Four Years, Seven Days

Last Wednesday we celebrated Giggles' 4th Birthday. What a happy day! She is so exuberant and full of life that she brings joy to any occasion, but when it's her birthday it's extra exciting.

She had faithfully done the birthday countdown for the week leading up to her day...and she didn't miss a beat; with fingers displaying the number of days left, she was 100% accurate. House FULL birthdays always start with a run to our small island grocery to pick up donuts for breakfast. Later in the evening, we had a small family party at home with her grandparents, our adopted great-grands and her siblings. "Small family party" is a relative term...

On Birthday Saturday, Daddy wakes up the birthday child while the other kids are still sleeping. They make a repeat run to the island grocery for a donut and strawberry milk and drive to the beach for a 'walk and talk'. It's a highlight for all, and Giggles was no exception as she returned home and bounced through the door...giggling.

Sunday night was the most anticipated event, however. Our church has recently reinstated the "Birthday Bank." Giggles marched into evening service with her four pennies carefully pocketed. When her turn came, she was almost beside herself with an ear to ear smile...her enthusiasm was so great, she could hardly stand still long enough to get her pennies into the bank!! Someone later asked me if she'd needed to use the bathroom while she was onstage. Nope, she was just that excited!! I really wish I'd had the video camera...

One of the greatest accomplishments of her third year was that she stopped sucking her thumb. Her success story is a depiction of her personality. At her semi-annual dental check up last summer, the dentist explained that pretty soon she'd need to stop sucking her thumb for the sake of her teeth. No big hurry, he said, just something to start thinking about. He then shared that when she stopped sucking her thumb for seven whole days, Mommy could make a call to his office and he'd send a present in the mail. Before we left, I whispered to the hygienist that she'd never do it; I still couldn't get this going-on-three-and-half-year-old potty trained!!

Three days after the appointment, Giggles came to me and stated matter-of-factly, "Mommy, I'm not sucking my thumb anymore." Hmmm...I hadn't noticed. But I started to pay attention. Sure enough, no daytime comfort sucking. I doubted she could be successful so quickly. That night I went up to check on her several times as she slept. While her hand was tucked up under her chin in a sucking position, her thumb was not in her mouth!! And she never sucked that silly thumb again. At the end of the week, we called the dentist to report the exciting news and, true to his word, he sent her a My Little Pony and a $10 Target gift card!!

And that's just how Giggles does life. She gets something set in her mind and does it (and she did finally get the potty thing down!!). Her determination and will, when directed properly, are something to be admired!!

She brings so much life to our days and truly is a ray of sunshine in our home. We can't imagine life without her and are so thankful for the gift the Lord chose to give us and let us keep.

We love you, Princess Bella Giggles!!

Thankful for the Thorns

This week, as I am reflecting on all the ways God has blessed me, and all the obvious reasons to be thankful, I am compelled to thank Him also for the trials. The thorns in my flesh that have stretched me, that have challenged me, that have sanctified me, that have ultimately crowded me to Christ.

So, Happy Thanksgiving from our house to yours. May you take a moment to reflect on the thorns in your life and see the beauty that they have brought.

The Thanksgiving Special
Author Unknown

Sandra felt as low as the heels of her Birkenstocks as she pushed against a November gust and the florist shop door. Her life had been easy, like a spring breeze. Then in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, an automobile accident had stolen her ease. During this Thanksgiving week she would have delivered a son. She grieved over her loss. As if that weren’t enough, her husband’s company threatened a transfer. Then her sister, whose holiday visit she coveted, called saying she could not come. What’s worse, Sandra’s friend infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer.

Has she lost a child?—No. She has no idea what I’m feeling. Sandra shuddered. Thanksgiving? Thankful for what?—she wondered. For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life but took that of her child?

“Good afternoon. Can I help you?” The flower shop clerk’s approach startled her. “Sorry,” said the clerk, whose name was Jenny. “I just didn’t want you to think I was ignoring you.”

“I need an arrangement.”

“For Thanksgiving?”

Sandra nodded.

“Do you want beautiful but ordinary, or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the Thanksgiving Special?” Jenny saw Sandra’s curiosity and continued. “I’m convinced that flowers tell stories, that each arrangement suggests a particular feeling. Are you looking for something that conveys gratitude this Thanksgiving?”

“Not exactly!” Sandra blurted. “Sorry, but in the last five months, everything that could have gone wrong has.”

Sandra regretted her outburst but was surprised when Jenny said, “I have the perfect arrangement for you.” The door’s small bell suddenly rang.

“Barbara! Hi,” Jenny said. “I have your order ready. Just a moment.” She politely excused herself from Sandra and walked toward a small workroom. She quickly reappeared carrying a massive arrangement of greenery, bows, and long-stemmed thorny roses. Only, the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped, no flowers. “Want this in a box?” Jenny asked.

Sandra watched for Barbara’s response. Was this a joke? Who would want rose stems and no flowers! She waited for laughter, for someone to notice the absence of flowers atop the thorny stems, but neither woman did.

