For better or worse, In sickness and health....

What's love got to do, got to do, with it? What's love, but a second hand emotion. I love me some Tina Turner. But she was flat wrong on this one. Love has everything to do with making a marriage last. Celebrating my 10 year anniversary today is proof of that. These 10 years with my husband have been the best of times and the worst of times. But mostly the best. We celebrated the true unity of his children and me with our marriage in 2005.

Then we grieved pure loss of his job at Wilkes Tool and everything we had worked so hard for. We celebrated God opening that door of loss to show him that he should go back to school and become a barber. We honored God's vision and he went back to school. It was so difficult that most people don't know we had to live separately for a while to even make ends meet. (No folks, we weren't separated, his parent's home and my grandparent's home couldn't accommodate us all). We saw each other most evenings after work and spent the weekends together. Divorce was never an option for us. When we said our vows, we said "For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health". We didn't say "Only for better until it gets hard, only while we have a lot of money, and only while we're both healthy". Living separately only lasted about a month until we could get some debts paid off and find a place we could all move into. Jerry completed barber school and worked in Lenoir for a year. Then came time to take another leap of faith with God's guidance and open Hud's Barber Shop. God always provides when you follow his direction and give him the glory. We took foster parent classes soon after and made the decision to adopt. Again seeking God with this decision. My job at Wachovia closed and I became a stay at home mother to our beautiful foster children and God paved the way. Fast forward to 2015 Jerry's business is booming, we have adopted three beautiful children, our other two  gorgeous children are grown, we are stronger than ever in our faith, our marriage has God at the head of it and divorce never was even in the hard times and never will be an option for us. Love is a feeling but it is more a decision. You decide to love. There are days I don't feel like getting up but I do. There are days I get up and I don't feel like "feeling" but I decide to. I'm not saying we have it all figured out, and we certainly aren't perfect, but we haven't had the easiest road and we've made it. If more people would decide to love and decide to stay committed, their outcome might be a little different too.

The first day I met my youngest son.

I was driving home from my mom and dad's house. It was already getting dark and my cell phone rang. It was Melissa Hutchens from DSS giving me one of the best gifts my family would ever receive, it just took a long time to get to the good ending. "Hello". "Beth, we have two boys that need placement. One is 4 months old and one is 3 years old. Can you take them"? I said absolutely without hesitation-some would think I was nuts because we already had a 4 year old girl and 3 year old boy. Here is the baby that we met that evening in November 2012.

He was tiny, he smelled like smoke, his face was covered in eczema and his crystal blue eyes were cloudy, but it was love at first sight. He has double crowns so his hair grew in a baby Mohawk. A good bath for him and his brother and they fit right in. The "twins" as I called them because they were both 3 (Mauri and C) baby powdered the living room, wrote with string cheese on the front door, turned over the Christmas tree, and put all the DVDs inside the TV, just to name a few things. John-Blake continued to grow and thrive and gain weight. He learned to eat baby food and get on a good eating schedule. Saharra was enjoying having a real life baby doll to play with and help with. Then the phone call came that shattered us. "The case has been moved to a different county and they dismissed it. The children are returning home". Devastation ensued. There were many tears. I had said all along with all belief that God would not take away the children I was supposed to adopt and I had the adoption feeling with these two. So why was this happening?! We kept open communication with the mother and father. The mother and children lived with us for two weeks. We shared in his first birthday. We really had shared parenting down pat so that we could continue to be part of their lives. They came and went 5 different times. But each time the mother put more emphasis on us keeping John Blake forever. The struggle was hard on our family. It was hard on our marriage. God wouldn't let me let this family go. In Jerry's heartache, he was done. I wanted to protect my heart too, but God kept telling me to trust Him. This was the difficult part on our marriage. Sometimes God only tells one spouse. It's all part of trusting, obeying, being one with your spouse. Jerry had to trust me as much as I was trusting God. Whew. It was hard. But we made it. 

