"This is still the place that we all call home."

I'm supposed to be writing for the other blog on which I am a guest blogger, but all I can think about is Moore, Oklahoma.

***

We had all of our students in the designated "safe rooms" as the sirens started going off outside.  No matter how many times we conduct tornado drills at school, no one is ever prepared for the real thing.  Students were in tears, heads buried in their teachers' stomachs.  Parents frantically tried to check out their children and beat the storm home.  In the safe rooms, teachers read books aloud to ears that were only moderately listening.

After an hour or so, the teachers ran out of tricks, and the storm ran out of strength.  It had just missed us by about three miles.  I work on the north end of Norman, and the tornado was, at one point, forecasted to run straight down our road.  As parents walked their children out the doors and to the safety of their homes, I noticed everyone holding their loved ones a little closer.  Meanwhile, I worried about our own little one, who lives inside of Birth Mom's belly somewhere in the OKC area.  In the words of my friend, Katherine, "I'm sure this is just the start of a lifetime of worrying about your little ones."  (Baby and Birth Mom are fine, by the way.)

I came home to a house without power, Internet, and cable, so I didn't fully understand the devastation that had occurred just north of us until I saw pictures hours later...and slowly started receiving those sickening text messages from friends:

"We are fine.  House is gone."

***

Then, suddenly, it didn't matter that the laundry wasn't folded, that I had missed my workout, and that there were dishes piled in the sink.  It didn't even matter that my husband's car had gotten slammed with golf-ball-sized hail in the storm while he was at work.  In that moment, I was simultaneously thankful beyond measure and infinitely heartbroken.  Tragedies truly have a way of putting "the urgent" in perspective.

I can't imagine what it must be like to have every conceivable blessing in one moment and have it all taken away in the next.  I felt guilty for going on with my normal life today when, just a couple of miles away, so many couldn't.  Tornadoes are part of ordinary life in Oklahoma during the springtime, but no one ever expects this.  The news reporters said over and over, "This is the worst case scenario."  

In viewing the rubble and utter destruction over the past day, I have been reduced to tears at times.  Even so, I have never been prouder to be an Oklahoman.

I was born in Texas but came here seven years ago to begin college at the University of Oklahoma.  This place is my home now, and I can honestly say that in all my life, I have never met kinder Americans than the ones who live here.

Every state has its faults, but Oklahoma is still defined by people who say "Yes ma'am," who understand hospitality, who recite the Pledge of Allegiance in school and who, most importantly, help each other in times of need.

I remember going to New Orleans about two years after Hurricane Katrina hit.  The lower ninth ward still looked, in places, as though it hadn't been touched.  Everyone had taken care of themselves and left.  The cleanup here will take months, I am sure, but not for lack of effort by local people stepping up to contribute.  Target was picked clean of diapers and bottled water today because so many people had already bought those supplies to donate.  The Red Cross had to turn away volunteers from three different sessions.  Our gym's weight room was filled with truckloads of items to be taken to the local shelter.

Everyone is doing something.  That's just how Oklahomans are.  When tragedy strikes, people step in.

I'll close with this story that I heard from a friend:

A woman and her husband huddled in a closet with their three babies as the tornado drew closer and closer to their house.  They cried, panicked, and prayed to Jesus as loud as they could to save them.  When the storm had passed, all five family members walked out of the only room still standing in the house, without a scratch.  Beams had pierced through the walls of the closet and all.  The only thing left on a wall?  A cross that says, "Faith."  

At the end of the day, after all of the volunteers have left and the donations have dwindled, that is all we have to hold us together.

Choosing Happiness

It's Mother's Day, and if we're being honest, I was sure that I'd be celebrating my first one as a mother this year.