“Yes, please. It’s exquisite,” said Barbara. “You’d think after three years of getting the Special, I’d not be so moved by its significance, but it’s happening again. My family will love this one. Thanks.”

Sandra stared. Why so normal a conversation about so strange an arrangement? she wondered. Sandra pointed and blurted out, “That lady just left with, uh…”

“Yes?”

“Well, she had no flowers!”

“Right, I cut off the flowers.”

“Off?”

“Off. Yep. That’s the special. I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet.”

“But, why do people pay for that?” In spite of herself, Sandra chuckled.

“Do you really want to know?”

“I couldn’t leave this shop without knowing. I’d think about nothing else!”

“Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling very much like you feel today,” Jenny explained. “She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer, the family business was failing, her son was taking drugs, and she faced major surgery.”

“Ouch!” said Sandra.

“That same year,” Jenny explained, “I had lost my husband. I assumed complete responsibility for the shop and for the first time, spent the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to allow any travel.”

“What did you do?”

“I learned to be thankful for thorns.”

Sandra’s eyebrows lifted. “Thorns?”

“I’m a Christian. I’ve always thanked God for good things in life and I never thought to ask Him why good things happened to me. But when bad stuff hit, did I ever ask! It took time to learn that dark times are important. I had always enjoyed the ‘flowers’ of life but it took thorns to show me the beauty of God’s comfort. You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we’re afflicted and from His consolation we learn to comfort others.”

Sandra gasped. “A friend read that passage to me and I was furious! I guess the truth is I don’t want comfort. I’ve lost a baby and I’m angry with God.” She started to ask Jenny to go on when the door’s bell diverted their attention.

“Hey, Phil!” shouted Jenny as a balding, rotund man entered the shop. She softly touched Sandra’s arm and moved to welcome him. He pulled her to his side for a warm hug. “I’m here for twelve thorny long-stemmed stems!” Phil laughed, heartily.

“I figured as much,” said Jenny. “I’ve got them ready.” She lifted a tissue-wrapped arrangement from the refrigerated cabinet.

“Beautiful,” said Phil. “My wife will love them.”

Sandra could not resist asking. “These are for your wife?” Phil saw that Sandra’s curiosity matched his when he first heard of a thorn bouquet. “If you don’t mind my asking, why thorns?”

“I don’t mind. In fact, I’m glad you asked,” he said. “Four years ago my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real mess, but we slogged through, problem by rotten problem. God rescued our marriage—our love, really. Last Thanksgiving I stopped in here for flowers. I must have mentioned surviving a tough process because Jenny told me that for a long time she had kept a vase of rose stems—stems! —as a reminder of what she had learned from thorny times. That was good enough for me. I took home stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific thorny situation and give thanks for what the problem taught us. I’m pretty sure this stem review is becoming a tradition.”

Phil paid Jenny, thanked her again, and as he left, said to Sandra, “I highly recommend the Special!”

“I don’t know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life,” Sandra said to Jenny.

“Well, my experience says that the thorns make the roses more precious. We treasure God’s providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, Jesus wore a crown of thorns so that we might know His love. Do not resent thorns.”

Tears rolled down Sandra’s cheeks. For the first time since the accident she loosened her grip on resentment. “I’ll take twelve long-stemmed thorns, please.”

“I was hoping you would,” Jenny said. “I’ll have them ready in a minute. Then, every time you see them, remember to appreciate both good and hard times. We grow through both.”

“Thank you. What do I owe you?”

“Nothing. Nothing but a pledge to work toward allowing God to heal your heart. The first year’s arrangement is always on me.” Jenny handed a card to Sandra. “I’ll attach a card like this to your arrangement, but maybe you’d like to read it first. It’s a prayer that was written by a man who was blind. Go ahead, read it.”

My God, I have never thanked Thee for my thorn! I have thanked Thee a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorn. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear. Teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed to Thee by the path of pain. Show me that my tears have made my rainbow.
—George Matheson (1842–1906)

Jenny said, "Happy Thanksgiving, Sandra," handing her the Special. "I look forward to our knowing each other better."

Sandra smiled. She turned, opened the door, and walked toward hope.

… a thorn was given me in the flesh …Three times I pleaded to the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
II Cor 12:7-11 (ESV)

Under the Influence

A couple of weeks ago I had the distinct pleasure (?!) of spending a morning in the dentist's chair. Admittedly, I am a complete wimp when it comes to pain and discomfort, so almost before I sat down, I requested the nitrous oxide mask. Please, please...and turn it up!! As I lay there, completely at Dr. Smith's mercy, God reminded me of something vitally important.

It's about my mind.

You see, Dr. Smith was poking and drilling and digging and wrenching my mouth. He really was. I could feel it. But not really. I heard him talking, explaining all the horrible (!) things he was doing. But I didn't feel the pain. He'd thoroughly numbed the spots he was working on. He knew what he had to do and how long it would take and how much Novocaine I needed. He even gave me a little shelf to rest my tired jaw on. But most importantly, I had the nitrous.

I was in a state of euphoria. I was listening to conversations, sensing the twisting and pulling in my mouth, but it was all good, because the nitrous was making me think good things.

