has ever been before. Three grandparents and a sister in two years is far too much for one family to experience yet alone process with young ones. Death changes you. Grief rearranges your priorities and places a filter on life that is hard to understand when it's not personal and within reach of your sphere. Giving my grief words can be a challenge some days and when needed my tears speak for the lost communication. 

God heard my sisters request of her spirit growing faint to this earthly world and sent an army to rescue her from the physical suffering and torment the ravishing disease was doing to her body. What settles my deep longing to pull my sister from Heaven is knowing the impact still taking place through her story and how God, in His infinite wisdom, orchestrated her beautiful rescue. 

He heard her.

He saw her. 

He sheltered her. 

He defended her. 

He found her. 

I'm confident that my sisters words would not change if she could shout down from Heaven...

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you. Not yet."

Her message unwavering:
God is still good. 

Not every rescue looks the way we requested, planned or even want to experience. There is no goodbye willingly given to those you love. 

But, this I know... I needed a rescue as much as my sister received hers. 

God rescued me from intense grief, from a state of brokenness and loss that has turned to joy. 

God hears me, sees me, continues to shelter me and defend me. 

Today, I reflect on the moment my sisters hand slipped from mine and entered into the presence of God. 

Today, as a family, we remember the life that was lived with a contagious smile, laughter
and zest for adventure. 

I will raise my hands in worship, allow the tears to slip down my cheeks and embrace the army that has surrounded me here on earth separate from my sister. 

Happy Heavenly Birthday my sweet sister... You still haven't left me. 

Rocking Into My Tenth State Race

{ Reclaimed Ministry Small Group Training }

I love how God connects people. 

This past October I was in Alabama for a women's retreat where I met Christie and many others from My Springs Church in Mississippi. After spending a weekend together, I was intrigued by Christie's story and then invited to run with her at the New Orleans Rock and Roll 1/2 Marathon. 

 It was just a year ago that Christie and her husband Gabe woke up to the smell of smoke raging through their home. With nearly nothing on their backs and being eight months pregnant with their third child, Christie and her husband grabbed their older two kids and raced outside. The home, a family estate with generations of memories, devastated to the foundation. 

And yet, Christie still smiles. 

A hero in my book. 

This past weekend I was able to stand in their newly constructed home, be greeted with huge hugs, given the full home tour by sweet Annabelle, and was witness to God's faithfulness to this sweet family after processing an incredibly challenging year. 

My friends, from My Springs Church, introduced me to fried pickles, catfish, hushpuppies, chicken and okra. My grease lined stomach sadly missed out on the fried Oreos! But not to worry... after a little ministry work and Reclaimed Small Group Training, Christie and I drove to New Orleans to run that race she had so graciously invited me to. Due to a bum knee, Christie was only able to run the 10k, but that didn't bother me. I was happy to accomplish another state goal and cross another finish line to gain my tenth state towards my 50 by 50! And by far the most flat race only climbing a grand total of 23 feet. Refreshing after that last race...

It was after the race I continued my fried foods tour and experienced the deliciously powdered beignet. Amazing. Olive Garden's dessert has no leg to stand on over the real deal! Thanks to both Christie and her friend Lauren, I was able to see much of the landscape in the land of beads, jazz and parades before boarding my flight home to the land of snow, winds and school cancellations. 

Thank you to those that greeted me with such love and open arms in Collins, and to my running buddies that allowed me to cheer, encourage and maybe push them through the finish line. 

{ Christie & Lauren: hosts & running buddies. }

{ Celebrating the 10th state. }

{ Race is done..time for Cafe Beignet! }

Hummingbird Kisses

A faint hum. A flutter of the wing. A hummingbird kiss hovering in the air.

The ability to beat the wing two hundred times in a single second. 

This is grief; a flutter of memories that holds hundreds of visuals of the one you love which are displayed in a single beat of the heart longing to be with those gone. 

{ 1980's Christmas }

I first experienced this the day my sister passed almost two years ago. As the sun was setting in a pink fire of a sky, hummingbirds greeted the porch that once fed them in multiple feeders on Traci's balcony. The pause of movement hovering before diving to the next destination. 