I can't help but think back to this time last year, before we had begun the adoption process, when I was more angry at our situation, at God, and at everyone else (deserving or not) than I dare to admit.  I was thankful for my own mother that day, but in general, I just couldn't wait for the day to be over so I could stop seeing pictures on Facebook of everyone with their little ones.  In a post from 2012, I wrote about how our church helped to ease my hurt on Mother's Day by showing sensitivity and valuing all women for their unique gifts instead of singling out the mothers and making everyone else feel inferior.  I still have never seen that done anywhere else, and I am incredibly grateful to go to a church where stories like that one are typical.  But the day as a whole was still incredibly sad and unfair for this girl with such a bitter heart.   

A year later, we have finished all of our paperwork to adopt, but we're still waiting.  Still no baby, still no word on when we will get one.  Not much has changed about our situation, but everything has changed about my outlook.  

I realized that I can choose to be annoyed and hateful about what I don't have, or I can be appreciative of my own mother, my mother-in-law, and my two sweet grandmothers.  I can actually listen to and believe people's words when they say, "You'll be a mom someday" instead of inwardly seething because "that's easy for them to say."  I can cherish the "mom-to-be" cards that I have received this week instead of resenting the  fact that they don't say, "To a Wonderful Mother."  (To my sister-in-law, niece, and nephews: If you're reading this, I will keep that sweet card until the day I die.)

At my uncle's funeral, the preacher talked about "living the dash," meaning the dash between the year you were born and the year when you die.  It seems cliche, but I have held onto those words to remind myself that, "In the end, it's not the years in your life that count, but the life in your years."  In my years thus far, I have gotten to learn so much of what I know about love, friendship, kindness, good cooking, and Southern hospitality from the wonderful women in my life, particularly my mom.  How quickly I tend to forget those things as I only look ahead to what comes next!  On Mother's Day this year, I have decided to "live in the dash" and to be thankful.   

Being angry and bitter is easy.  Choosing happiness is less natural, but so worth it.  Even in the waiting, I am truly blessed.

Waiting.

Whenever people find out that my occupation is a special education teacher, their initial response is almost always, "Oh, you must be so patient!"  Friends, let me be the first to tell you that I am NOT patient.  Not even a little bit.  In waiting for Little Fenrick to join our family, I have discovered, even more, just how impatient I actually am.

Every morning when I wake up now, my first thought is, "Maybe today will be the day that we get the phone call!"  And every night when I go to bed, I'm always slightly disappointed that it didn't happen.  Every time I see an unknown number pop up on my phone, my heart stops for a few seconds, and every time the office pages me at work to tell me that I have a phone call, I fly out of my classroom and down the hall.

We only started this process four months ago.  Now I know you're definitely thinking, "Gosh, MR, you really are impatient.  Most people have to wait nine months for a baby!"  I get it.  I just can't help but think that it's a little easier to wait when you have some sort of general sense about when the baby is coming.  Perhaps that's only true for super-type-A planners like me.  

When we went to our adoption seminar in February, 16 babies had already been born and matched through our agency in 2013 alone!  Our case worker seemed to think that we would be matched in a few weeks.  Since the seminar, though, only one baby has been born.  The agency is currently working with 14 birth moms, but none of those babies are due until summer.  (Of those moms, some may, through the agency's counseling, decide to parent and not make an adoption plan.)  I have heard people say that the number of babies born in a hospital at any given time ebbs and flows, and that certainly seems to be true.  

Most of the time, I can push the following thoughts out of my mind, but every once in awhile, they creep up and make me doubt.  "Something must be wrong with us because we haven't been picked yet."  "Our agency isn't doing their job because they made it seem like this would go much more quickly than it has."  "We definitely deserve to get picked before those people on the website."  (Sorry, y'all- just being real.)  "Maybe people think we're too young and won't have a clue what we're doing."  (Okay, so it's probably true that we won't have a clue what we're doing.)  "Our case worker doesn't like us."  "Our friends and family probably think we are idiots because we told them we thought we would have a baby by now."    