In those moments there was no pain, there was no doubt, there were no struggles. While I was aware of the issues, they had no affect on me. In that chair, I was the most patient mother in the world and all my children's character struggles were completely manageable. In that chair, I was married to the greatest man on earth, one whose sins and faults were totally insignificant. In that chair, I could handle anything. God could handle anything. In that chair everything was good!

Because I was under the influence.

When the work was over and Dr. Smith's assistant sweetly told me she was going to turn the nitrous down and the oxygen up, I silently screamed, "NO!!"

I wanted to stay there forever. I didn't want the good thoughts to go away.

Then God spoke to my heart.

They don't have to.

If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you (John 15:7).

Set your mind on things that are above, not on things that are on earth (Col 3:2).

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things (Phil 4:6-8).

Truths I know, but so often fail to apply.

I need to stay under His influence.

Not because I'll have perfect children, a sinless marriage or an easy life. But because possessing His thoughts and His truth, allowing Him to carry the weight of the yoke, results in the renewing of my mind. Results in having His perspective.

Even when I'm being tugged and pulled and poked. Even when the things He's allowed into my world cause pain.

The pain is for my ultimate good and His ultimate glory.

He knows just how long it will take. He knows just how much relief I need. And He knows just what to do with my mind.

The Will of God

Happy Thursday! Thank you for your prayers and love this week. I have been strengthened and encouraged at critical times and I know it's the intercession and prayers of the saints that have carried me.

I am reminded of the story of Joshua and the Israelites defeating the Amalekites in Exodus 17:

Now Amalek came and fought with Israel in Rephidim. And Moses said to Joshua, “Choose us some men and go out, fight with Amalek. Tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill with the rod of God in my hand.” So Joshua did as Moses said to him, and fought with Amalek. And Moses, Aaron, and Hur went up to the top of the hill. And so it was, when Moses held up his hand, that Israel prevailed; and when he let down his hand, Amalek prevailed. But Moses’ hands became heavy; so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it. And Aaron and Hur supported his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side; and his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. So Joshua defeated Amalek and his people with the edge of the sword. Then the LORD said to Moses, “Write this for a memorial in the book and recount it in the hearing of Joshua, that I will utterly blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven.” And Moses built an altar and called its name, The-LORD-Is-My-Banner. (v. 8-15)

When Moses didn't have the strength to lift up his own hands, his friends and co-laborers in the battle came to his aid and gave their support and the battle was won!

I was reading Pamela's blog the other day and loved this poem. Hers is one I wish I could force (with love and a smile of course!) everyone to follow, but since I can't, I just pilfer material occasionally. Be blessed today as you are a blessing to me.

The Will of God

The will of God will never take you
Where the grace of God cannot keep you
Where the arms of God cannot support you
Where the riches of God cannot supply your needs
Where the power of God cannot endow you.

The will of God will never take you
Where the Spirit of God cannot work through you
Where the wisdom of God cannot teach you
Where the army of God cannot protect you
Where the hands of God cannot mold you.

The will of God will never take you
Where the love of God cannot enfold you
Where the mercies of God cannot sustain you
Where the peace of God cannot calm your fears
Where the authority of God cannot overrule for you.

The will of God will never take you
Where the comfort of God cannot dry your tears
Where the Word of God cannot feed you
Where the miracles of God cannot be done for you
Where the omnipresence of God cannot find you.

Everything happens for a purpose
We may not see the wisdom of it all now,
but trust and believe in the Lord
that everything is for the best.

Author Unknown

Testimony Friday

Two weeks I ago I posted about waiting. I was in a place of waiting. Not so much for some thing, but for a heart change and an attitude adjustment that I desperately needed. I had let the pressures of life build up and lost sight of some truths. This was something I had been trying for months to rectify in my own strength, but to no avail.

My waiting post was an act of surrender. It was a confession to my Lord that I needed Him to do the work in me that I couldn't do myself. He alone could be the transformer of this wicked heart of mine. And do you know what? He did it.

As I sat up late typing that night, a peace swept over my soul. No fireworks, no drama, no instant knowledge of renewal and regeneration. Just a quiet and gentle peace.

When I woke up the next morning, my heart was in a different place. The old stuff wasn't bugging me as much. The will of my flesh had subsided and my spirit was at rest. I realized that my act of surrender was more than words on a page, it had been a true transformation of my heart. God had allowed to me to come to the end of myself, and my SELF was a little more dead than she had been the day before.

All this to proclaim how perfect God's timing is. I had been carrying that big old bag of burden for far too long. I knew it and God knew it. And it was time for me to let that big old bag of burden go. I didn't know that, but God did.

You see, the following afternoon Steve gave me the unexpected news that he will soon be laid off. This month or next, we're not sure, but it's coming. It was a shock. He had been guaranteed work at least through November, so although we knew there was a potential end in sight, it was far enough down the road that we weren't especially concerned.

Well, things change. And that changed.

But it's okay. It really is. And we're okay. There is peace in this house about it. There is peace in our hearts. Oh yes, from time to time we pick up the worry and we begin to fret and stew, but then we remember it really won't help anything and we pray.