Many have sent text messages with images of hummingbirds staring them down outside a kitchen window as a reminder of the connection my sister had with the fascinating bird. 

A physical reminder that brought a memory to mind. 

The most significant being on a run with a girlfriend this past summer, 1200ft. in elevation, pausing at an overlook facing Mt. Baker and the valley below. A breathtaking display of God's creation that felt like a hands distance away. Our emotions were already in play as we began our run in tears and paused in reflection of what God had done in our lives. As I began to explain how I couldn't even come close to what heaven would be like compared to the view we had in front of us, a hummingbird came within arms reach; eye level, face to face, pausing for what felt like minutes. My body collapsed to the stone rock we stood on as the tears flooded my cheeks. A hummingbird kiss of desired touch, relationship and physical presence fluttered in front of me as if Traci herself, was there to tell me to get it going, stop you're fussing and get running. My girlfriend gently laid her hand on my shoulder praying through the grief left on that view point advantage. 

"I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember Your miracles of long ago. I will meditate on all Your works and consider all your mighty deeds."

Psalm 77:11-12

Hauling out the Christmas decorations I, out of habit, went to grab my phone to call my sister and tell her Christmas was about to unleash throughout my house. Her name greeting me on the Christmas card list in harsh reality that I won't be sending her a card. 

The ornament hanging on the tree in memory of my sister not here in person to celebrate. 

Memories of decorating gingerbread houses together, discussing what gifts to buy for our parents, what crafts to make for teacher gifts and how to spoil the nieces and nephews have been in full view this month. It's hard not to remember the old... of not that long ago. 

One particular Christmas really stands out in my mind. My dad had just recently been diagnosed with prostate cancer. The weekend we found out all the details of his condition, I spent in Portland visiting Traci. She always had a list a mile long of things to do that if accomplished, would take the entire month to cross each one off. She was never shy of ideas to create memories. This weekend she took us (Tim, Addi & I) to the Grotto to see the beautiful displayed nativity scene carved in stone along with harmonic choirs in a tree light setting. There was a glimpse of fear in our conversation over Dad and tears shed as Daddy's girls were scared for his future. Little did we know four months later she would be facing a diagnoses herself. 

I also think back to Christmas of 2015 when us three kids tried to replicate an old childhood picture in our Christmas onesie pj's with perfectly cropped mullets. There was laughter that filled the living room seeing all of us in oversized, ridiculous pj's making the kids think we were all a bit crazy. 

And taking you really far back, the memories of red, plaid Christmas nightgowns with curly hair and three kids overly anxious to open presents with Mom slowly... washing... every... single... dish before we could even so much as touch a present to open. And of course, the kid picture in front of the tree or fireplace has to take place as well before the excitement of gifts begin. These are the flutters that cross my mind as I glance at our Christmas tree and see the hummingbird visit the feeder outside my window. 

"And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, "This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.""

Luke 22:19

Grief can be complicated, exhausting, unexpected and beautiful all in the same moment. I've been punched with grief when not expecting the tears to well up and then find myself laughing in the middle of a memory. I have promised myself that I will not give any ground for the Enemy to steal my joy and that also 

includes my joy in grief. 

Once a month, we remember what Christ did for us on the cross taking our sins upon Himself to then offer His children eternal salvation if we believe. A time to reflect, repent and remember ALL that Father God has done in our lives. Sure, for some this can be a time of extreme emotions and others a time of gratitude that extends through smiles and worship. Both displaying the act of remembering. We don't do this to get stuck on the fact that we are filthy sinners who don't deserve grace. We do this to remember the freedom we have through the cross. God has provided believers an expression to receive a hummingbird kiss. A moment to reflect on the ways God has rescued, redeemed and forgiven you in life. 

I am so thankful for the beauty of remembering. 

Sister, thank you for giving me so much to remember. 

Two hundred memories in a single second. 

Two hundred times two hundred more days I wish I had more with you. 

Two hundred ways to say I love you and miss you. 