Jerry received a phone call in September 2013 from the mother that said "I can't do this anymore. Your son is coming home". We went and picked him up that very evening, signed and filed the adoption paperwork and Mr. Johnathon Blake Hudler has never looked back. We still keep up with C. He is well taken care of by his MiMi who we love dearly. Happy 3rd Birthday, my precious son. We've come a long way from the first day we met, but I knew then that it was love at first sight. God has a way of preparing the heart if we listen and trust and hold on and believe. It's not always easy, in fact, it almost never is, but here's proof, that good things come from following God's direction.

Ding Dong, Ding Dong, Wedding bells are ringing.

To start this off, I'm back from my very long hiatus from blogging. I had a very intense surgery, then some minor complications, then we travelled, then the wedding...busy busy. But, we're back by popular demand.

It started out as a very exciting day. May 29th 2015. This was marked as the rehearsal to my younger sister's wedding, but it was also the day my brother's children would meet my children in person for the first time. Now one would think that we would have maybe planned a day ahead for their meeting but we like to really take things by chance and live in the moment. My children and I arrive at the beautiful vineyard full of rocks and water and dirt. Where they are to remain clean and calm. With two boys. And it was hot. Am I painting a clear enough set up here? Then the cousins arrive. My three children and my brother's two scatter like cockroaches. They head down to a pond (no children are obviously allowed there and that's the first place they go). There are too many for us to keep up with. All the authoritative people are in the wedding party and are being called to line up and start practice. Gigi, Pawpaw, Me, Uncle Josh (daddy to two of them) and my children's father had not arrived yet. I called in a panic "Honey, where are you" Jerry: "Are they doing construction work there"? Me: "Um, no. That's John Blake and Bear beating a metal trash can with a stick".  Then I hear Mauri say "Mommy, I'm going to throw up". We did get them still long enough for a photo op. But you can see devil horns are out, mouths are wide open, silly faces are happening and Mauri's head is an armrest.

I finally get my daddy's belt and dare my three children to move until their daddy gets there.

Fast forward until wedding day. Saturday, May 30th, 2015. Again, it was outside, hot and there was red dirt that the kids could play with in their black suits before the wedding. If it were not for Kayla Williams coming along, I would have been more of a nervous wreck than I was. She helped maintain my children while I did bridesmaid duties. 

As I was scrolling through my sister's wedding pictures, Lauren Waterhouse captured this gem right here.

The children from left to right: Saharra is prim and proper, Sanae has her tongue out, Mauri is looking for a place to run, Bear's hair is wild and his eyes closed because John Blake the sneaky snake has pushed him at the perfect moment. 

Not to take away from the wedding with the silliness, it was a gorgeous wedding. I was honored to be a part of my sister's special day. She and Kevin are perfect for each other. I've gotten to see them stay together through college, see the engagement and now the wedding. So to the newly weds, I wish you a life of joy, happiness, good communication and children who are not nearly as wild as your nieces and nephews.

He had to be moved at lunch for comments about his hotdog...

(Que sirens here) This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill! I thought all those years growing up with a brother would prepare me for this moment and NOTHING. Zilch, nada. I got nothing. I stared at the ominous note from the teacher (teachers, if you're reading this, I adore you. Keep doing what you're doing). Usually I am able to write something back to them. "We are addressing the problem, we are working on it", etc. All I could do was put a check mark and my initials to acknowledge I had seen it. Here it is in all of its glory. 

To hear his side of the story, hotdog was not a metaphor. They had hotdogs for lunch and he was, gasp, waving it around and saying "things". That's the only story I got. Quite frankly, that's the only story I want. Raising boys is not for the faint of heart. They're gross. They think body functions are hysterical (neither of these first two statements decline much with age). But they love as hard as they possibly can. Here's the culprit, I mean, precious angel. 

Both of these were faces he was making during family photos.

Now, on to the good things. This is just a phase (hopefully). He didn't learn this at home (we certainly don't behave this way). He's a brilliant child with chestnut brown eyes and I know he's going places. He's testing me to every limit and boundary I have, but that's okay. Mauri has made me break out my "Wise Words for Moms" by Ginger Plowman, more than once. Ginger missed the section on when he decides to "comment about his hotdog". In our home, we do discipline, love, sorry, fun, Bible reading and prayer. Lots of the last two. 