We know who our Provider is. So this isn't a bad thing. In fact, we're rather excited to see what God is going to do.

My testimony, however, is this: God dealt with my heart on issues completely unrelated to Steve's job in His perfect timing. He heard the cry of my waiting lamentation and took care of that thing, because only He knew that come tomorrow I was going to have a new thing to give Him. And because He had just proven Himself in that thing, giving Him the new thing wasn't so difficult.

Instead of killing me, it strengthened me. He freed me up and gave me the portion I needed in His amazingly perfect, incredible timing.

And that is the power and love and grace and mercy of our God. He will not give us more than we can bear. His word says it. He is faithful to prove it.

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Matthew 11:28-30

Cast your burden on the LORD, and He shall sustain you; He shall never permit the righteous to be moved.

Psalm 55:22

My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.

James 1:2-8

Testimony Friday

Steve is in New York for a few days visiting family and attending his grandmother's funeral. I miss him.

Not just because he isn't here to rescue me at the end of a crazy day. Not just because he isn't here to help with dishes and do our nightly devotions. Not just because I'm bored and wishing for some adult conversation after the kids are settled in bed. Although in all these areas I do miss him.

The real reason I miss him is because he truly is my better half and my better part is absent.

I remember the stormy years of our marriage when he was traveling every week for work. At the time, that job was a God-send. He'd fly out first thing Monday morning and come home late Wednesday or Thursday night. Friday was usually good, Saturday would be shaky, and by Sunday I was anxious for Monday so he'd leave again. We didn't get along well enough to handle being together more than three days a week!

How faithful God has been. How much He has restored. Now, he's been gone less than 24 hours and I can't wait for him to come home!

I'm thankful for the reminder of how far we've come. So often, when I get to a new place in life, I forget about the old place. I start to feel stagnant and begin to believe that nothing ever changes. The truth is, I'm always changing. For better or worse, change is taking place.

It's good to look back and see how God's hand has moved. How much things have changed. I am so very grateful that life is not the way it used to be. In Christ, there is always hope.

Looking Back

Today I sit and reflect on 2008 and anticipate the changes we are looking forward to in 2009. I didn't get a Christmas letter out this year, but if I had, the summary of our year would look something like this:

January got us off to a great start. Avery broke her foot (as AJ had just 6 months before...we're all for helping the local podiatrist feed his family!)...well, actually Aiden broke her foot, but we'll leave it at that. Sigourney and Avery both got pneumonia (again, we love keeping our physicians employed!) and we were down for most of the month!

February was much better. We cashed in the remainder of Steve's frequent flier miles and spent 10 glorious days on Maui with my parents. Three years of non-stop travel had to benefit us somehow! AJ lost his first tooth (the first without the help of a dentist anyway!) on the Road to Hana and Sigourney loved crawling in, and occasionally eating, the sand. We whale watched and body surfed and spent lots of time just hanging out on the beach. On the plane trip home, we decided we were glad we'd used the last of our miles because four kids on a plane for six hours was not an experience we wanted to repeat any time soon!

In March Aiden turned two. He'd been acting like he was two for quite awhile, but finally made it official! Cars, trucks, and anything with wheels are hands-down favorites. We find them in his bed, in the shower, in the pantry...just follow the Matchbox trail, and there Aiden will be. He does an amazing job keeping up with his older brother and sister and emphatically states that he is "not a baby, 'Gourney is a baby." With March also came the announcement that a new Somma would soon be arriving.

April was a big month. Sigourney turned one on the 6th and had a grand mal seizure on the 13th. What a way to celebrate a birthday -- she even got an airlift out of the deal. You can read more about her experience and prognosis here. A week after her seizure ordeal we attended a homeschool conference that radically changed our perspective on our childrens' education and the calling God had for us in their lives. We knew it was His timing and we heard Him loud and clear. Being faced with the possibility of loosing a child made us realize we don't have a moment to waste.

May brought Sigourney's second grand mal seizure and subsequent epilepsy diagnosis. We were so thankful to finally have an answer and to get her on medication. Thankfully, from a grand mal standpoint, she has been seizure free.

In June we celebrated AJ and Avery's 6th and 5th birthdays and Grandpa Joe visited from Florida. AJ is into riding his bike, playing baseball in the backyard, and donning his army gear to go find "bad guys" in the woods. Avery is into all things feminine as she refuses to wear pants, loves to help mom in the kitchen, and hosts fabulous tea parties for her siblings, her friends and anyone else who stops in for a visit.

July and August were pretty disappointing weather-wise, but we spent as much time as possible at our local parks and beaches. Avery taught herself to ride her bike without training wheels (in a dress of course!), Sigourney started walking and Aiden got a clean bill of health from his surgeon. The portion of his lung that was removed when he was three months old is regenerating as expected. By the time he is seven, when looking at an x-ray an untrained eye will never know it was missing.