I know that whenever we finally do get the call, the timing will be perfect.  I can already look back and be thankful that it didn't happen before the marathon, before we got to have our last little weekend getaway as a couple, and before I had to go on maternity leave.  (I feel sick just thinking about having to make six weeks' worth of sub plans and leave my students in someone else's hands.  God knew I didn't need to worry about that.)  In the moment, though, the home stretch feels like an eternity.

Come home, Baby Fen.  Your crib is waiting for you.  And so are your parents.

A Dream/Nightmare

Several of you have already heard this story, but it's just too funny not to share.  And since my husband refuses to be a "guest blogger" on this blog that I originally created for both of us, you'll just have to imagine that he is the one writing (because this is actually his dream).

We are getting so impatient for a baby that we are often consumed by thoughts of when we will get to bring him or her home.  Every day when we wake up, we both think, "Maybe today is the day that we will get the phone call!"  Clearly, our subconscious is consumed by these thoughts, too.

The Dream:

We adopted a grown man.  

Not only was he a grown man, but he was nearly twice as old as us; he was in his forties.

When Andrew met our "child," Andrew looked at him, perplexed, and said, "Uhh, I thought we were supposed to get a newborn..."

To which the man replied, "Oh, but I am a newborn!"

Maybe that isn't very funny to anyone else, but it's hilarious to me.  I'm still chuckling just typing about it.

How to Run a Marathon (A Beginner's Guide)

I just finished my fourth marathon today.  No matter how many times I complete one of those, I don't think the feeling of crossing the line at the end will ever stop being exhilarating.  Today, the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon started right outside the front door of our church.  Not many people can say that!  And, seeing a man running a full marathon while carrying a huge American flag over his head the whole time held even more significance than usual.  There are so many beautiful things about racing that you can't possibly explain to someone who looks you in the eye and asks why you're crazy enough to run 26 miles.

Although I'm no expert, I have learned a thing or two about how to do these things.  My friend recently asked me if I could talk about how a non-runner could run a marathon, so, as promised, I'm sharing the tips that have helped me most.

General Advice

-Not everyone can run a marathon.  I don't say this to toot my own horn.  However, some people are more prone to injuries than others.  I have been very blessed that this is not the case for me, but please hear me say that it is not worth doing permanent damage to your body for the sake of proving a point.  I do believe that, with proper training and mental fortitude, most people can run a half marathon.  But running 13 miles and running 26 miles are actually two very different things, and, speaking from personal experience, your body just starts breaking down after 20-22 miles.    

-Don't go into training for a race with the intention of losing weight.  Make sure that you are eating enough, or you will not have the strength to accomplish your goal.  Your body may become more toned through the training process, and your clothes may start to fit differently, but you should not be losing weight.

Training

-Find a friend or a running group to help you with your training.  Even if you and your buddy don't run the same pace, have at least one person with whom you can be accountable about your workouts.  Sometimes the hardest part of training is just getting out the door!

-Prior to beginning your training plan, you'll need to build a running base.  For a half marathon, you need to be able to run at least three miles without stopping.  For a full, you need to do six.  If you haven't run a day in your life, never fear!  There are many "Couch to 5K" training plans that can help you reach your base of three miles.  

-Use a good training plan.  Here's a hint: The training plan that you have created off the top of your head is not a good one.  My favorite one is Hal Higdon's Novice Training Program.  You'll need at least 12 weeks to complete your half marathon program and at least 18 to complete the full.  (That is assuming that you have already built up your base of three or six miles.)

-It is acceptable to occasionally skip a midweek training run, but DO NOT cheat on your long runs.     

-Get the proper running gear.  It may seem ridiculous to you to buy special clothing for running, but you will be glad that you did.  Go to a specialty running store to get fitted for shoes.  You'll also want to make sure that you have moisture-wicking socks, shirts, and shorts.  Cotton will give you blisters and will also overheat you more quickly than you can say "Jack Robinson."

