Forever Young

I'm kind of out of sync with people my age. I'm almost forty five years old. I have adult children and elementary age children. I would love to drop everything and go out with the girls sometime, but there are duties at home that only I can do. It would be great to put on a little black dress (not so little) and head out to dinner with my husband on a whim, but we have to wait until after Jade's care at night. By then, I'm slumping on the sofa and my little black dress is wrinkling. I'm tired. I'm not twenty five any more. The families we know with little ones are young (mostly). I guess what I'm trying to say is that adoption can be a little isolating. It can be a little lonely.

I'm not complaining. I love being a mom. It's the thing I think God has given me the desire to do. He has kept me in this season of raising kids for a reason. I've always spent most of my time with my children. We go to places together, watch movies, play games. Basically, my life revolves around my kids. I know that can be unhealthy. I know that a marriage needs date nights and alone time. It's easier to travel this journey of life with friends and confidants. As the seasons of life change, your friends change with you. The only thing is, I'm in multiple seasons. I'm in the thick of raising kids. I have teens that make me nervous (driving, friendships, choices). I have adult kids who want to be independent (I tend to want to continue to be their mommy). I'm a mother in law... help! I'm a multiseason mess! How do I juggle finger painting, student driving, college tuition, mother in law advice? Learning how to be all of those "moms" is my newest challenge, my newest season.

Our oldest son and his wife were "home" for a visit the beginning of January. Home is what I will always consider our small house by the lake. My daughter in love considers Montana home. I wonder what my son considers "home" now that he's married and settled in Montana. I wonder what my daughter in love thinks of her husband's mom. While they were here, I found it a little challenging to be the mother of a married man. Her husband is my first born, my baby. When I look at him, I see the curly haired baby everyone mistook for a girl. I hear the little man who knew all his shapes by three, including a rhombus. I feel his hand in mine, his lips on my cheek. Now when he kisses me, I feel stubble, weird. I hear him tell his wife he loves her. I see a man in front of me. I must brag a bit, he is a man to be proud of. He loves God and family. He has a full time job with insurance. He's a college student, scheduled to graduate with a Bachelor's degree in Psychology this spring. He's honest and trustworthy. The best kind of man. While I like to think I had a lot to do with who he is today, I know God is really the keeper of my children. He fills in the cracks. He covers the mistakes. He cares more for them than I do. He's their Good Shepherd, their Guide on this walk of life.

I will always love and relish the raising of my kids, even though it's hard. I will miss my babies forever. I will juggle the best I can, and remember that they grow up so fast, that they will fly away, that my mom role will change.  Rod Stewart sang it best, "In my heart, you will remain, forever young."

May the good Lord be with you
Down every road you roam
And may sunshine and happiness
surround you when you're far from home
And may you grow to be proud
Dignified and true
And do unto others
As you'd have done to you
Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever Young, Forever Young
Forever Young, Forever Young

May good fortune be with you
May your guiding light be strong
Build a stairway to heaven
with a prince or a vagabond

And may you never love in vain
and in my heart you will remain
Forever Young, Forever Young
Forever Young, Forever Young
Forever Young
Forever Young

And when you finally fly away
I'll be hoping that I served you well
For all the wisdom of a lifetime
No one can ever tell
But whatever road you choose
I'm right behind you, win or lose
Forever Young, Forever Young
Forever Young ,Forever Young
Forever Young, Forever Young
For, Forever Young, Forever Young

The Perfect Christmas

I made it through another Christmas. Truly Christmas has become a season, from November to New Year. Christmas isn’t just a day to celebrate the birth of Jesus. It’s over a month long! For a Christian it’s a great thing to celebrate the savior’s birth for an entire month. The only problem for me is I can’t. There is way too much pressure to “celebrate” the right way. Every year I’m determined to celebrate Jesus the very best I can. I am going to be the best mom in the whole world. I am going to make Christmas cookies, sing carols (while playing the piano), share the Christmas story, take Kodak moment quality photos, and generally shine like the star in the sky over Bethlehem.

The Saturday before the children’s Christmas program at church is a dress rehearsal. I thoughtfully adorned my children in red. My college freshman has come home and is handsomely dressed, just like I asked, and sitting in the back row of the sanctuary watching his adored siblings sing. Afterward, the six of us are going to the Christmas tree farm to pick the illustrious 2015 Christmas tree that will stand straight and tall in our family room. Our sweet friend is taking time out of her busy schedule to join us for a photo op. She is going to capture us selecting, cutting and carrying our perfect tree. The children will smile and laugh and join in the general merriment of the season.