September brought my sister Erin's outdoor wedding on what seemed like the rainiest day of the year. Avery and her cousin Shae were "flower fairies" and the nephews were cowboys. It was a race to the finish as we took bets on what would come first, the wedding or the baby...fortunately the wedding won. We also began our homeschool adventure with AJ in first grade and Avery in kindergarten.

Lydia Rose joined us October 6th. Another quick delivery and a precious baby girl. Avery was thrilled to have a blue-eyed sister and once AJ held her in his arms, he got over his disappointment at not having another brother. Lydia is the recipient of much love and affection at our house; she has lots of baby-holders, and a couple of diaper changers. She is our loudest crier yet, but we have concluded that it is probably the only way she knows she'll be heard.

In November, Steve started work on a new project in an exclusive Seattle neighborhood. We are thankful for people with large trust funds who continue to build houses in this rough market. His commute is long, but I think he secretly enjoys the peace and quiet of his truck for three hours a day!

Our church also went through a significant restructuring in November, and a group of us is now meeting in the home of dear friends. It definitely doesn't look like church as we have known it, but we are seeing God move mightily. It has been a wonderful environment for our family as we are building stronger relationships. We are coming to understand that our spiritual discipleship and growth should not be left to a church on Sundays, but should be taking place all week long within the walls of our home. It has been an exciting journey.

December brought with it one of the biggest and most fun snowfalls the NW has seen in a long time. We ended up with over 20 inches at our house! While the typical snow pattern here is snow one day and rain the next, we saw continued snowfall for almost two weeks. The kids spent lots of time sledding down the hill in front of our house, and Steve brought his New York snow experience into the mix by building them the coolest fort in the neighborhood.

Christmas Eve we spent with my family. My cousin Seth was home from Iraq and joined us with his twin girls, so we had 22 people, twelve of them children and ten of those under the age of eight! It was pretty crazy!

Christmas Day was one of the best ever as we spent it with some dear friends. We ate great food, sang carols, read scripture and the kids put on a spectacular Christmas story performance.

Also, in December I shocked friends and family by starting this blog. I have found it a great way to share what God is doing in my heart and life and home. As I write, I realize that although I am easily discouraged with myself and the growth I would like to be making, the Lord continues to mold, shape and refine me.

The year of 2008 was a blessed one for the Somma household. The life we experienced stimulated growth and dependence on God in ways we would have otherwise never imagined. We look forward to 2009 and anticipate the changes it, too, will bring, being confident in this:

Now to Him who is able to do exceedingly, abundantly more than we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen

Ephesians 3:20-21

A Tribute

Two years ago today, our dear friend Mark Panzanella was ushered through the gates of heaven and into the arms of Jesus. Here on earth, he left behind his wonderful wife Nicole, and his two young daughters, Francesca and Gianna, who are now 8 and 6 years old. My heart goes out to Nicole and the girls in a special way today, so I'm dedicating this post to them and to Mark's memory.

Mark was radical. Nothing Mark did was "the norm." He laughed loud, loved hard, and served Jesus with an all or nothing spirit.

Hailing from Ohio, Mark was an avid Cleveland Browns and Indians fan. He and Steve spent many hours sharing their love of sports and razzing each other about who claimed the better team.

Mark loved being Italian. As couples we'd sit out on their back porch on the weekends eating the great food that Mark loved to prepare, listening to funky Italian music. One of our favorite songs was That's Amore. Mark is still the first person I think of when I hear it.

Mark gave the greatest whole-hearted, squeeze-you-to-death hugs on the face of the planet.

Mark stood up for us at our wedding and believed in our relationship when we were hearing from a lot of naysayers. He saw a God connection that didn't necessarily make sense and encouraged us to look to Him rather than for the approval of man.

Mark had a heart to worship God. He would play for hours on Sundays (and Thursdays and Fridays and Saturdays...) and seemingly never tire. He was a true 'Nagan' worshipper. We still love watching some of our old Church of the Hills videos and catching a glimpse of Mark on the keyboard. He had a gift for music that he gave back to the Lord by using it to honor and glorify Him.

Mark always, always, always kept his eyes on the Lord and drew his strength from Him. He and Steve were the key players in the video ministry at our church. For Steve, it was mostly a hobby. It was Mark's profession and livelihood. He didn't get paid enough and could have made a lot more money somewhere else, but he wouldn't think about it. He wasn't doing it for a particular church or for public acclaim, he was doing it for the Lord. He believed he was exactly where God wanted him to be and nothing else mattered. He knew God was his provider and Mark placed a much higher priority on living in the will of God than having a fat bank account.

I asked Steve this morning if he wanted to contribute any thoughts to this post. He said "Mark loved the Lord with all his heart. He was one of the most committed men I have ever met. And I am better for having known him. He is in heaven, side by side with his Savior and I know I'll see him again. That about sums it up. That's all that matters."

So Nicole, we love you. We know that this day is hardest on you as you remember all that you have lost here on earth. May your memories of Mark be sweet and may you feel the arms of Jesus around you in a profound way. May God give you the strength you need to raise your girls to be as committed to Him as their daddy was. May He provide for your every need in such a way that you can truly rest in Him.