-People often ask what they should eat and drink on long runs.  Unless the weather is exceptionally hot, I usually stick with water.  (On hot days, I'll have some Gatorade.)  My favorite "food" is GU Chomps.  You can buy them at Academy, Dick's, or any sports/running store.  GU will provide you with the caffeine and sugar that you need to keep going.  What do I do with my water and GU while I'm running, you ask?  I usually map out a loop of 4-5 miles and leave my water/GU at the starting point so that I can come back around to get it every 45 minutes or so.  It's okay to stop running for a few seconds to fuel up.  On race day, I put my GU in the pocket of my shorts, since water and Gatorade are both set out along the course already.

Race Day!

-Get a good night's sleep.  
-Don't obsess about the weather.  More likely than not, the weather will not be ideal for racing.  You can't do anything to change it, so don't trouble yourself with checking it every hour for a week before the race (like I do).  

-Plan to be at the race much earlier than you think is necessary.

-Ask people to come and cheer for you.  Adrenaline can carry you for miles!

-Dress appropriately.  My general rule of thumb is that you should be freezing at the starting line.  You will certainly warm up after you have run for a few miles.  

-Eat breakfast.  I normally don't drink caffeine, but long runs and race days are exceptions.  I have a cup of strong coffee and a PB&J.  I've also heard people say that things like Nutella toast and orange juice are good options.  Whatever you do, DON'T have a glass of milk or a cup of yogurt.  

-This seems obvious, but go to the bathroom before the race begins...even if you don't think that you should.  Running for 2-4 hours at a time can do crazy things to your body.  In the words of a friend, "You can't have a PR (personal record) without a PRP (pre-race poop).  Enough about that.  

-Don't do anything different during the race than what you have done during training.  There will be pit stops at least every two miles on the race course, but that doesn't mean that you should stop at every one.  If you have been getting water every 4-5 miles during your training runs, that is exactly what you should do on race day.

-Walk briskly through water stops but try not to walk otherwise.  Once you stop to walk, you may have a very hard time getting started again, if you're anything like me.      

-Slow and steady wins the race.  Seriously.  Don't try to be a hero and run faster than your body can handle.  After all, with thousands of other people racing, the goal isn't to win but just to cross the finish line.  

-Believe you can do it.  A great deal of success in running comes from training properly, but it takes more than good training to keep going once you have already run 10 or 20 miles.
-Celebrate your accomplishment!  Less than one percent of people in the world will ever run a marathon, and you just became one of them!  That deserves at least a big bowl of ice cream or something.  

Remember this:

"More powerful than the will to win is the courage to begin." 

-Unknown Author

Happy Running!

The good will win.

If you're reading this, you're probably old enough to remember exactly where you were when 9/11 happened.  Events of such significance, such tragedy, and such horror seem to impact you forever as that seemingly "normal" day that began just a few hours earlier suddenly turns black and the whole world starts spinning.

For the past ten years or so, I had not experienced such a striking moment as the one when I walked in late to eighth grade science class and saw the planes crashing into the Twin Towers.  And then those moments started happening practically faster than the news could keep up.

July 20, 2012.  

Aurora, Colorado.  Mass shooting in a movie theater.

December 14, 2012.

Twenty elementary students and six teachers die at Sandy Hook Elementary.

April 12, 2013.

Dr. Kermit Gosnell goes on trial for first degree mass murder of babies over the span of 30+ years in Pennsylvania.

April 15, 2013.

Boston Marathon is bombed, killing three and injuring many more.

"Why?" 

Aren't we all asking that question?  Why would someone choose to do such a thing?  Why would God allow that to happen?  Why those precious children?  Why couldn't someone stop it?  As much as I want to continue to have faith in humanity, events like the one on Monday are a vivid reminder that all is not right with the world.

I'm preparing to run my next marathon in less than two weeks, and I am a flood of emotions.  I'm heartbroken for the people who lost loved ones in Boston.  I'm angry about the pure evil and hatred that exist in our world.  I'm scared to run in my own race on April 28th.