 I dressed our children in their Sunday finest for the Christmas program. My littles are going to sing with passion and gusto the songs they have learned about our savior, Jesus. They will smile and wave at me from the stage so everyone knows who those perfect children belong to. I am going to smile from my chair and waggle my fingers in a wave that says, “Yes, those are my darlings. Aren’t they adorable?” After the performance we will head straight to McDonald’s for lunch because my kids have earned it for singing so beautifully.

Sometime during the month of December I am going to find the perfect gifts for my son and daughter in law and mail a beautifully wrapped box to them in Montana. The box is going to arrive on Christmas Eve and be placed under their tree to be opened Christmas morn.  Here at home, the children are going to dress in their red and white PJ’s and sit in front of the Christmas tree patiently while I shower and coif my hair to perfection before opening gifts, the gifts I have purchased over the last month and lovingly wrapped in thick paper and ribbon (my husband is a full-on laundry doing, dish washing, recital attending sweetheart, but gift buying is not his forte). I am ever so happy to do all the shopping. It makes my heart so happy to give gifts to my children. I anticipate the morning they will gently unwrap the beautiful boxes and squeal with delight at their new treasures. My husband is going to have placed small pieces of kindling by the fireplace the night before (next to the cookies for Santa) in order to light a blazing fire in which to sit and sip egg nog. Oh the meal I will prepare while the children are enjoying their new unwrapped toys. It will rival any delectable morsels Martha Stewart could ever dream up. The snow will be gently falling to the voice of Burl Ives’ “White Christmas”. Our family will sit down to a table perfectly set with red and green trimmings and fragrant center piece. After the meal we will enjoy decorating the lightly browned, deliciously soft sugar cookies the children and I have made in advance. The icing will be just the right thickness to gently nest the colored sugar sprinkled on top. Our Montana kids will call and Face Time with us how wonderful their Christmas was and how much they love the gifts we (I) sent.

Later in the evening, we will gather around the fire and sing a few carols, read the story of Jesus’ birth and go to bed happy and worshipful. Ah, a perfect Christmas for all.

 Our Christmas season was very different from the perfect Christmas I envisioned. Our son AJ absolutely hates getting on stage. He is an introvert and does not like the spotlight at all. Even the morning of the Children’s program he begged us to let him sit out. Alas, we made him dress up and sing on stage. Our explanation was that sometimes we have to do hard things. Sometimes, if you’ve practiced singing songs for an entire month with your friends, you have to perform them onstage together. He ended up singing, if ever so quietly. His lips did move. I was so proud of him for doing his best. Jade, however loves to perform. She knew all the words to three songs. She sang so well and so loudly, in tune, that I could hear her from my seat. She sang and did the motions so perfectly, I cried. I couldn’t help it. Jade was singing to Jesus, for Jesus. It was so beautiful. The Littles cried, too, at our photo shoot at the Christmas tree farm. It was too long and I was too bossy (trying to get the perfect photo). The tree did stand tall and straight decorated mostly by Jade. The kids woke up excited to open gifts (and it wasn’t 5 a.m., thank goodness).  They had on their worn, mismatched jammies, except for Jacob. I don’t think there is a Christmas picture of that kid with a shirt on. The kids loved at least one of their gifts and the fire was warm. Our gourmet meal turned out to be chili made by Dad, eaten on the bare kitchen table, lots of napkins. Some of our Christmas cookies were hard enough to play hockey with.  I didn’t get a package out to my Montana kids in time for Christmas. I felt terrible. When we talked with them a month ago, they told us that they couldn’t come for Christmas.  I intended to be the best mother in law ever and get a box of gifts out to them, but with a new daughter and medical appointments and three other kids I simply ran out of time. The good news is that they didn’t get a box out to us before Christmas either. The great news is that my son called to tell me that he was trying to surprise me. He knew I was sad about not having him home for Christmas so decided to spill it that they are coming for the new year. They will be here for ten days! Yippee! They will get their gifts in person! Our other four kids were all home and happy. Jade is stable right now with no appointments until February. We were able to spend Christmas Eve with my mom and dad, siblings and families. It was a very loud and fun day. We ate, played, argued politics, ate and played some more. We love each other.

