A funky pancreas, squeaky joints, and growing faith

A heavy yellow stream plunges through the needle into Peyton's stomach.

"That was easy," he says. And in seconds he is off and running again.

The fluid - methotrexate - is flowing through his veins and, in theory, squashing his overactive immune system, which is attacking his joints.

Officially, the diagnosis is polyarticular juvenile arthritis. Multiple joints affected. Crooked toes, swollen elbows, knobby knees, locked wrists. To look at him, you might only notice his slow gait and stiff run, but there are issues all over.

The drug is hopefully temporary, designed to give a one-two punch to his toughest joints and bring him into remission. From there, we can look at holistic cures. We recently met someone who was managing her arthritis with a Paleo diet.

And in hearing that fact, I know that the arthritis may be easier to live with than the diabetes. Less needles, less medicine, fewer supplies. Peyton will need insulin for life; arthritis might lie low for awhile. And while that's good, right now things are tricky. Peyton has blood tests at his self-named "Room of Doom" every 8-10 weeks. The boy hates the sight of his own blood and starts a mini panic attack if the vial count is over three. Methotrexate is a chemo drug when given in much higher doses, and this doesn't sit well with us. But neither do wrists that don't bend, a neck with little-to-no flexibility, and toes that will probably never go back to normal. This is only the beginning. Left with slower cures, things could progress quickly.

And suddenly we are making big decisions for a kid who really only cares about baseball, gaming, and hanging with friends.

The wondering why comes easier than the answers. Why him? Why is his immune system so wonky? Why didn't we notice this sooner? I'd go mad if I lived in that questioning. These are both diseases that have no specifically identified cause. If the best researchers in the world don't have the answer, I won't either.

And I am strangely okay with that.

I have given up a lot of control in these matters. Because we live in the land of plenty, we have more options - and more options makes us feel more in control. We call the shots, we make the choices, we get big heads over things happening our way, and it's funny: this control is tenuous but comforting, with a side of stress.

Not so in places where choices are so few. Some of these people - impoverished, hungry, unclean, living in meager conditions, at the mercy of dictators and war lords - have a faith that pulverizes mine. They have no choice but to lean into God, drop their heavy loads, and allow Him to provide all that they cannot. They have never called the shots, and that is oddly peaceful in a way, despite their circumstances.

Lean in. 

Diabetes is one of those diseases where the word "control" is tossed around a lot: how is your blood sugar control? are you able to control your A1C number? In many ways, you can be a true manager of this disease.

Then again there are moments of utter nonsense and all you can do is react. I'm convinced nothing will build your faith faster than complete loss of control.

Lean in. Let go. Believe like crazy.

Between both diseases, we are faced with a silly amount of decisions. We are blessed to live where
the opportunities are seemingly endless. I will tell you I am absolutely not taking that for granted.

Because of Scott's insurance, we pay very little for Peyton's expensive medicines.
Because of my job flexibility, I can get him to a 3-hour ophthalmologist appointment to gauge eye inflammation one day, and run him in for quick blood work the next.
Because I live where I do, I have some insanely great pediatric specialty doctors that blow me away.

I know if we were born in a different time, lived in a different place, Peyton's story would read much harsher.

I am grateful for what control we have, and choosing to trust for the rest. God is so close all the time. All the time. Even when we mistakenly think we we don't need Him at the moment, when we think we got this.

We have never "got this." We always need Him.

My doctor asked me the other day what I was doing to cope. I couldn't even think of an answer quickly because trusting God in this matter has become my normal response - just like breathing most days. Normal as in surprised that anyone would ask. How would one make it without? 

But I know. I know because I have tried to do these things on my own. Leaning in is better by far, and a lesson I need to apply to other areas of my life.

Without the lean, there is only loss - loss of hope, loss of contentment. The lean is the only thing that brings peace. I've sought temporary peace in many places - I still do - but nothing beats what radical faith can do. And radical is where it's at. Not halfway faith, but diving-under-it, all-in, what the heck am I doing faith. Faith that comes when you know your control is sketchy at best.

This is the sweet spot.

Let's start spreading some insanity

Yesterday at around 4:15 pm, the last of the wispy clouds scudded across the sky, revealing a blue landscape and a bright sun. Kids poured out of their houses. I abandoned dinner plans for "let's just see how long we stay out here."

And, of course, we put up the trampoline.

I am declaring winter as officially over.

Last night, I basked in that exhausted feeling that only comes from too much fresh air. This morning, I read outside, with the sun hot on my face and a warm cup of coffee in my hand. I felt like I could breathe again. The stale air of my inside world was replaced by the pure feel of the outside.

In the same way, I am breathing air again into my faith. I was stretched and tested this winter but am coming out of it a little more reckless in my belief. I'm re-reading the book Anything by Jennie Allen in a Bible study with friends, and I AM TELLING YOU (in all caps AND bold italics so you know I mean business) it is incredibly freeing.

I can't do Jennie's story justice but I'll sum it up by saying she and her husband completely surrendered to God "anything" and their lives changed in bold ways. Not painless ways, not always comfortable ways. But in all they experienced and lived, there was a sense of huge purpose and trust and impact.

Even better, there was insanity.

"God is still not very practical, and to follow him takes trust. Following him completely requires belief that he is good even if everything here and now is not, that he sees us and has an intentional plan for our few years here. We trust in a spiritual person who leads us to do spiritual things that may not totally make sense." (Jennie Allen)

And in the beginning of this journey, she felt she was "spreading insanity."

Sounds good to me. Because my own control or belief that my plans are better has certainly not been working. Living with one foot straddling the line of Trust Him and the other foot in I Want Control has been unfulfilling.