One of the few things I have a sense of clarity about through Boston's tragedy is the following:

I cannot choose to live my life in fear.  

With these horrific events taking place all around us at such a rapid rate, it is a wonder that we choose to leave the safety of our own homes anymore.  But, what happened in Boston could have happened anywhere.  What took occurred in Sandy Hook, Connecticut, could have occurred at my school in Norman, Oklahoma.  Whether it's teaching or running a marathon, anything worth doing involves taking a risk.  I still get up in the mornings and go to work, though the possibility exists that someone might bring in a gun.  On April 28th, I'll run the Oklahoma City Memorial Marathon to remember not only the people killed in the OKC Bombing in 1995, but also those who died in Boston this week, doing exactly the thing that I am setting out to do.  

And finally, I have to hold on to this hope:

One day the good will win.

Even in this sick world, there are glimmers of hope reminding us that evil will not triumph forever.  Amid the tragic events in Boston, some marathoners kept running after they crossed the finish line and went to the local hospital to donate blood for those suffering injuries.  A few small voices found the courage to testify against the unspeakable murders taking place at Dr. Gosnell's clinic.  One teacher at Sandy Hook Elementary chose to give her life to save her students.  

Today and every day, I am thankful that a brighter day is coming and that, in the words of J.R.R. Tolkien in his book, The Return of the King, "Everything sad will become untrue."  

May that day come quickly!

"'Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man.  He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.  He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.'  And he who was seated on the throne said, 'Behold, I am making all things new!'  Also he said, 'Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.'"

-Revelation 21:3-5  

Mission Accomplished.

Normally, I am of the opinion that it is a little pretentious to blog about one's possessions or the amount of money in a person's bank account.  That said, I hope that this post doesn't come across as bragging because this is not a story about our hard work or savvy money-saving skills; it's really about the generosity of people and God's provisions to our little family.  

Somehow, we've come up with enough money to pay for this adoption.  

It's crazy to think that we began this journey just three months ago, and our needs have already been met far beyond what we ever could have imagined.  I can't even explain how it happened.  

The garage sale that we had this weekend was the perfect example of how everything has fallen into place so beautifully as we have been waiting for our baby.  It rained for two days straight this week, and the weather is looking uglier again today.  But for the two days of our garage sale, the sun came out, and we had a high of 75 degrees.  We sold 90 percent of our stuff on Friday, and Saturday was almost as successful.  This whole process has been that way.  Things that have been completely out of our control, like having great weather on the two days of our sale, have just happened.  No reasons, no explanations.  It's as if, in the midst of our doubt, God smiles down on us at exactly the right time and says, "You don't need to worry about this."

Do you ever hear those commercials for medications that explain all the benefits of taking a certain pill and then hurriedly rattle off 500 side effects, one of which is always death?  If you were to only listen to the side effects for those medications, you would never take the pills!  Adoption is sort of like that, too.  We knew how expensive this would be, and for awhile, that is the main thing we considered.  "This is impossible for people in our financial situation," we thought.  (Okay, Andrew didn't think that nearly as much as I did, but he isn't nearly as much of a control freak as me.)  Then our friend, Andy McDonald (who has adopted three children), told us that "if you wait until you have the money in front of you, you'll never do this thing."  In that moment, I knew that we just had to trust beyond what we could see and believe that, if adoption was the right thing for our family, we would be okay.  Clearly, adoption is the right thing for our family.  

You, friends and family, have been a huge part of all the good that has happened to us in the last three months.  You have wrapped your arms around us and shown us what it means to love and to give selflessly just for the sake of giving.  Thank you for joining us as this amazing story unfolds.

The thing I keep coming back to is the fact that we don't deserve this.  We're just two people who make a lot of mistakes and have a lot to learn.  But God "makes His sun rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous."  Praise Him, for His grace rains down on even me.

Garage Sale Day