Some of you probably had a perfect Christmas this year. I’m happy for you. I’m a bit envious of you. I hate you… .just kidding. The thing is, I wanted everything to be perfect.  The harder I try to be perfect the harder it is. As I get older and live through more Christmases, I wonder if there really is such a thing as a perfect Christmas. Maybe there are only perfect moments. Like watching Jade on stage singing her heart out, AJ sawing our tree down at the farm, having it warm enough to play football outside on Christmas Eve (I’m sure Grandpa was sore the next day. He ran into Jake and fell), hearing Danielle squeal over her new gift, listening to the commotion and screeching of nieces and nephews, hugs and kisses, listening to the Christmas story, hearing the kids thank God for sending Jesus. Christmas isn’t about perfection. It’s about faith, family and fun. It’s about love and giving. I think we get caught up in doing, instead of in being…being content, being generous, being thankful, being worshipful, being trustworthy, being honest, being respectful, being kind. Doing things will not make a perfect Christmas. Being in the moment and living for others will make the true meaning of Christmas shine like the star over Bethlehem. The true meaning is Jesus and why he came. To make imperfect people like me his own. I don't make Christmas perfect, Jesus does!

YOLO!

When I started as a nuclear tech almost twenty five years ago, I was trained to use a dark room to develop film. It was awesome. I remember stepping into the miniature revolving door, turning around, spinning the door and voila, pitch blackness. We played many tricks on each other in there. The films were put in the processor a particular way and the cassettes loaded with unexposed film. I bet I could load those cassettes still…hold the cassette open in my left hand, put the notch in the film in the right upper corner with my right hand, slide it into the cassette from the top. Then, wait out by the machine to make sure I captured the images I needed.  I had one shot to get it right. Today most everything is digital, including radiology. If I take an image upside down, I can rotate it on the computer. I can make organs different colors, speed motion studies, slow them down. I can watch a heart beat, blood flow, egg digest.

Technology is pretty cool. It's a great tool used for all sorts of daily life. Technology can also be a great means of miscommunication, poor grammar and laziness.  Today there are all sorts of words and phrases that didn’t exist even a couple of years ago. For example:  bae,  cray cray, totes adorbs, yaasss, YOLO.  I’ve heard all these “words” out of my teenager’s mouth. And, I’m guessing they are outdated already. What in the world is “bae”?   I Googled it…what in the world is “Googled”?  Anyway, Google says that “bae” means a significant other. My husband has never called me “bae”, thank the heavens.  I actually kind of like cray cray. I wonder why?  One of the acronyms I don’t care much for is “YOLO”. I saw it on a shirt and had to ask my teen what it meant. “YOLO” means “You Only Live Once”.  At first I kind of thought that YOLO was catchy. I’m all for reaching for the stars, setting goals, accomplishing more, living the dream.  But, as I thought about it, and heard it used, I think  it can be used as an excuse to do foolish things, make poor choices, take chances that are harmful or dangerous. Although, if someone asked me to drop everything and fly to Tahiti for a week, I’d have to say, “Let me grab my passport, YOLO!”

Jade had some imaging done to determine more about her condition. Almost every person with Spina Bifida has a tethered spinal cord. Jade is no exception. A healthy spinal cord usually terminates (ends) in the lower lumbar region. Jade’s cord extends all the way down to her sacrum area. It is

tethered to some fat there. As she grows the cord and associated nerves will stretch.  She could start to have numbness, pain, gate changes, worsening incontinence. As of now, she is stable. She is doing all she’s done since we brought her home. She is amazing. The pediatric neurosurgeon we met is a nice man. He operates on children’s spines and brains. I can’t even imagine. He talked with us about Jade’s spine.  He talked with us about surgery to free nerves from tissue. It is a very risky operation. Lasers cut through nerves as easily as fat or scar tissue. He is not anxious to operate on Jade.  Until Jade has issues, he will leave her back alone.

Dr. Neurosurgeon encouraged us to keep Jade busy. In his experience the children who are involved in activities are the happiest. They want to participate in activities with their peers. He mentioned karate and swimming. He agreed with Jade’s Spina Bifida doctor that if she can do it, let her do it. I think that advice gives a whole new meaning to YOLO. There may come a day when Jade can’t jump, when she can’t dance, can’t walk. There may come a day when Jade has to have surgery on her spinal cord. There may come a day when Jade’s life changes, not for the worse, just different. So, when my sweet daughter in law called about skiing over Christmas break, we talked about who would want to join her.  I think our teenagers, maybe some cousins, aunts and uncles will all want to go skiing. I told her that I would want to stay at a place with a pool because Jade can’t ski. My daughter in law is a truth speaking, warm, intelligent young woman. Her question to me was, “Why not?” I had to stop and think about that. If Jade can ski, then she can ski. YOLO!