"I know we are afraid of anything too radical or costly. I used to think I would find life in the medium ... But it was really numb and boring and empty, to be honest. Now that I have tasted being all in, I don't want medium. We weren't made for medium." (Jennie Allen)

Words could not be truer. There's a part of my soul that dies in the medium - I feel it. Like I am not living fully. I am safe, comfortable, and moderately happy in the medium, but something about it feels very incomplete.

I am not a risk-taker physically - I don't need to scale Mt Everest or go cliff jumping in Hawaii. I practically panic crossing tall bridges in a car these days. But I see the rush those risk-taking fools feel when they attempt these feats. It's like they come alive only when they jump. And yes, it might seem insane but only in that insanity do we really live.

And so we jump.

My favorite chapter of Anything is a part where Jennie likens our safe, comfortable faith experience to being on a cruise ship that is going down, but the day is so beautiful and blue and we are so comfortable and enjoying ourselves that it's hard to imagine anything is wrong or that we are in any danger.

So we don't heed the captain's warnings. We sit, drinks in hand, relaxing in the sun. "I kept sipping my drink with an umbrella in it, lest they all think I'd gone crazy, running for the rescue boats on a perfectly lovely day."

Can we give up our earthly comfort - and embrace appearing insane - to, as Jennie says, "obey the captain's voice?" Do we really believe that what he has in store is better for us than anything we could possibly imagine?

And if we do, why aren't we running around yelling - Wake up! Wake up! Get off the boat!

God is saying, There's more. There's work I have for you. And only a short time to do it in. 

I want to be insane in the eyes of the world if it means that I will be chasing only God. I don't think anything else could feel as alive, real, big, powerful, meaningful, and wonderful as that.

From cornstalks to cinder blocks: A week in Guatemala

I like my creature comforts.

When I watch TV, it's on a comfy, reclining sofa. I cuddle under a blanket that smells of Tide, and sip a drink from the cupholder on the couch. I surf through any number of channels and often settle on the ones that show me how to make my comfortable home even better. (They suck me in every time!)

The hum of a well-stocked fridge fills the kitchen next to our living room. My kids are in their own rooms, on their own beds, surrounded by too many of their own things. There are two cars in my driveway and three computers in the house.

Blessings galore. I am incredibly grateful.

I was just in Guatemala for a week. I was in Antigua, with a dear friend, to build a house in a nearby village for a family in need via an organization called From Houses to Homes. Antigua is a bubble - a beautiful, internationally protected historical site that is the foodie capital of Guatemala.

It sits in the valley of the "water volcano" and is known for its brightly colored homes, cobblestone streets, and seemingly infinite number of churches and ruins. Tourism is big here, and many visitors choose to hike the volcanos and take canopy tours, zip-lining through the lush forests.

But there's the other part of Guatemala - just 20 minutes away on all sides. The view is much different here.

We built a 13x9-foot cinder block home for a family in El Tejar. When many families in that village watch TV, it's from a well-worn bed that they share with multiple siblings, in a dark, corrugated metal room, with a leaky ceiling and a cornstalk fence. The TV is a relic, sitting among the family's few possessions. The room is tidy, but lacks any of the comforts I mentioned earlier. Getting up to the room itself requires careful maneuvering up narrow steps, like climbing into a treehouse. Sheets cover the window, but offer little privacy.

A beautiful, loving, and generous family with six children (one married with a child of his own, who lives next door) call this home. 

The Tagual Andres family in front of the oldest son's home next to the building site.
This house was also a project from a church that was putting up the corrugated metal homes.
It is spacious and provides some protection, but not enough warmth in the colder
months. It also doesn't have a locking door, or a window that opens.

That week, we got to work building our family their very first cinder block home, with a concrete floor, a window that opens, a metal roof with a skylight, and a locking door, protection from a world of people who have resorted to crime in their poverty.

The work was hard, but so rewarding. Day one was a lot of digging, sweating, and mixing concrete by hand. (Rock, sand, and mix is flipping HEAVY!) We poured a foundation, then spent the next few days stacking cement blocks and mixing mortar to hold everything together. You won't believe what this stuff does to your hands. My gloves look like they went through a war zone - the best kind of war zone, I should add.

Our team! Best ever. Michele and I were joined by Ruth and Silk from Canada. Ruth is from
Guatemala originally and has built many houses here. She has the biggest heart for God, and for His people. Her
voice was invaluable there. Silk is a former hip-hop artist who loves serving God by serving others. And she
has one of the best smiles I've ever seen - true joy! Our new friends also included 3 of the best Guatemalan
workers a couple of gals from the North could ask for. We miss working with them.

During downtime, we visited with families in the village who were next in line for a house (There are 67 families on the waiting list in El Tejar.) Two of them have more than 10 kids. Many of them are sleeping on the dirt floor. We delivered your generous donations of clothes and toys. Their faces were on fire with joy. You would have loved the clamoring over a small Mickey Mouse dress (is anything more American than that?!) Seriously, if your kids do not like hand-me-downs from their siblings, send them to Guatemala. We saw so many of the donated clothes on the kids the very next day - so proud to be showing us their new outfits.

On the last day, we painted and got ready to celebrate (we were also invited to the birthday celebration of a baby who lives in one of the first houses built in that village.) There were firecrackers, a fabulous meal that the family prepared and served in their new home, and the biggest piñata we had ever seen! (Not to mention half the village down there to join in the fun). Our team left pizza and cake with the family, as they rarely get this sort of treat there.

DONE! House number 985 - almost 1,000 houses built by this beautiful organization!