Two hundred ways God gave you miracles that has inspired, encouraged and given me reason to smile. 

Hummingbird kisses. 

Flutters of memories displayed in mere seconds as a single tear quietly travels down my cheek. 

Merry Christmas Sister. You are always remembered.

Desert Adventures Part Three

Grand Canyon (9th state)
Horseshoe Bend
3:08 time
230 of 791 total runners

32 of 106 in my age division (30-39)

111 of 516 all female

14 miles total

1650 ft. in elevation

Waking up this morning meant packing up the tent and loading the car completely. Addi and I had already packed the suitcases the night before so it was a matter of rolling up bags by lanterns light.  The challenge is getting out of your sleeping bag into the low forty temperatures to dress and get going. I was so proud of Addison for rocking the runners tent life.

Once again, we were met with sludge for coffee and I'm thankful I packed a few Starbuck Via's to make my few sips go down a little easier. There was an overall sigh being this was the last day of the race, but also community tenderness in everyone's steps. I love the enthusiasm that greeted runners and overall spirit of community in base camp. Even though there are hundreds of people you start to recognize faces after a few days. I was entertained hearing where everyone was from and finding out their own running journey. Many of the participants had never ran on trail, elevation over five hundred feet or miles past double digits. I can't imagine how sore every joint and muscle would be without the training I committed to do. 

We again had to drive a distance to the shuttle parking lot near the start line. Addison really wanted to watch me start a race so she snuck in the shuttle rather than waiting this time for the spectator shuttle. With everyday, the start line opened up at seven thirty and then became a rolling start as the runners made their way to the line. This benefited the race congestion especially since many trails were single track. 

{ Waiting for the shuttle bus and blessed with this incredible sunrise. #nofilter }

{ State #9 done. }

{ Day three begins... }

Today's race made for my ninth state as I ran in Arizona near Horseshoe Bend. Originally, the course had all runners going ten miles. With the threat of rain later in the morning and the past few days rain, the Waterslot Canyons proved too dangerous to have all of us crazies trampling up and down a ladder into the skinny canyons. The pictures looked amazing so I was a little disappointed, but grateful I didn't have to swim my way out if a flash flood arrived. That said, the new course added an additional two miles to the final day race. In reality, it turned out to be fourteen miles on the most 

technical surface I've ran on ever. 

Think of fragile crepes, layered fifty thick and not being sure if they are secure enough to put your weight on... this is just a little of what I ran on. Layers of thin sand harden making the surface never flat or level and then add in seven miles of soft beach canyon sand. Parts of the out and back course (there was zero trails just markers to keep you from getting lost) forced you into skinny rock formations that had you scaling down and back up on the way back. Only one person at a time could pass. Absolutely crazy. 

The Grand Canyon by far gave me the most challenge physically and emotionally. The view did not in fact disappoint which kept me running and also knowing the finish line was miles away pushed me to keep running. 

{ A success just to keep the pink ribbon in view while navigating the terrain. }

{ What went down, must climb back up. }

Desert Adventures Part Two

"Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth."

Psalm 46:10

Zion 

Gooseberry Mesa

2:21 time
259 out of 789 total runners

25 of 108 age division (30-39)

126 of 517 all female
12 miles total
1034 ft. in total elevation

{ The sunrise cast a beautiful glow. }

When we left base camp to drive to the start lines it was pitch black outside. The flip side of this are the night skies and ability to see all the stars. Simply incredible. Addi and I slept amazing this second night staying plenty warm and dry. 

Again, we had to drive a little over an hour to the start line which for locals, looks bizarre seeing a line of headlights literally miles long as we all follow one after another. In order to get to the "parking lot" the second morning we had to drive on a very bumpy road for about a mile then pull into a low laying cactus, dirt cattle field to park our beat up rental. Thank goodness it stopped raining or we'd never even get past the beginning of the dirt road! 