So for now, this Mommy is praying with her little foul-mouthed babe from :

Psalm 19:14 ESV Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

Parents tell their children to "be good because (insert fictitious person here; ie, Santa, Easter Bunny, etc) is watching" but I want my children to strive to "be good" because that's how Jesus was and we are called to be imitators of Christ.

God is a God of second chances.

Wait a minute. I wasn't ready. I call a do-over. A mulligan. I want another try. I feel like this almost on a daily basis. In one form or another I fail. I kept the kids safe, but we didn't eat as healthy as I would like. We made it to church but there were huge meltdowns and we spent the whole time fussing. We didn't make it to church at all.

Take a minute. Breathe. While I'm busy losing it, God is already busy forgiving me and giving me a second chance. And I'm so grateful. There is no measure of sin. A sin is a sin. But our God is a God of second chances. (Who would have thought an early morning Jonah Veggie Tales movie would've led me to write this)

Luke 7:49 ESV ..."Who is this, who even forgives sins?"

Thank you God for reminding me that you provide second chances to everyone. No matter the magnitude of sin, no matter how unworthy we feel, you are the forgiven of sins. If I only cry out to you and ask, you make me new each day.

Photo credits (http://harvestgainesville.org/series/hes-a-second-chance-god/)

I want my Mommy!!

I want my Mommy! No, really. Me. I want *MY* Mommy!

Almost three weeks out post-op and the past three days, I have started running a fever. Not an infection fever. A "you've done way too much and you need to sit your behind down" fever. Fast forward to today when it hit the fan. I was feeling terrible, the big kids wanted to go outside and play, daddy was at work and John Blake needed a nap.

I get everyone fed lunch and laid down and John Blake decides it's time to fight me. He hits me and kicks me, right in my incision. I saw stars. Then came the tears. My tears. All I needed was for him to lay down and go to sleep. Just this one day. Any other day, he would've done it, but the day I felt the worst, he complied the least. I begged him. I bribed him. He hit me. I spanked him. (That made no parenting sense whatsoever. I'm spanking you because you hit me. But I wasn't in my right mind). There was only one thing left to do. Cry for my Mama. I admit it whole heartedly. I'm 32 years old and I wanted nothing more than my mom to be right here with me. I called her in tears. The conversation went something like this: "(sob) I'm feeling worse instead of better, (sniffle) I shouldn't have tried to do it by myself this week, (sob) I still need help". My mom calmly listened. She acknowledged that my surgery was a major one and that I did need additional help and she offered a solution just like I knew she would. I can always count on her.

It's not always been this way. My mom and I butted heads for a number of years. That was completely my fault. I blame it on hormones and stubbornness. But as I've grown up, gotten married and especially since becoming a mother myself, I've grown to appreciate my mother. Immensely. Thank you Mama for all of your help since my surgery.

Psalm 119:147 ESV I rise before dawn and cry for help; I hope in your words.

Thank you God for showing me that I cannot receive help if I do not ask for it. Thank you for my Mama!

Huh? I didn't hear you.

Hey kids, come pick up your toys before daddy gets home. Hey Saharra, come do your homework and pack your lunch. Hey Mauri, what are you doing? Hey....anybody listening? Guys. "Huh? I didn't hear you". I feel like I'm constantly repeating myself. I'm a scratched CD that keeps skipping. No one hears me. No one is listening.

It could be the dandelion stuck in his ear. Or it could be that they're busy. They're off playing, doing their own thing. Too busy for whatever mom may want. And then I think, that's how God must feel about me. Beth, hey Beth. Are you listening? I don't have a dandelion stuck in my ear, but I am busy. I don't quiet myself long enough to listen for His voice, most days. I don't divulge in His Word because I'm too busy, most days. We are His children. He has the desire to shape us and mold us and guide us. The way we have the desire to do the same for our own children. But we have to listen. We have to be open to His suggestions and His warnings and His love. We've got to start requiring the same of ourselves that we do of our children, TO LISTEN.

Proverbs 19:20 ESV Listen to advice and accept instruction , that you may gain wisdom in the future.

Thank you God for showing me that I need to be still and quiet and listen. You are there to show me the way if I would only accept the instruction.