Enjoying a wonderful meal of pepian - rice, potatoes, chicken, and other veggies
in a spicy stew - served with homemade tortillas. So very good.

This is only half of the piñata, people. When it broke up, there was such a mad
dash for the candy that it was impossible to take good photos!

During the week, we also visited a school in Santa Maria de Jesus, the community where From Houses to Homes first started building. The school is for families in the organization's program, as well as others who qualify. It is a gorgeous building that would rival many American schools. School is a huge deal in Guatemala and is relatively unaffordable for many in these rural villages. (Unfortunately, the village where we served is too far from the school, so our family isn't able to take advantage of this perk.)

All families who receive a home also receive free medical care from a clinic that From Houses to Homes built as well. This is another beautiful facility that is changing the game from these families. To have access to all of this is an incredible Godsend.

I encourage you to read the From Houses to Homes story. It is a touching picture of what one
person can do when they strive to change a life for a family - now for about 1,000 families (not to mention
how incredible the experience is for those who come down there to serve.)

I want to tell you much more about what happened this week - about what God did in bringing our team together, about learning Spanish, about playing with the kids, about the beauty of the country.

Life is so very different around the world from North America. We tend to think we are the majority, but we aren't. Most of the people in the world live a life we can't quite imagine. We are the privileged, living in relative freedom and prosperity.

We are people of means. There is much poverty in the US, that is true. And I won't downplay how hard it is to be poor here in the US. But in Guatemala, and in many other developing countries, those without means truly have very little, and even less opportunity to change that. I wonder if it's really feasible to lift them out of that condition without help from us. 

So we heard over and over, "Thank you for coming to Guatemala. Thank you for helping my people." 

Are there any better words? This is a beautiful community of people who care deeply for each other and their culture, but are mired in painful poverty. They work, but it's not enough. (In our family, the dad and two siblings work full-time.) They sweep, clean, and tidy up, but still their floors are compacted dirt. There are not enough beds, not enough changes of clothes. Still, they look their best and give thanks to God in conditions that we will likely never know.

Throughout the week, I couldn't stop thinking that these lovely people watch TV, and they know. They know how we live. They see what we have. They see beyond the cornstalks, dirt floors, broken chairs, bare light bulbs, and they see what must seem impossible to imagine. On such small salaries, even with the older kids working, what they see is beyond their reach. 

So for them, knowing that we care, that even in all our riches and opportunity, there is time to love them and lift them up ... this means everything.

It is a 13x9 house, but it is so very much more, isn't it?

Let's go build some more together sometime soon, friends. 

Go get 'em, kids

Oh kids,

You are off to another adventure. Lucky you. Your world is getting bigger by the minute.

After this summer, you know more people, more places, more experiences. You've met heartbreak and heart-joy. You are getting stretched in ways that will mold your adult years; things that don't make sense now will. They always do. Sometimes we wait decades to find out, sometimes we discover it right away.

You will walk in the sun many days, joy exploding from your face. Let it explode. People around you need it. They need your smile, your kind words. Don't hold out on them. Be the nicest person in the room, not for you but for them.

Because one day the "them" will be you. You will be sad and lonely. Not might - will. It happens to every one of us. And you will need that smile, that laugh, that one word that changes your heart from breaking to hoping.

Giving up is the easiest thing you will do. Holding out hope is the hardest. But every hard thing you overcome is a diamond in your crown. Wear it with pride.

Wear ALL of you with pride. You won't be the best at many things, but sometimes you will. Be who you were created to be, not what group mentality asks you to be. Choose carefully who you call friend. Go ahead and experiment with that. This is the time to find out. You'll trip your way through potholes, but I promise that by the time you are an adult, you will choose well.

Be 100 percent you. Not 60 percent for this person, and 25 percent for that one - put all 100 in every time. You will be included because of who you are one day, and excluded for the same reason the next. That's OK, your peers are all figuring this out, too. Forgive and forget.

You will want to be someone different many times this year - faster, stronger, smarter, prettier, cooler, bigger, smaller, greater, lesser, wiser. Decide only to be a better you.

And good news: school is not all there is in the world. Really. There are hundreds, thousands of other adventures awaiting you. If this particular adventure isn't your favorite this year, hold tight. June is right around the corner. Just promise you will take something away from the journey.

Your world has walls all over it. Sometimes they protect you, but other times they keep you penned in. Jumping over those walls will seem a monumental task. But oh, on the other side. Freedom waits. God waits. He doesn't want you inside that wall, either, because He can't use you there.

They say no way, oh, I say I'll rule the world
Ain't afraid of the walls, I'm a break 'em down
They stay the same, oh, I'm feelin' high as a bird
Ain't afraid of the ground, I'm a stay up
I say yeah yeah yeah, they say no no no
They say slow slow slow, I say go go go
They say no way, oh, I say I'll rule the world
I say I rule the world
Walk Off the Earth, "Rule The World"

I write this as much for you as for me. Because as an adult, you will forget. Life seems more about living than learning for us. More about survival than awe.

Do something new and amazing this year to remind us old people that learning is for all of us, every day.

Life in pictures: What we're learning

I waver between playing photographer and forgetting to take photos altogether. Lately, I've been forgetting. I hope it's because I'm attempting to live more in the moment than trying to capture them. 

Still, I love how pictures can capture precisely how we are feeling at any one time. Funny, too, that photos can be manipulated to show a feeling that isn't really there. We've all captured beautiful shots that make our kids look like angels when moments before (and after) they were engaged in a mighty tantrum. 