 

Mean Old Lady

Have you ever met or know someone who looks perpetually mad? I have. I'm turning into that person. At least, I feel like I am. "You're never fully dressed without a smile"...hmmm, right. Some days, I find it difficult to smile.  I've always been a glass half full kind of person. The glass is slowly emptying.  Mostly, I'm exaggerating. But, truthfully I feel like a robot some days. I feel like I have so many responsibilities, my time is filled with medicines, bowel care, bladder care, appointments, laundry, dishes. You get the idea. Some days it seems like I'm so busy taking care of people that I forget to enjoy them, or I'm too tired to enjoy them. If there are too many days in a row like that, I forget to smile, laugh.

There are those who have day after day, month after month, year after year robot days. No wonder I run across mad looking people. No wonder the lack of laugh lines. There are those who care for children, parents, loved ones 24 hours a day their entire lives. The mad/sad faces of this world must be a reflection of a difficult life. Too much care, worry, pain, loss make for sad faces. My attitude and thoughts about sad/mad faces is changing. I no longer wonder if someone has had a difficult life. I realize they have had or are traveling a rough road. Do you think there are roads so difficult to travel that the sad/mad face is life long? I do. Over the last several years, I've known people who've lost a spouse tragically, lost a grandchild, diagnosed with cancer, acquired disease. How many more are there in the world I haven't met? The people I see in the grocery store, at the doctor's office, at church? There are too many hurting souls to count.

Is it possible to have a sad/mad face and still have joy? I think it is. In fact, the days that go by without wet sheets in the morning, belly pain in the night, scripts filled at the pharmacy without hiccups, insurance that covers, children who laugh, friends who encourage...those days are for cherishing. Those days are for smiling. Those days make the robot days disappear. Those days, I smile at God, and say, "Thank You."

Learning to smile through the robot days is my next goal. I know people who do it... those annoying smilers. I want to smack them. Just kidding. To live joyfully, to live with genuine contentment is a gift that many I know share with the world. God shines through them so brightly that it's impossible not to be blessed. Some people just have the gift of encouragement, and they exercise it. Thank God for those who care, who take the time to notice hurting people. Oh to be more aware, more focused on the heart broken. To get out of my robot days and seek out the lost. I'm striving to be a perpetual smiler...not a mean old lady. But, if you see me without a smile, without a greeting, if I forget your name, it's because I'm having a robot day. I might need you to forgive me, to understand me, to encourage me. And, I'll try to pay it forward and encourage the next needy soul, even if it's just a smile.

Are you ready for some Football!!

My husband grew up in an athletic family. He has four brothers so they had a ready made basketball team. They grew up without a television. They played outside, in the road, every sport you can think of. To this day, our get togethers always involve a ball.

Naturally, our kids are involved in sports. For the most part, they are naturals. Our second son, Jacob is an excellent football player. If you imagine running into a brick wall, that's our Jake. From the day he was born, he's been a brute. The width of his shoulders, the thickness of his chest, his hips and butt, are all a text book football physique. In addition to being a big kid, he's smart. He's one of those players that can see all around him. He just knows where the play is going. He absolutely loves football.

Jacob's senior year we were encouraged to make a highlight video. We were contacted by someone who gets your athlete noticed. For thousands of dollars we could have them send Jacob's video to colleges all over the US. We didn't pay the money. We decided that if Jacob was meant to play in college, the coaches would find him.

 There's a reason we didn't pursue college football. Jacob had been injured as a sophomore. He had also been injured as a junior. Jacob's sophomore year he didn't get up after a defensive play. He was on the bottom of the pile and turned his ankle. The opposing team's doctor told us that Jacob had a sprain. I knew it was more. Jacob ended up with a plate, six screws, six months of rehab. We reevaluated if Jacob should play football. He was cleared by his surgeon, so we consented to letting him play. He seriously was unstoppable his junior year. He wasn't afraid. He played like he might never get to play again.