This was the first time we were able to see the beginning of the sunrise and it didn't disappoint. The colors in Zion were again amazing. Completely different canyon than Bryce both in size, elevation and the surface I ran on. Some loose sand but mainly rippled gritty rock that was rolling on the top of a "flat" canyon. Looks are deceiving from a distance. I was surprised how much green was in the desert. This particular trail had lots of cactus and what looked to be pine trees. The path we took had the runners along the edge for half of the race. I was shocked how many were brave enough to sit on the ledge to get that epic photo shot. The Mommy in me wanted to reach out my arm and tell the adults to stay back.

Desert Adventures Part One

A year ago, I was doing my wifely duties of vacuuming up other people's messes when I jammed my two little toes into the recliner grossly breaking a little piggy. It took two doctors and a nurse to convince me to stop running for awhile until the break healed or I'd have a disfigured toe for the rest of my life. This meant deferring my registration for the Grand Circle Trailfest until this year. 

I've been training hard to accomplish this goal of three races in three days. Intense trail runs alone in the hills with my thoughts running wild and prayers being sent to the One who created the beauty surrounding Whatcom County. There is no lack of trails around here or others who love the trails as much as I do. I even managed to get Charlie to tag along on some flatter runs while pedaling beside me for miles. Training is challenging, mental and time consuming when juggling four littles. 

But, it was so worth the wait and dedication to stay focused and push
through the moments where training got hard. 

Addison's school had a few days off of school and she gladly jumped at the opportunity to join Mom in Kanab, Utah. We packed strategically knowing there were no wash machines for the immediate wash of weathered running clothes. Sleeping bags, air mattresses, multiple shoes and race day attire were jammed into a suitcase with about twenty large Ziploc bags ready to seal in the stench of my adventures. Addi and I flew into Las Vegas, then drove through some breathtaking country to get to our base camp where four hundred tents were set up and ready for runners.

{ Weekend cans at base camp. "Thou shall cover thy turd with sawdust." }

We quickly immersed ourselves with camp life, the S'mores Station and dinner haul. I absolutely loved having our oldest tag along with me, but I'm guessing she was thinking differently when desert storm released her fiery with the most insane thunder and lightening I've ever experienced. As a reminder, we are sleeping in tents, on the ground which was shaking violently and rain that pierced the one rain shield between us and God's sweet precipitation. Needless to say, we only got four hours of sleep before a rude early morning wake-up call and first race start for the weekend. 

I can't say great things about the food provided but I'm grateful we didn't have to worry entirely about it. The coffee looked like the mud we walked through and options of flavors were slim. Everything about my running usual's were thrown out the window. 

We drove a little over an hour to get to the parking lot where shuttles then brought us to the start line. Addison waited in the dry car until all the runners had been shuttled away then carefully delivered to wait for Mom to cross the first finish line. I was a little nervous for her being alone but making friends with the race director and finding other spectators gave me the ease I needed while she waited. 

Bryce Canyon (State #8)
2:57 time

266 out of 796 total runners

31 of 102 in my age division (30-39)

138 of 519 all female

13.1 miles total

2350 ft. in elevation change

{ Can you call that coffee? }

 { State #8 }

13,870 Days

Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. 

Psalm 139:16

This verse has become one that I park on often. 

I sit in my chair having conversations with God about why some people have fewer days than others and why far too many can't even take their first breath before already fulfilling their ordained amount of days destined to live. I can honestly say that if I knew how many days left I had to live, I would live differently. Don't fool yourself - you would do the same. 

I would take the time to update all the kids' scrapbooks (I'm a solid three years behind) and baby books (haven't even started Baylee's) writing them letters to read on their graduation day and wedding day (goals). I would organize my crap (it's called crafting; not crap) so others didn't have to filter through what I call treasure. I would travel with my family, take long walks with My Love, snuggle with my babies and stare at them all night long (yes, I would be creepy, weepy mom). I would sneak love notes throughout Tim's daily life so he would never forget his bride. 

The reality is God knew life would become exceedingly far too much if we all had an expiration date stamped on our life that we could track until completion. 

I officially have outlived my sister on this 38th birthday of mine. 

13,870 days old. 

I've lived 72 days longer than my big sister. 