So here are a slew of really bad photos that hopefully show life as it really is for us right now:

Life means playing hard. We've been spending weekends watching Peyton nurture his basketball skills, and as he gets older, the game gets more aggressive. In fact, we're often on him to step up his own level of play. Parallel to life? Sometimes you have to play hard. Your legs hurt, you are out of breath, you want to stop for water, someone is always trying to take the ball from you. That's OK. Keep playing, defending, and hustling. And when it gets too rough, pass the ball to a friend.

Carve out time. Six years - that's all we have left to nurture and care for this girl before she is managing herself in the World. I guess that sounds like a long time - some days it might. But it's really not since we've already been raising her for double that time. Scott just said yesterday, "Can you believe she's already been through 2/3 of her 18 years with us?" Not that we expect she will be out of our life at 18 ... it's just that we expect she'll be officially carving out her own life at that point, leaning on us for support and comfort - not depending on us. Our influence will be different. And our influence now is more critical than ever.

So we've been giving her life experiences to take with her, and will continue to focus more and more on that in the coming six years.

Rest assured those experiences also include learning to do her own laundry, dishes, and scoop kitty litter.

Celebrate big. Last Friday, we had the honor of celebrating two dear friends who turned 40. The first event included a feast for the ages, for which I brought copious amounts of bacon-covered delecacies. I know that is incredibly surprising. I smelled like bacon the rest of the night. Life lesson? It's OK to smell like bacon all night long, because bacon means love. Bacon means I am celebrating big.

So does this:

We overcome hard things. A year ago this week, Peyton was super sick. Hollow-eyed, desperately thirsty all the time, eating like a machine, his skinny little body trying hard to use the sugar in his food to give him fuel. But his pancreas wasn't churning out regular amounts of insulin to unlock that sugar from the food. And today, it's likely not working at all. He is a Type 1 diabetic who doesn't like to be a T1D, but is powering through like a champ. We wanted to celebrate this year milestone with all of you, but he was more comfortable with just the four of us paying any sort of attention to his condition.

So we ate ribs and drank lemonade.

We watched a friend play his basketball game, then ventured to Knuckleheads in the Dells to blow off some steam. Turns out, that was more fun for Sam than for Peyton. Something in him shut down. Maybe it was low blood sugar. Maybe it was the focus of the day. Maybe it was just being a 10-year-old boy. We didn't push it, just let him keep a low profile while Sam killed it at all the arcade games. Life parallel? Disappointments abound sometimes. It's OK to take the space to process them.

Other good things:

A few weeks ago, I heard this message at church that helped me remember that God wants us to delight in Him first. Since then, I have been pouring my energy into doing just that. One things that helps during the workday is Gungor Radio and Bethel Music Radio constantly streaming on my Pandora. Heavenly.

(For the record, Hipster Cocktail Party Radio is also keeping a smile on my face this winter.)

Do yourself a favor, and add this blog to your weekend routine. A quiet place and some of the most inspiring stories happening in the world. God still moves mountains.

Shauna Niequist has a new book coming out in March: Savor. It's a devotional ... with recipes ... I really can't imagine anything better.

Sam and I splurged on a couple of cookies at Manna Bakery in Madison (off Sherman Ave). Best, buttery sugar cookies ever. So I leave you with this:

Proof that love is all you need.

Being uncomfortable - where it's at

So I've been thinking.

I've read a great many blog posts in the past two weeks that have the "new year - new you" flair. Many are great posts where the authors have vowed to be more accepting of themselves, to believe that enough is truly enough. They are savoring small moments and helping time stand still more by slowing down. They have resolved to stop punishing themselves, comparing themselves, being anything other than themselves.

I love all of this.

And I'd be tempted to make many of the same resolutions. Except I can't. If I am honest with myself, I have tended toward these types of resolutions for several years now with the ultimate goal of seeking greater comfort for myself. They are good resolutions, but need to be grounded in the right reasons.

Usually I want life to be easier because it feels hard. It feels that way because I am running around in craziness, all wrapped up in things I shouldn't be. So of course it seems hard. And of course, I want to step back, slow down, and make better choices.

But my "step back and slow down" is usually code for "hide in your bubble until all the ugliness goes away."

It often doesn't go away. Because really, I haven't changed anything. Really, I am all about the challenges ending so I can "enjoy" life. Once a storm passes, though, I am still rooted in the same place.

Everything is the same - just more comfortable than it was before.

Well, here we go. Real change means being uncomfortable for a time. So it's time to get uncomfortable.

Like completing a 10-day cleanse that forced me to get rid of my most favorite foods in the world. Uncomfortable.

Like seeing a therapist. Uncomfortable.

Like being on Day 10 of kicking my wine-a-night habit for the longest time ever since 2011. Uncomfortable.

Like planning a couple of mission trips for 2015 that include going somewhere new and different and facing a lot of unknowns. Uncomfortable.

Thirteen days into the new year and I already venturing out of my bubble. But I am doing it because I believe God works in insane ways when you are uncomfortable. He breaks down barriers and hauls away the garbage and makes room for something beautiful to happen in a place that was cluttered with layers of comfort. And I am ready for that kind of insane.

Care to step out with me?

Sunsets and ice cream

Sunday was the culmination of two solids weeks of indulgence, celebrations, family, friends, and way too much time in the house.

By 3 pm that day, the kids were squirrel-ier than ever and dreading going back to school the next day. After separating them from picking at each other for the umpteenth time, I declared enough and said "We're going for a drive."

"Where are we going?"

"I don't know, let's see where the road takes us."

<Insert skepticism and a smidge of whining.>

"It will probably take us toward ice cream."

"OK."

And we were off.

I headed where I usually do when I want to escape - toward downtown. Where I feel like I've ditched the 'burbs and malls and chain restaurants and the same-old for moments of inspiration.