Francesca and Gianna, be assured that your daddy is waiting for you in heaven. I see so much of him in both of you. In your broad smiles and the sparkle in your eyes. More than anything else, the legacy your dad would want you to carry on would be in your love for Jesus Christ. May God show Himself to you in such a real way that as you mature you become as sold-out and radical as your daddy was.

In our carnal minds, it's hard to understand why God chose to take Mark at such a young age. I can only imagine that God was so pleased with him that He wanted him in heaven more than we needed him here. I can almost picture Mark sitting at the feet of Jesus worshiping and praising Him...and asking that He would please give the Cleveland Indians a better season than the Browns had!

Clean Up

Christmas is over and I feel like I'm in a mess!

Yes, the house is part of it. All these new THINGS to find a place for. All the little parts and pieces to organize and put away. All the decorations that need to be boxed and stashed until next year. All the needles I'll be vacuuming from that real tree I so desperately needed. Yes, the stuff is getting to me.

But it's more than that. For some reason, Christmas does not bring out the best in me. Maybe it's memories of Christmas disappointments past or the unmet expectations of Christmas present. Maybe it's the strained family relationships that always seem to come into focus this time of year. Maybe it's thinking too much about how it should have been, but wasn't. The baking I didn't get done, the craft projects I didn't finish, and the people we didn't see. I'm not really sure. And I can analyze it to death, but it probably won't help.

The truth is that the mess is me. I can blame it on all the outside circumstances I want, but the circumstances are merely symptomatic of what's inside my heart. I choose my responses and this week they have not been pretty. I have been reacting way too much. My emotions are heightened and I'm giving them too much power.

Oh, I know what I'm supposed to do and how I'm supposed to respond. In fact, in my mind, it's all played out the "right" way. But what actually comes out of my mouth and in my attitude? That's another story! It's easy to determine in a quiet house when everyone is sleeping that it will be a lot easier at the break of day. But the stresses of life will erupt again.

The question that begs answering is: what's spilling out of my cup? If I have poured milk into my daughter's breakfast cup and it gets knocked over, the only thing that can come out of that cup is milk because that's what I put in it. What spills out is what it's filled with. Same with me.

So what's in my cup? Is it Jesus or is it me? If I'm truly filled with the Spirit of my Lord, He's the only thing that can spill out. But when I'm filled with the spirit of Sara, yuck!, it is anything but lovely.

And much too often, I am filled with myself. I am full of self-centerdness and pride. It's my way or the highway around here. And that attitude affects my household. It provokes my husband and unsettles my children. And the whole house gets to be a mess. But guess who started it? Me!

I have so much power in my home. I have the power to build it up and make it a lovely, peaceful place. Or I have the power to tear it down and make it a chaotic, emotional mess. Moment by moment. In every situation.

So as I contemplate the days to come and the new year I am soon to ring in, God is reminding me that I have a choice. I am not a victim of circumstance. I have a decision to make. I don't have to be in a mess. My house doesn't have to be in shambles. Just as I will find places for all the stuff lying around, I have a place to put my heart stuff too.

At the foot of the cross.

I just celebrated the birth of my Savior. Jesus came as a sweet little baby not to stay a baby, but to bear the ugly burden of my ugly sin on an ugly cross. It was anything but sweet. But it was loving. And it was for me.

Christmas 2008 is over, but the story isn't. There is hope for me, and I am so, so thankful.

Who Do I Look Like?

With a new baby in the house, we've been making a lot of "I see you in her eyes," and "Oh, that expression looks like so-and-so" observations. Lydia is transforming before our eyes. Each day her appearance is becoming more and more defined. We're excited to see what the end result will be.

All of our children look like Sommas. Some look more like Steve, some look more like me and a couple are perfect combos. But there are qualities and characteristics in each of them that tie them to our family. That make it clear that Steve and I are their parents.

Ultimately our prayer is that they resemble their Heavenly Father most of all. That people will see Jesus in our children, and not just when they are children, but for their whole lives. That they will have hearts of compassion, that they will stand for truth and righteousness, and that their words, attitudes and actions will direct others into relationship with Him.

Although I know God is Sovereign, I also know that much of this responsibility lies with Steve and I. God gave our children to us so that we would show them who He is.

What do my children see when they look at me? They certainly know my faults and my failures better than most, but when I make mistakes what do I do about it? Do they see me repent and ask for forgiveness? Or do I get away with bad attitudes and sometimes even bad behavior that I would never allow from them because I'm the mommy?

I cannot live a life of hypocrisy. My actions and behaviors must reflect Jesus to them. What I expect of them, I must also expect of myself. I am the example God gave them to follow. If I expect kind words from them, I must speak kindness. If I expect self control from them, I must be self-controlled. If I expect selflessness from them, I must be selfless. And on and on and on.

So often I find myself frustrated by my children's behavior and then realize they're acting just like me! It's too easy to get complacent at home. I get tired, let my hair down and it all hangs out. Sometimes it is not pretty. But home is where I need to be most on top of my game. I have lots of little eyes watching me. I have lots of little people acting like me. I have lots of little hearts mimicking mine.