Traci knew her days were growing shorter, but never did she stop living. 

She loved more. Laughed harder. Forgave quicker.

Death forces you to reevaluate your life. I've done more pondering, mediating and worshipping in the past year and half than I have in years. I've chosen to live like it could be my last. 

I chose the word pursue for my word this year. To pursue my family more fiercely,  to grow deeper in my faith, to pursue God's calling in my life more obediently and to learn to say no to noise and say yes to me. It's been an amazing year of growth and learning which has produced opportunities I never thought would be possible and challenges I never wanted to tackle. 

Today I celebrate the pursuit of life because I can with dark chocolate cupcakes, running shoes, Bible Study and my little blessings that can make me laugh and cry all in the same moment. I celebrate knowing I am loved deeply by a man I never thought I was deserving of and have a family that would follow me around the world. 

13,870 days of being loved well. 

I pray God grants me another day tomorrow so I can love even more, laugh even harder, fight for my dreams with more passion and seek God with no boundaries. I will live every day forward with the inspiration I gained from being loved by my sister; she made and still makes me a better person. 

Most importantly, I will live and celebrate knowing God pursued me long before I was even born, already having a purpose and passion calling placed in my life. 

I was no mistake. 

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

Psalm 139:13-14

Trifecta of Celebrations

Death. Marriage. Birthdays.
"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven."
Ecclesiastes 3:1

"...a time to be born and a time to die..."

April 17th, 2018.
Grandpa Broersma (a.k.a Cookie Grandpa) passed away after a failing mind for the past few years and a brief battle with congested heart failure. Grandpa was a stubborn man which is why he fought so hard in the end. I had the honor of visiting with Grandpa in the hospital the day he passed.
Nothing was more touching than witnessing forever love having to say goodbye. Watching Grandma's silent tears stream down her face, knowing those hours were her last with Grandpa, spoke of such tenderness that grew in their relationship.
Being married into the family, I can't divulge any family secrets or stories growing up together. The few years I did have with Grandpa Broersma were profound.
Grandpa guided Tim and I financially giving advice into budgeting and even carrying a small loan for us in the beginning of our marriage. There was never a moment that wasn't teachable. Even when Tim would borrow a garden tool, there was a lesson in how to return it cleaned and put in the exact spot it was found. If I were to list two things that I learned from Grandpa they would be stewardship and wisdom.
How Grandpa lived his life, from taking care of his home and "stuff" he owned to how he managed his life, stewardship and wisdom would cover it all. A straight forward, no fluff, called it as he saw it type of guy. One that loved his cookies in the cabinet by the TV (which all the grandkids know about) to lunch at just the right time in his private office downstairs; Grandpa was precise, scheduled, predictable and yet, in the last few years soft and gentle, sweet and romantic.
You could, and still can, see Grandma glow when she talks about her marriage.
What an incredible gift that is to all the family and a gift to all the grandson's to witness.
Tim grew up across the street from Grandma and Grandpa so you can imagine all the stories he has from his earlier years. One of his favorite pictures is of Grandpa just letting go of his bike without training wheels while Tim takes off pedaling. All that you see is pride on Grandpa's face; excitement and joy on Tim's.
Grandpa, our kids miss you already and Tim has lost a legacy in your journey Home.

If I Could Call You...

...I'd tell you about all the funny stories the girls have created recently and how big the kids are getting.

You'll love this one; I was so embarrassed.

The neighbors have a pussy willow tree that falls a little into our carport and the Little's noticed the fuzzy's in the sky. I decided to cut a small branch for the girls and used some others to display inside.
So far pretty innocent. Just wait.

The next day, when Myriam came home from school, the girls picked up their pre-cut stems, ran to the swings and around the backyard giggling and yelling at the top of their lungs, "Pussy, pussy, pussy!!!" One of those moments my hand couldn't get to their mouths fast enough as the neighbors were also enjoying the early spring sunshine listening to the vulgar sayings coming from the mouths of our little babes. 