I happened to drive right into the sunset on Lake Monona.

Sam starting shooting pictures like she was paparazzi and Peyton ask a hundred questions about the ice on the lake. It was too cold for any of us to venture out of the warm car, but I wanted to. I really wanted to run toward that sun. To stop it in its tracks long enough to bask in it. I wanted it to stay and warm the car window, the houses across the street, the kids sledding at the park next door (new find!)

But it kept it's long, steady slide behind the lake and disappeared - just like that.

And that's how moments are. They slip through our fingers quickly, even the tough ones. I know that's hard to imagine - some stages of life feel like forever. I'm in the middle of a hard season that seems to be playing out in a running loop. But I've been there before. I know I will look back in a few short years, and appreciate all that is coming out of these days. They will feel like no time at all.

Our adventure did include ice cream and a slow drive home. And no arguing. On the way, Sam said, "It went so fast." I think she was thinking about winter break, but probably also about the day, the drive, and the sunset.

It did. It does. 

Watch all the sunsets you can this year, staying long and appreciating each second.

Celebrating a year in moments

The merriest of all holidays is here, and I'm feeling pretty darn reflective.

We've started the Christmas cards, Scott is working on his annual letter, and I've been thinking about how big this year was. It was both intimidating and exhilarating. God threw in a few surprises, but I've learned not to shy away from anything in His grasp.

So let the celebrations begin!

Here's a little ditty from me to you. Make it the best Christmas yet!

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All peanut butter'ed out

I made my umpteenth peanut butter and jelly sandwich this morning.

I have no idea how much umpteenth actually is, but in this case it means thousands upon thousands. Given how long my kids have been on this earth and of the PB&J-eating age, it's got to be at least that.

And I am burnt out, friends. For the love, can we just pack something else in a school lunch? Or can we abandon the sandwich altogether? Snacks are food, too! It's only November, and already the school lunch routine is taking me down.

this choosy mom would no longer like to choose PB, please.

I have a love-hate relationship with routines. There are some I can't live without, and others - mostly morning ones - that I'd rather change every day. But the thing is, I live by these routines because I find they're the most efficient way to get something done.

Have you been there?

Sometimes we are so engrossed in routines that we see no other way around them. The thought of changing becomes too daunting, even if we feel a tug to switch something up. It takes loads of intentionality to change.

Especially if you live in a home where no one else sees the need to change (ahem.)

But if you've done it - if you've made your move, either because you wanted to or you had to, you know. You absolutely know the exhilaration of building new routines around new circumstances and stretching yourself in ways that you haven't in a long time.

That's what happens when you toss the PB&J for the turkey-and-cheese rollup. It's dang exhilarating.

So why am I writing about this?

I fear I am losing my ability to think creatively. I know this isn't entirely true, but the sharpness is gone and the spark that ignites when I put a new idea into action is fading. It's getting harder to gear-up for the same-old/same-old. It's even harder to develop something new.

I've put a Band-Aid on the situation a number of times: my 40-by-40 list, and for-going certain traditions to see what new ones might crop up. All fun, all good stories to tell. But what happens when the list is fulfilled (it's still not, by the way) and old routines crop back up? All my efforts have spread me too thin and I feel more self-consumed than I want to be.

I don't want to be one of those people looking for the next big thing. I know greener grass isn't always on the other side. And mostly, I know that I should be (and am) entirely grateful for what I do have.

But wouldn't it be great to find that spark?

So I guess I'm already making my resolution for 2015: pare down and build back up, focusing on what will make an eternal impact. I'm already off to a good start (several weeks off of Facebook and I am still alive!)

Stay tuned ...

STATE CHAMPIONS!

So I guess I left you hanging with that last post. Unless we know each other well - in which case this is all you have heard about! The Waterloo Pirates are the State Division 3 Champions!

Listen, I don't think I could really summarize last weekend and do it justice. About 50 amazing things happened, and I haven't wrapped my head around all of them. Let's just say that this has been years in the making at the Schumann house - and definitely for these gals - and it feels incredible to see all the hard work come to fruition in this way. And the Waterloo fans - man, oh man, they were awesome.

We made sure to give thanks where thanks is due.

This is the first big announcement I have made in long awhile without Facebook. When Peyton was diagnosed with T1D, Facebook was a lifeline of support to hear from so many people. Not having it in this case seems so strange. But we've been fielding all kinds of texts, calls, and emails with this news, and that's been great too. It's weird to shift your thinking and remember that the world no longer knows your news because you aren't broadcasting it. It definitely feels Stone Age to me, but yet more personal.

But back to volleyball.

The weekend games were intense, with the girls coming from behind in most sets. NAIL BITERS. HEART ATTACK INDUCERS. At one point, the girls were down 10 points in what seemed like a done deal for that set. But they came back. Every time. It felt like a miracle.

Since then, there have been TV and radio interviews. A parade into town that included numerous fire trucks, ambulances, and other such noisy vehicles. Pep rallies. Impromptu pep band concerts. Impromptu parent cheers. Celebration parties with friends. And a little exhaustion.

But it's all been good, good, good.

Thanks to all who helped us celebrate, especially coming to the games this season and supporting something that is such a big part of our lives each fall.

We are grateful.

leaving it all on the court. perfect.

STATE BOUND!

They did it! Scott's team is going to State!! This is as big as it gets in high school volleyball, and I feel like Scott and the girls have worked a bazillion hours for this opportunity.

I still can't believe it is real.

The first game was tough to sit through - a close set, and their play was not reflective of their actual ability. But they fought back and won that one 25-20, and then 25-9, 25-8. So flippin' great.

