1,000!
1,000 times we laughed, or cried, or simply had coffee together.
Thanks for listening.
Like a mother reminisces over her baby who has grown into a teen, I look back and marvel. So much has happened.
So much sadness. Enough to fill 1,000 years. 1,000,000 times.
So much happiness. Enough to fill 1,000 years. 1,000,000 times. Times 1,000.
I have witnessed incredible miracles--like the birth of our first grandchild.
What amazing joy to meet this perfect gift from God.
I have often thought about why I blog--and if I should continue. I always come back to the same conclusions: my blog is my catharsis, history, scrapbook and social/family network. I love to share about the joys and challenges of adoption, large families, parenting, LIFE--the laughter, joy, and hope and that every day brings.
And I love to share about things that nobody else wants to hear--like how I once shaved my legs in the car. Good times people!
I DON'T love to share about death and dying and loss and torment and hell and destruction and living life with a son lost to cancer. I sometimes do. It's always raw. And it feels bi-polar to follow up that post with any other topic. The Day My Son Died And Took Half My Heart With Him . . . . I Peed My Pants While Texting a Picture Of A Port-A-Potty. (Come to think of it, I forgot to share the texting-while-peeing story--soon!) The depths of despair to the heights of glory--all in the same day--that is my life.
Sometimes, I have so many words I can't capture them fast enough; others, I flounder for days to find anything at all to say.
Often, I have considered taking my blog private, mostly to protect my children's privacy. And I would like to openly discuss certain topics--many APs naively (erroneously) believe their blogs are not followed at international bureaucratic levels. They are. Seriously. Not that mine is. At least, I hope not, because if it is they must be very confused about how I got approved for adoption when I post about things like my history as a stalker. That poor man is, no doubt, still traumatized.
And I would like to talk about things that I just can't talk about for reasons I can't talk about. Maybe someday.
And the reason I decide NOT to go password protected?
Because more than anything, I pray that Jesus will find a way to use me. I pray Jesus will work through my fingers to help HIM--in whatever humble way that might be. And you just never know when that will be--or how.
Which is why I can't wait to share post #1,001.
In the meantime, I would love to hear from you! My blog followers! I know you are out there--but you are often so silent! Now is the time to come forth! Speak! I demand you to speak!!!
Sorry to sound so PMSish--I'll rephrase that--please comment, pretty please?
If you prefer, you can e-mail me: r8rgr8 @ frontier (dot) com (remove spaces) (And yes, I know, we need to change our e-mail address to reflect our growing number of children--does my delay say anything about past experiences in changing an e-mail address? I'd rather get a PAP smear while simultaneously having my wart frozen off and my eyebrows waxed!)
I would love to know if there is a post that especially resonated with you? One that made you laugh, or cry, or love me, or hate me. Surely, in those 1,000, there is a reason you are still here with me. Humor me.
CHEERS! To another 1,000!!!
Up next--an incredible story of how God can use a blog to bring about love, faith, and the miracle of adoption!
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