Then, with just two games left his junior year, Jacob took a hit to the head. Truly, linemen take hits to the head every game. He intercepted the ball and was pulled down backward. He hit his head on the ground. He tells me that he couldn't walk, that he couldn't hear the next play call, that his world was spinning. I remember that play like it was yesterday. I saw him stagger. I should have run down to the field and demand he come out. There were two plays left in the game. He played them both. We won.

Over the next few months Jacob had four seizures. It could be a coincidence, it could be that it runs in the family (two cousins with epilepsy), it could be he injured his brain. Jacob had a seizure while driving a car, another at a youth group gathering, one at school.  I was a mess. He is so smart and so talented. I was afraid that he would have seizures the rest of his life because of a stupid game. I didn't want him to play ever again. His coach reminded him that football is just a game. He encouraged him not to fight us if we told him he was done. Thank you, Coach.

Jacob went to a neurologist. He started taking medicine. He didn't have seizures after that. We debated letting him play his senior year. I know what you are thinking. We should never have let him play. I'm right there with you. The only thing is, Jacob wanted to play. He desperately wanted to play. We could let him play and fervently pray, or deal with an angry son, who was an exemplary student and peer. Jacob had suffered a health crisis, a broken relationship, the death of his second dad the summer before his senior year. We were loath to take football away too. When his neurologist cleared him, we agreed to let him play.

He was a man on fire his senior year. God blessed him with good health and a team that surrounded him with support and love. The comradery Jacob experienced his senior year was truly amazing. He loves those guys like brothers.

 Jacob was contacted by several Division 3 colleges.We were set to go to a fantastic private school. We filled out the FAFSA and the school's financial aid form. Jacob visited the team four times, even spent the night in the dorms with the team.  Jacob received scholarship money for his 3.9 grade point and 28 ACT score, but  D3 schools aren't allowed to give scholarships for sports. We knew that. We were hoping and praying that the financial aid would come through.  It turns out that God chose plan B for Jacob. The private school was going to cost too much. Jacob was going to be $100,000 in debt with a bachelor's degree. He decided to go to the state school, virtually free. He decided not to play football.

Oh, how Jacob misses it. He talks about trying to walk on the team where he is attending. He talks about the feelings he had while injured. We talk about his future. We talk about head injuries. We talk about how important it is to feel like you're  part of a team. How wonderful it is to be good at something. How much of a loss he feels.

My mama's heart hurts for my Jacob, but is relieved he's not hitting 250 pound mooses for hours a day. He has chosen to keep his brain intact, but his heart is broken. I think it was the best choice. I'm so proud of him. I'm so sad for him. I know God has big plans for my boy. Learning to be content is one of the hardest lessons. I'm praying Jacob gets plugged into a new group, a safer group. Maybe the Chess Team...

Time to Dance!

At the Great Wall

Our daughter Danielle loves to dance. She glides across the kitchen floor, boogies down the grocery store aisles, leaps across the gym floor. When she hears a song that she's danced to, she remembers the choreography step by step, even if she hasn't danced that particular piece in years. Our sweet girl says that dancing allows her mind to empty (which we think happens periodically anyway. She is sixteen after all).  She hears the music and moves. She has no teenage worries, boy problems, friendship squabbles when she's dancing. She simply goes to a place of peace and beauty.

Danielle dances with a beautiful group of people. Don't get me wrong, the girls all want the lead. They sometimes snap at each other or swear at their own mistakes. Mostly they are supportive and encouraging. The owners/teachers of the dance studio are a married couple who danced professionally for many years. They are incredible. They expect the best from their dancers, but don't demand perfection...be on time, follow dress code, respect your teacher, treat each other kindly, and do your very best. We love their balance between professionalism and fun. Danielle has benefited from their tutelage and friendship. She loves them.

After Danielle's last performance her back started hurting. She went to the chiropractor for six weeks and started to feel better. Then, a few weeks later, bending over to pick up a plate from the dishwasher, she went down to her knees. She had to crawl to the couch. She was in agony. Her chiropractor took xrays and sent her for an MRI. Danielle has a "bad" back. We've been told that many teen athletes are diagnosed with anterolisthesis, bulging discs and pars fractures. That it's not a big deal. Well, Danielle's physician referred her to a spine specialist to determine what we can do to help heal her back, to not worsen her condition, to determine if she should still dance. She has cried many tears. Dance is all she's ever wanted to do. Her dream is to teach differently abled students to dance. She is determined to do just that.