We'll be spending next weekend in Green Bay - hopefully all weekend long. They play on Friday at 1 pm; if they win, they will play for the title on Saturday at 11:30 am.

These games will also be streaming live somewhere ... will try to send a link when I find out where. Otherwise, check out www.wiaawi.org for more details.

Or you could venture up to Green Bay and take in all the craziness of volleyball intensity!

GO LOO!

PS - thanks for the support, game-watching, texts, and emails on behalf of Scott. It means a ton to him!

your sectional final champions!

My kid is high! and other diabetes adventures

I owe you an update on this guy.

10 years old. practically a man.

We've been managing Peyton's Type 1 diabetes since his diagnosis in January (his story).

And he isn't really "high" - not in blood sugars these days, nor on drugs (whew!).

Actually, he's been low or normal most days because we're still in what doctors call the honeymoon phase, where diabetes is new and more manageable and ... I guess, exciting?

Come on, aren't all honeymoons?

So here's the thing: Peyton has a really sucky disease. If I am real, then I should say the diagnosis wasn't a 2014 highlight. But - still being real - some good has come out of this, and I am concentrating on that.

I always get questions about his management. And by "his," I really mean Peyton's because he is on top of this thing. Blessing #1. He was old enough when diagnosed to handle this, and he's just controlling enough to want to do this mostly solo.

By "do this" I mean that he is:

• Poking his finger with a lancet device 5-6 times a day to check his blood sugar before he eats.
• Determining how many carbs are in the foods he eats
• Knowing the best ratio of insulin to give himself based on food, exercise, and whatever else might be coming up in the next hour
• Filling his own syringe
• Stabbing himself 3-5 times a day with the insulin-filled syringe to cover the sugars (carbs) in the food. (He always does his own shots; can't remember the last time I did one for him.)
• Prepping for bed with a snack that will keep his sugar levels up overnight so he doesn't have a nighttime low.

It's a lot. Scott and I monitor each of these steps. The routine of it is both comforting and frustrating all at once. Sometimes I'd love to say "just go eat that slice of pizza and don't worry about it." Sometimes I don't want to carry his meter and a man-purse full of supplies when we go out. But that will never be his reality.

(OK, we are working on replacing the man-purse ...)

Point is, he is doing good. Really good. Aside from some weird, unexplainable highs and lows, he is quite the healthy diabetic. And he still eats whatever he wants, although he has a hankering for most protein products. But never rule out chocolate peanut butter ice cream. As he says, it's always worth the shot.

The diabetes support group that is the rest of his family is also doing well. I am the Supply-Orderer and Flex Spending Reimbursement Seeker. Thank God for good insurance. Scott is the Great Explainer of All Things Medical when Peyton has questions. Thank God for him, too.

And we are training Sam in both our ways because she's back-up, as well as the Annoying Big Sister.

But I would be lying if I didn't say I still lose sleep over this disease. We don't check Peyton's blood sugar in the middle of the night --- currently. Due to the length of time between blood sugar checks, the body's unique chemistry at night, daytime activity factors, and nighttime insulin, Peyton's levels could drop low at night. Low is not good. Many mamas check, for many reasons. Because Peyton has been so consistent in recent months, we haven't checked since before summer. 

I don't know what will happen when the honeymoon is over.

Still, every single morning that I wake up, I visit his room first to see if he's still breathing. And 3-5 nights a week I wake up in the middle of the night to do the same thing. I don't check his levels because it is so incredibly disruptive to his sleep, and because he wakes up with an extremely consistent set of numbers.

But I won't pretend this is forever. We let him live his life - go to sleepovers, actively play sports, make some poor food choices (hello, he's 10!) and not disrupt his sleep when he doesn't want to be disrupted. 

It is hard to let go of the fear. 

We need a cure. Insulin is a HUGE blessing (this was a fatal disease before the 1920s) but it isn't a cure. A cure would mean that no one would need insulin again. For me, this is a cause worth rallying around.

But if we never get a cure, he still needs to live fearlessly. So do we. Heck, what I really want is a cure for fear. Isn't that what people with all manners of incurable diseases and permanent disabilities need? 

The courage to truly live big even when life has thrown you some disadvantages. 

Really working on this.

*********************************
PS-

Thank you for your many, many kind words, texts, calls, and visits after the last post. Heart is hugely full. It's never easy to be real about the raw stuff, but there is so much freedom when you do.

And here is what else happened:

On the 26th, I wrote my first post in months. I pressed "publish," then grabbed a Sharpie and wrote 3 words on a Post-It that I wanted in my face for-freaking-EVER.

Hope. Because I had forgotten even how to do this. I placed self-preservation above hope.

Trust. Because I had become too jaded.

Adventure. Because God is always saying to me, "Go, do, and tell. Small things, big things, and a bazillion new things."

Then, on the 27th, I read this in Jesus Calling:

"Many people are so preoccupied with future plans and decisions that they fail to see choices they need to make today. Without any conscious awareness, they make their habitual responses. People who live this way find a dullness creeping into their lives. They sleepwalk through their days, following well-worn paths of routine. 

I, the Creator of the universe, am the most creative Being imaginable. I will not leave you circling in deeply rutted paths. Instead, I will lead you along fresh trails of adventure, revealing to you things you did not know."

YES. Tell me this is true. My longing to bust out of my current boxes is big and real and OK. I believe it is OK to feel restless - just as it is also OK to be content where you are.

Sometimes you need a balance between the two - GRATITUDE for what you have and MOVEMENT to leave behind what is no longer productive.

There I am.

The post I kept avoiding

Oh man.

Isn't it totally annoying when someone blogs for awhile consistently and then disappears without another word?

So sorry.