When my children look at me, I long for them to say, "My mommy has Jesus' eyes. My mommy has Jesus' heart. My mommy loves me like she says Jesus loves me." Each and every day I want the qualities and characteristics in my life to look more like my Heavenly Father, so that my children too, will look more like Him.

Sigourney

Sigourney had her 18 month well-child check yesterday. Yes, we are a couple of months behind, but I was delivering a baby on her 18 month birthday!

This picture of her was taken just a few days after she turned one as she was getting ready to check out of Children's Hospital following her first grand mal seizure.

What began as a fun evening roasting marshmallows on the back patio changed so quickly. Her breathing became short and halting and we thought she had smoke inhalation. When she became unresponsive we called the paramedics. They thought maybe she was choking and were going to "run her up" to the ER to clear her airway and get her taken care of.

No sooner had they pulled out of our development when she started seizing in Steve's arms. The EMT's gave her an IV and tried to clear "the blockage" with a metal wire and she didn't even flinch. Steve said he thought he was losing her. When I arrived at the hospital an hour later, I immediately knew what room she was in. Almost the entire ER staff was in her room or standing outside of it; the paramedics were still there, looking grim.

I walked in and saw her lying spread eagle on the table, tubes everywhere, doctors on all sides. I thought she was gone. The doctors couldn't get the seizures to stop. For two and a half hours, they administered medication after medication and nothing worked. She wouldn't breathe on her own. Airlift was summoned to transport her to Children's, but she wasn't even stable enough for transfer. Later we would sign a release form and put her on the helicopter without us.

As we made the trip south to Children's by car, God spoke to my heart: "If I take her, will you love Me still?" Gulp. "Yes, Lord, but oh..."

Once at Children's, she stabilized in ICU and the seizures stopped. Tests were run, neurologists shook their heads, and we were sent home a few days later with medication "in case" it happened again. It did. Three weeks later. Ambulances, hospitals, tests all over again. But still we were given no answers.

God led us to an amazing child neurologist with a year long waiting list. Through a friend's connection, and after hearing Sigourney's story, he made an exception and agreed to see her immediately. She was diagnosed with epilepsy and began anti-seizure medication therapy. She still has occasional break through seizures, but nothing like the traumatic grand mals she experienced last spring.

At her check up yesterday, she was declared "perfect." This is especially significant given the fact that seizures lasting more than 45 minutes often result in brain damage, but Sigourney shows no signs of this. The side effects of her medications can also cause delayed physical growth -- Sigourney is in the 100th percentile for height and weight, the exact opposite! She is also developing on target behaviorally and socially. We are so encouraged!

Sigourney's name means "Victorious Conqueror." God has definitely shown this true in her life. We are excited to see His plan for her unfold. In the meantime, we just love to see her smile!

The Puppy Parable

I was going through pictures the other day and found this one of AJ and a dog we once owned. A dog that taught me a valuable lesson...

I am not an animal person. I think they're cute when they're little, but then they grow and they're not so cute and their bad habits are not so endearing. My husband knows this about me.

Last summer, shortly after Sigourney was born, I decided we needed a puppy. Something cute and fun to help the kids learn responsibility, yada, yada, yada. Steve said what he always does, "No way." I had four kids under the age of 5, two in diapers, I didn't need the added responsibility of a dog. Besides, I was looking at little dogs and Steve likes big dogs.

I thought he was being selfish because he wanted a 'man dog', so I kept pressing. I found a breeder and then I found the 'perfect' puppy. A cute miniature poodle at a ridiculous price. Steve reminded me that the answer was 'no,' that he was saying 'no' for my own good, and that I just needed to drop it.

I'm not very good at being submissive (more on this in a future post, I'm sure). I don't take 'no' very well. I became pouty and manipulative. I even got the kids in on the act. So he caved. He loves me. He wants me to be happy, so he said, "if you really want the puppy, get the puppy."

We got the puppy. I named him Rocco. He was cute. He was fun. It was summer, and he spent time outside with the kids. They loved him. Steve even grew to tolerate him in spite of his small stature.

Then the fall came. And the rain. And the puppy was bigger and not so cute, and his behavior had become not so tolerable. I had four kids at home, two in diapers. I didn't have time for a puppy. I'd had it. I told Steve I couldn't handle it. He was mad. Now we had a whole houseful of people attached to this puppy that I had needed so desperately and I wanted to get rid of him? Yep.

We got rid of the puppy. Found him a nice home on Craig's list. An older couple who wanted a lap dog. We even got half of our money back. Steve was gracious enough to deliver Rocco to his new home.

The kids got over losing their dog. Steve still hasn't. Unfortunately, this has happened before. Her name was Stella, she lasted six weeks. I think I've learned my lesson though.

So when I ran across this picture of AJ and Rocco, God reminded me about the lesson. And then I was convicted.

Steve had told me 'no.' He knows me too well. He knew what I didn't need. He knew I had all I could handle without the dog. He wasn't being mean. He was protecting me. But I bristled my back and plowed forward. And he let me do it because he loves me.