Little, sweet baby number four continues to impress us with her knowledge and understanding of things no two year should know at her age. She sings to us, tells us her letters, points out her planets and can count when asked to. The unfortunate part of having a sponge for a mind and having older mouths coming and going is what she takes in when we don't realize it's even being said. Young uncle taught Bee a potty name that she repeats all the time not knowing what it means. Then, when I was being Mom and telling Bee not to play with the toilet brush and plunger, she looked up at me and scolded me stating, "That's b.s." 

Imagine my shock. Yeah. Not happy. Not sure where she heard that, but I'm telling myself it was a one time deal. Mom fail. 

Dad's been stepping up to the role of babysitter and doing a dang good job. He's still a major softy and can sometimes lose control of the situation easily which makes me laugh. One kid ate a shovel of dirt on his watch. Another time the diaper wasn't put on correctly as the little butt was a moving target which resulted in the next diaper draining down the leg. No painters tape was used though so I see it as improvement. Makes me laugh.

If I could call you, I know I'd hear you laughing hysterically to the chaos that unfolded.
I also know I'd hear you saying how proud you are of the Man Cub who is nailing his guitar lessons and doing awesome. Kid always has loved music and has a goal to play worship songs around our fire pit this summer. 

He's also good at spending money at Fairway Drug. Mama was not happy when he shared with me he spent $25 on candy and who knows what else. Almost made him return the junk, but most was already consumed. Maybe he misses all the spoiling and shopping trips by you and was trying to make up for that loss. Either way, I'm not sure I trust him with a nickel let alone a dollar bill!

Music seems to be a theme in the home actually. Myriam wants to take violin lessons and may start soon. She walks around with water bottles and sticks pretending to play. It's cute. I think the classical music and high range of notes could be soothing to her. 

I think you'd be floored knowing Addi is performing in her first musical this week. Yep, on stage, in a costume, in front of people and not shuddering in fear or backing off because she's shy. She privately teaches herself ukulele and just today, after two years, had her braces removed. 

It's terrifying. The pure beauty and innocence scares me. 

If I could call you I'd plan our trip to the tulip fields, but instead I'll tend to my own and wait in anticipation for the pink bulbs to bloom. The dogwood trees are showing signs of wanting to burst with pink flowers reminding me of how you loved spring and blossoms. Fragrant reminders throughout the gardens that make me smile when pulling weeds, trimming vines and yes, getting rid of the dead possum Addi stumbled on under the kitchen window. So gross. So ugly. 

If you could only see how fantastic Dad and Mom look. Crazy. You can't find anything sweet or crappy to eat in the house because it all has this healthy theme to it... unless Dad has treats hiding somewhere and not telling me. Baby brother wore his skirt again last weekend and rocked it playing the drums. 

If I could call you...

Well, the honest truth is that you did. No joke. They put your number back in service and gave it to some lady locally! Miss Bee grabbed my phone months ago and ended up calling you, well this person, hanging up and then that number called me back. Oh you would have been bent over laughing at me when I answered. I had a conversation with myself out loud as this stranger listened in confusion to me. 

"Traci, is that you? No wait you're dead. Traci? Come on it can't be her. You know better. 

Is this 319-XXXX? Are you Traci. Steph, come on. Get it together. Hello?"

Turns out this lady (I actually thought she was a man until she corrected me because her voice was so deep and raspy. I secretly gave her the name of Ol' Smokey.) got stuck on a family thread and after weeks of receiving these threads started to ask about our cousin. Next thing I know Ol' Smokey wanted me to come to her house and tell her what was needed to be approved as a foster home for her grandkids. I think Smokey thought she'd found a new best friend. Seriously, I think you planned this one just to give me some more crazy in my life. The extended family certainly got a good laugh from this too. 

If I could call you...

Well, if I were to be totally honest with myself...

I don't think you'd answer. 

If I were walking the streets of gold with Jesus and all my Bible Hero's, I'd let the machine take a message and send memories in the budding season and hummingbirds too. 

I know this because you did this week.

Until we can sit together and have eternal chats, keep the birds coming. 

I miss you sister.