I started 20-30 posts in my head between June and now, but I just couldn't sit down to write. The words wouldn't come - even today I am struggling.

I am in a valley right now. 

The reasons why aren't important. What is important is that I am letting the reasons consume me and my faith feels like it's fading and most days I have to remind myself to be more hopeful.

There, I said it.
Ew, that sounds awful.

Here's the thing: I know that this is simply a bad stretch. We ALL have bad stretches. You have all walked down a hard road at some point in your life. In many ways, my rock-strewn path is nothing compared to what some of you have journeyed through.

But there I go, comparing myself to you again. Let's call that Problem #1.

Problem #2 is more tied to a slew of disappointments. Mostly expectations that should never have been, and are hard to overcome.

Problem #3 is just some bad luck. Of course we have another medical bill. Of course the hot water heater is broken. Of course we took the side mirror off of our car.

And I find myself saying over and over that 2014 just hasn't been my year.

BUT. 

I am only choosing to see the bad, the hard. Truth is, lots of very amazing things have happened this year; it is absolute insanity for me to not be grateful for these.

And when I am really honest with myself - if I sit and recite those harder moments in my head - it's an embarrassingly shallow list of small problems that feel way bigger than they are. I don't say that to belittle ANYTHING tough, as if one problem is always harder than another. I say this to point out that my perspective is still in tact enough to see the difference.

But just barely.

So it's time to focus on getting healthy.

I'll be deactivating my Facebook site for awhile. I've tossed my Instagram. While I will miss keeping up with all of your lives, I won't miss wondering what's happening to mine when I play the comparison game. For me, that's a very slippery slope and incredibly distracting. Someday I pray it won't be.

But I have renewed my commitment to blogging because writing is soul-healing, and I forgot that. So don't leave this space! Bookmark the site or sign up to receive email notifications when I post.

Only if you want to, of course.

I vow to share all the ways God is taking the battered me and raising the better me.

And so we begin again.

"EVERYBODY is beginning again, every single day. Folks who don’t know that are missing out on the terror and beauty and power of a fresh start." -- Momastery

Epic strikes again

So, it is 9:40 pm.

Scott fell asleep on the couch a dozen times between 7:30 and 8 pm, before he threw in the towel and went to bed. It's definitely the last week of school.

Sam and Peyton are in the boy's room reading the Bible. Yep, the Bible.

OK, so it's the animated version that reads like a cartoon with thought bubbles and the whole bit but it captivates them both for some reason, but I get to say that they are reading the Bible on their own. Can't go wrong there.

And I should be in bed, too, but tonight I need to write. I left that part of me behind in the quest for "epic" weeks lately. But a friend came over Saturday and we talked about many great things, but among them was the reminder to take time to do the things that heal you. I am in need of a little healing these days, so here we are.

We've had many big moments since I last wrote.

On Memorial Day weekend, we took for first camping trip of 2014. Our summer season opener. It looked something like this:

Which is pretty amazing since the other years it has rained or been 40 degrees, and has generally been a hilarious adventure in and of itself. This time, it was sunny, warm, and just darned relaxing. God knows we needed it. We enjoyed wonderful food, had some solid fishing, and even hosted a campground concert (much to the enjoyment of all our camping neighbors). We returned to celebrate a friend's birthday, capping off the weekend perfectly.

All good, right?

But then you come back to reality. I have been having a battle with time again. We've had many "epic" weeks lately, with no end in sight, really, as we bound into summer. And it irks me that I haven't come up with a solution to jumping off the crazy train, despite having cut back in some areas. Hibernating might work, but I don't like that idea at all. Where do my 24 hours go, and how is there always so much to do, and why are we always rushing, rushing, rushing, and HOW IS THIS OK?

It's not.

I am working on that.

Part of the craziness is because some other big things have happened:

A co-worker and I had a big ole San Francisco Adventure that included a speaking engagement that was above and beyond anything I have ever done in my career. Nerve-wracking and challenging to say the least. It may not have even been any good. But we did it. Thanks to some well-timed prayers and lots of laughs to keep it loose, we got 'er done.

And had a little fun, too.

Then on Sunday, Sam decided to get baptized. VERY COOL experience. Heartland Church does this celebration really well. I am so proud of Sam for stepping out of her comfort zone and embracing what it means to speak her faith out loud. She's a good egg, that one. I've had a roller coaster of emotions at times with her, but these moments make me remember how unique and special she really is. Good things are happening here.

And lately I have needed that reminder. I find that I feel less grateful for these many moments when I am caught up in the petty day-to-day-ness of my life. My mind has been on the details lately and I am missing the big picture. How far we've come. What we have. Who we are becoming. How little some things matter in the big scheme of a life.

Sometimes I read teeny-bop novels. Total confession here. And I loved The Fault in Our Stars, which is now a movie, and appropriately so as it has somewhere around 100 sweet lines, including this one:

"You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I am grateful."

I want to be that grateful. Always.

And maybe that's why I chase time down to it's last precious seconds. When I was a kid, I would often sit outside in the summer as the sun left the sky for the moon, watching that last ray sink away. I waited and waited, wanting to keep every moment of the day. Sometimes I do that even now, stopping to watch a sunset before it melts behind the house across my backyard.

I want to remember to use every ounce of time in my numbered days, whatever that number may be.

I want to be grateful. Even when life gets a little "epic."

May your summer run deep and long, and be truly magical. Chase forever, friends.

The courage to do and do well

A lot has happened since my last post. Including this:

surprise! (followed by "let's party!")

I'll get to that another day. Let me just say it was the Best Birthday Ever. Capitalized, bold, and italics for emphasis. Turning 40 was a week-long event filled with great fun, great family, great friends.