How often do I do this with God? I want something and even when He says no, I do it anyway, thinking I know what's best. I usually consult Him, but if I don't get the answer I want, I find a way to make it happen on my own. And because He loves me, He lets me. And when I make a mess of it and finally admit I've made a mistake, He graciously bails me out, even though He knew better all along. He knows what I can handle. He won't give me more than I can bear. And if I'd just listen in the first place, I'd save myself and those around me a whole lot of trouble.

I think I'll hang this picture on the refrigerator. Not to remember Rocco, but to remember Who knows what's best for me.

That Voice

I once heard the Holy Spirit explained this way: He speaks to all who call the Lord 'Lord.' But sometimes we ignore Him so often and become so accustomed to tuning Him out that our hearts are hardened and we don't hear Him anymore. Not because He has stopped speaking, but because we have stopped listening.

This has caused me to pause many times when I've heard that still small voice and redirect an action, an attitude or a behavior. I don't want to grow hard. I don't want to stop hearing.

Yesterday was my uncle's birthday. The kids and I were making Christmas crafts after lunch when I remembered. I'm not very good at remembering birthdays, but would like to be better. So I had a fleeting thought that maybe we should call and sing to him. The next thought was how ridiculous that would be.

I don't think I've ever wished my uncle a happy birthday. I've certainly never called him to sing happy birthday. At least not in my adult life. I'd classify our relationship as comfortable and familiar, but not close. I feared that if we called, he'd probably just think we were being goofy. I didn't want to bother him.

But then I heard that small voice that said, "what if I'm supposed to call him." So I prepped the kids and picked up the phone. We were greeted by the recording. Whew! We sang our song to the machine, I bumbled through a "happy birthday, we were just thinking of you" speech, and hung up. Deed done. If he thought we were silly, at least I'd never know it.

A couple hours later, our phone rang. "Hey, this is Uncle Rick. I just wanted to say thanks for calling. You made my day. Tell those kids of yours thanks, too." A few more pleasantries and the call was over, but I could hear in his voice that he was genuinely touched.

Wow! I was supposed to call. My uncle even called back to confirm it. He didn't have to, he could have just smiled and gone on with his evening and that would have been the end of it. But I think God wanted to show me, as He does so many times, that there is great value in listening to that still small voice of the Spirit. It aligns us with His purpose and His plan. And even when I think it's just me having a thought or idea, more often it's not. It's Him.

I don't know what the eternal ramifications of our happy birthday chorus will be. My uncle isn't saved and maybe it was a seed sown, but even if it wasn't, it was a valuable reminder to stop and listen and then do. Even if it's just to keep my own heart soft.

Still Exercising Thankfulness

I'm still trying to walk in Thankfulness this week. I wasn't blogging last week, so I didn't have a chance to share what I'm so incredibly thankful for this year.

1. I'm thankful for a God who loves me. Even when I'm unlovable. Even when I'm struggling to trust Him. Even when I fail to bring glory to His name. He still loves me.

2. I'm thankful for a husband who is a Mighty Man of God. The testimony of his life is truly a reflection of the power God has to take a broken vessel and make it whole. The choice he made to surrender and relinquish control. To receive the love and life God had waiting for him. It is reflected in the love he lavishes on me, the dedication he shows in raising our children, and the sparkle in his eyes.

3. I'm thankful for five beautiful children. God has truly blessed me. Their individuality, their unity, their joy, their tender hearts. They remind me each and every day that God alone is able to supply what I need to be their mom. Their simple, yet profound view of God exemplifies why Jesus said "let the children come." They really get it. I need a heart like that.

4. I'm thankful that God has done miracles for our family. Real miracles.

In my marriage. Those dreadful days when I didn't know if we'd make it, He gave me hope in a hopeless place and He turned things around. Truly beauty for ashes. It would have been 'easy' to walk away, but oh, what we would have missed.

In my children: The doctors told us Avery would always be sick, she wouldn't be able to do the things normal kids do. God healed her. He turned those blood tests around. She's joyful and energetic; she's healthy!

All those ultrasounds with Aiden. The worry, the fear, the unknown. Would he make it? That boy came out screaming! There was oxygen in his lungs! A gifted team of medical doctors and, this past summer, a clean bill of health. Most of the time I wish he wouldn't scream so much, but I'm so thankful he can!

Sigourney's seizures. The trauma of watching a child struggle with breath. I will never forget the sight of her limp body, her blue lips, her erratic movements. The medication wouldn't work. We had to release her to the airlift team and let her go. I thought God was going to take her. Today, she's mimicking the sounds of her siblings, she's running around trying to keep up with them, she makes us all stop and laugh!!!

I'm so guilty of taking life for granted. Of taking God for granted. I have so much to be thankful for. Oh, it may not be a big showy house, an enviable wardrobe, a fancy car, or public acclaim. But I have what's really important: life, love, and eternal security.

My thankfulness needs to be more than just talk. It needs to radiate from the abundance in my heart. It needs to be so deep and so real that I don't forget about it when life gets hard. I'm not there yet, but I'm working on it. I'm praying for it. And it will come.