Danielle dances with Jade. They hold hands and Jade mirrors Danielle's movements. They laugh and sing and bounce around the house all day it seems. Jade wears braces on her legs and feet (AFOs medically speaking). I have talked with Danielle's dance teachers about Jade dancing at their school. They are very supportive of Jade joining their company. I have a few thoughts about it. While Jade has the personality, motivation and confidence to do anything she sets her heart to, some things will be hard for her. I wonder, would she rather dance with  kids who don't wear AFOs, who don't have certain restrictions?  Or would she prefer to dance with children who are similar to her? Who succeed in different ways? I want her to feel like she fits in, like she adds to the company of dancers. That she's not standing out.  I want her to feel like she belongs and isn't all that different from others. But, I also want her to know that she isn't limited by her feet. That dance is about grace and beauty and art. That she is her own person. That she adds beauty to the dance because she is unique, because she is Jade. Her dancing won't be perfect pointed toes and flexible legs. She will look different from the other dancers because of her braces. She will join in for the pure pleasure of dancing.  She will most definitely stand out...in the most beautiful of ways. I will watch her dancing with pride, because it is hard for her, because she is happy, because she can.

"What's Wrong With Her?"

My maternal instincts are almost always on overdrive. I'm like a mother bear when it comes to my children. I am really trying to slow down and not respond to people so vehemently. I wish that I were quicker to listen, slower to speak and even slower to become angry.  After certain "ninja" episodes, I tell myself that others say what they want to.Why can't I say what I'm thinking? When it comes to my kids, and even what I consider injustices in the world, I can't shut up. I don't think I'm one of those people who has an opinion about everything...we all know a few of those. But, if you get on a subject I'm passionate about, watch out! You may come away with a bloody stump.

When I see or meet people who are physically different, I'm curious. I've worked in a hospital over twenty years and the human body is interesting. We are so beautifully created. I can't even fathom how every cell must divide perfectly in the womb to make a "normal" baby. When people have a difference physically I wonder what changed in the womb to make them the way they are. It's fascinating to contemplate. Sometimes it's hard not to stare. In all honesty, it's not with disdain or pity I stare, but a genuine curiosity about how their body works. I wonder if that's the case with society in general. We are so concerned about being beautiful. We are so tied up in being happy and comfortable and pretty. I think sometimes we unknowingly project onto people that they are less than normal, that they are weird or unlovely. Sometimes it is with unkindness that people look at others with disgust. Sometimes it is blatant. I can't figure out why we do that. Every one of us is flawed. I for one, have so many special needs on the inside, that if they were displayed on the outside, I would be scarred and deformed. I wonder why we determine the outside is more important than the inside.

In the rural county I live in, our family is different. Our two youngest are from Asia and they both have physical special needs. Once you have a child with special needs, you realize how unspecialized the world is.Going to the grocery store can be a challenge. Jade wears diapers due to her Spina Bifida. I get stared at while changing her diaper. She is almost six years old. Shouldn't she be potty trained? No one has asked me that, but they are curious. I don't feel I need to explain anything. I just smile. It's important for my kids to know that they can be anything they want to be. That their needs don't make them who they are. They are precious, smart, capable people. Jade is going to have to be especially resourceful. I don't want her to grow up thinking that she has to explain her body. I don't want her to think she is so different that she is excluded from life. She will need to be flexible but tough, forgiving and confident, comfortable in her skin, stand up tall and smile.

A question I have heard more than once from friends and strangers is, "What is wrong with her?" I absolutely want to go ninja and ask "What is wrong with YOU?" Why would anyone ask that question? It tears my heart out that even the most innocent curiosity could be so hurtful. Thank God Jade doesn't understand English fluently yet. I would hate for her to hear such a horrible thing. I hope to teach her how to graciously and confidently answer that question. One she will be asked her entire life. There is nothing wrong with Jade.She is simply different. She is fearfully and wonderfully made. I don't know why she was made the way she is. I will have to ask God that some day. But, I know that Jade and our whole family will have many opportunities to shine. We will share many conversations about differences. We will have the privilege to share love and hope with others.  Jade can either be angry about her differences and difficulties, or she can use them to point others to a loving Creator. She can be an educator, an advocate, or be angry and defeated. We hope to give her wings, trusting that God will keep her soaring. She is going to fly high....so, so high.