But first.

My head is swimming. I just returned from a learning + development conference in Washington DC, and am insanely inspired to make some great things happen both at work and at home. I can't get the ideas down on paper fast enough, am struggling to narrow them down to workable opportunities, and am - in the meantime - trying to get back to a routine that includes not eating 3,000 amazing, decadent calories a day, finding out which bills are due, and keeping up with the end-of-the-school-year rush that is concerts, meetings, open houses, teacher gifts, and any number of hamster wheel-like activities that fill my day.

But I digress.

One thing I did learn at the conference that will be sticking with me for a very long time? Courage. This theme appeared again and again, and I'm not sure the word was actually used in the descriptions of the classes I attended, but it was there. Over and over. Anyone doing anything dynamic in their organization is doing so because they have the courage to start, the courage to fail, and the courage to be different.

Is this not true for anything we do in life?

The courage to walk into that church for the first time in 20 years. The courage to tell a long-time friend some real truth. The courage to start a business. The courage to try a new exercise or diet.

The courage to put yourself out there.

first-hand lessons in courage and leadership this week.

The courage to believe that failure equals opportunity. I believe Disney calls this "successful failures."

The boldness and bravery to be different when no one else understands. (Maybe that should be a benchmark for going for it??)

The irony is that this could not have been more obvious this morning, when my daughter struggled to find a suitable pair of pajamas to wear for pajama day in her class that would be deemed acceptable or that she wouldn't be criticized for wearing by her peers. That was her perception, anyway. How quickly we believe that we are being judged. How quickly we learn to let it get to us. I am guilty of leading by example in this case. And equally sad is that I have probably been her harshest critic over the years.

We are all a work in progress, are we not?

My favorite conference speaker shared a story of traveling with her children internationally. The first time they watched a new custom together in a European country, her son quietly told her that what he was watching was "weird." She kindly told him that if he was going to keep traveling with her, he needed to use the word "different" instead of weird. Weird implies that there's a right way and a wrong way. And in many cases, this isn't always true, is it?

It takes courage to believe that.

If I can wish anything for my children, coworkers, friends, right now it's that they are - you are - we are bold. That we listen to that quiet, but persistent voice in our head that leads us along a strange, but promising path, and that we take it. Tentatively at first, but that we take it.

So where are you being led these days?

Run your race

I've got the bug.

With the warmer weather (slept with window open last night. ah-mazing!) and one of my favoritist races in the world right around the corner, all I want to do is run.

This morning, I punched the numbers for the free preview station for the Universal sports channel (thanks, Dish) which was covering the Boston Marathon. And between all the bustling excitement on the screen, the clearly perfect running conditions (no wind, blue sky), and the unmistakable feeling of a country overcoming right in front of my eyes, I just wanted to be there.

I watched the elites take off, and a mere 2 hours later - between answering work emails and fleshing out a PowerPoint - I watched the elites run in. And while I will never know that feeling - the true victory, how it feels to be first, how much it hurts to run sub-5 miles for most of the 26 miles (seriously?), winning a buttload of prize money - I still know that feeling.

How it feels to push even when it hurts. How it feels to hear a crowd cheering, the relief of crossing the line, the pure exhaustion after kicking into gear that last mile (which feels like forever no matter the race distance). The pay-off of weeks of training.

The after-party.

excited for this annual tradition this weekend! rain or shine, baby!

The decision to do it all again soon.

And I could be crazy, but I think I will regret not attempting a marathon once in my lifetime. Maybe that's just today talking. But sometimes "today" needs to commit to tomorrow. So, a marathon just made my 40-by-40 list.

That crazy, ole list.

What started as a goal to accomplish before I turned 40 has since become a goal of things to accomplish while I am 40. As it turns out, 40 new things is a lot to do in a short period of time. And, really, I have gotten a great start on the overall reason why I did this in the first place - to get out of my everyday-the-same-thing rut. To jump off the hamster wheel. To run a new race.

This I have definitely done. Here's a bit of an update on that.

22. A visit to Gulf Shores, Alabama. A first for our family - and a must-do again! I wrote about it in the last post if you want to know more.

23. My first tattoo consult. Yes I did! A few weeks ago I made a visit to a friend's house in Green Bay, and we made a pitstop at Tattoo's By Rick. Apparently they've tatted up a few Packers, so I thought it was a safe bet. They are booked out into summer now, and as soon as I finalize our camp/vacation schedule I'll make the call. Unless, of course, it happens in Madison first! (Don't worry Mom, it's a really small tattoo.) Story to arrive later ...

24. Have you ever tried oil pulling? I guess it's a thing! And we tried it (read about the benefits here). I am pretty sure I can't do this daily. I like coconut oil, but swishing it in your mouth until it liquifies for 20 minutes is not how I like to enjoy it. I guess I should keep at this if I want to reap all the benefits (toxin removal, etc). How bad do I want that?

I am stepping up my game after this. Scheduling a half-marathon in another state (who wants to go to Arizona in January?); planning out my marathon adventure; booking my next mission trip. Giving, giving, giving in a whole new way. This is one area I really want to change.

But first, I have a birthday to get through.

I do have one ask in this already really long and rambly post: I am involved with an organization that is doing some pretty amazing things in our community. Box of Balloons gives simple, themed birthday parties to children in need in our area. It is a wonderful little set-up that my friends so brilliantly developed, and it is so easy to be a part of the giving. A great, inexpensive way for your kiddos to get involved, too (Sam and I are going shopping for a little girl's present this week). Please check it out and get involved if you can.

Seriously, there are good things happening here. And this is REALLY worth celebrating.