Wednesday, May 15, 2024

Great Things He Has Done

In December, I shared the story of a miracle God gave our family for Christmas. The one embryo belonging to Blair and John Samuel that sprang to life a day after the news was given that there were no living embryos left and adoption was the next option they should explore. I’ll start out today with a word from them. 


4 years- 4 years of countless shots, doctors’ visits, surgeries, a second job, a loss, failure, tears, loneliness, and grief- this is what comes with an infertility journey. Through all the hardships, God has been good and held us, even when we couldn’t hold up ourselves. 

Most of you know the story about how we got one single miracle embryo, during our second round of IVF. There was no other explanation, other than God. I am happy to report an important update to that story. God saw this wonderful miracle to the end. We are expecting a precious baby this December! We are still in awe and will forever be thanking Him! 

For those of you battling infertility, we are so sorry. Please know that you are not alone. This is a devastating journey, in every way. You have done nothing to deserve this, and you are still worthy- despite not being able to have children, right now. We don’t know how the journey will end for you, but God will see you through. He is always faithful to never leave his children. Please reach out to us if you want to talk about anything infertility. Unfortunately, we are pros! 

“You have turned my mourning into dancing for me; you have put off my sackcloth and girded me with gladness, to the end that my tongue and my heart and everything glorious within me may sing praise to you and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever.” Psalm 31:11-12

We wanted to be sure to thank each and every one of you who have prayed so faithfully for John Samuel and me throughout this difficult journey. We are so blessed to have had such a large community of people go to God on our behalf. Please continue to pray for a healthy pregnancy and for a healthy baby to join us in December.  -Blair and John Samuel 

 

Their embryo transfer was on April 2 and they were set to find out if it was successful on April 12. Blair had no idea what time they would call with the results, so Davis and I went on with our day but with a square knot and a couple of slip knots in our stomachs. We were having family over in a couple of days, so I was in a garden center looking for blooming plants to fill a basket for the table. Right there in the middle of the petunias, geraniums, and marigolds, I got the word from Blair that she was “very pregnant” - borrowing the words of the nurse. With strangers all around me, the tears just welled up in my eyes and rolled down my face. The words we’d waited so long to hear finally came. Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jesus! Those were the only words that would come to my mind and the only ones that were needed. 

Everything is perfect according to her tests and her doctors. The baby’s growth, her hormones, the development. The once lifeless embryo is now a thriving baby with a strong heartbeat. It has little arms and little legs and is moving all around. There is no doubt that God breathed life where there was none. Life has a way of lulling us into a sleepy place where we’re less attentive to the works of God. He gave this gift to our family in a way that has reawakened our awe and wonder at His power and goodness. 

When something isn’t right with one of my children, something isn’t right with me. They’re an extension of me, so what pulls on them, pulls on me. I’ve felt like there have been days I haven’t been myself. My mind has been in another place. Through these years, there have been times when Blair felt like everything was going wrong all at once and I’d be on the other end of the phone having used all of my limited words and wisdom with nothing left to offer her. I have to confess times of questioning. Like we all do when we don’t understand, we asked why. This fallen world has a way of filling our minds with questions we want to ask God. In recent years for me it’s been -why do some loving couples struggle with infertility while others, who don’t even care for their children, have no issues at all? I don’t think God minds questions, but we can’t get so far into the weeds of the whys that we become blind to His goodness and sovereignty and the hope He offers. No matter how far we have to travel out of the briars and the brush, we have to find our way back to the place where hope and trust are. 

With the miraculous way the embryo got its start, I’ve felt an overwhelming calm and peace about this since they shared the news. When God is so obviously in something, you have the freedom to sit back and rest in His power. If you have prayed for them, I could never begin to thank you enough. Overwhelmed doesn’t begin to touch it. Innumerable times, I’ve been told they were the subject of your prayers. Countless times, I’ve been asked about them and their updates. In a world that seems to be mostly turned inward to self, you have been the very opposite of that. To have so many offer their time before God to plead for our children, well- you just have no idea what that means to us. If you’ll continue to do us that honor for a healthy pregnancy, we’d be so grateful. I also have to note that some of the loudest cheerleaders have been women who were never able to have children. The tears in their eyes when they spoke to me came from a place that recognized and appreciated the deep longing of that journey. May God bless them, every one. May God bless you all for your kindness to our family. 

I don’t have room to write all the miraculous ways God has shown His hand in this, but I’ll leave you with one beautiful example. My sweet mama was here with us on Mother’s Day and she shared this story. I recorded it and wouldn’t trade it for anything. She said on December 14, after I’d just told her, the day before, that there was no embryo left, I called her back to share the glorious news- there was one healthy embryo that came to life in a miraculous and inexplicable way which had baffled the medical staff. Joyful, thankful, and not knowing what else to do, my mother said she went to her Bible and opened it and found this verse jumping off the page. She had it printed and framed and gave it to Blair for her first Mother’s Day. 

A story only God could write. Footnotes only He could insert. Winks only He could give. A miracle that came to life at Christmas, was implanted the week of Easter, and is due to be born the week of Christmas. Thanks be to God. 

For the last several weeks, I’ve answered vaguely, beat around the bush, sent cryptic messages, changed the subject, avoided conversations, darted behind store displays, refused to make eye contact, and basically acted like a weirdo. Their sharing the news couldn’t have come a moment too soon for my cranial pressure and, perhaps, most of all, my social life.

Y’all have a great week! 

PUNKIN  -My soon-to-be favorite title 


Wednesday, May 1, 2024

The Greatest of These Is Love

As a woman almost in her upper 50’s, I’ve noticed my thoughts have turned more introspective. Even as a child, I leaned toward being introspective, but I’m much more so now. I wouldn’t call my shift a mid-life crisis but maybe more of a mid-life appreciation. I know what you’re thinking- I’m too old for a mid-life anything but, according to its definition, a mid-life crisis (or appreciation in this case) can occur anywhere from age 35-65. I still fall within that range so I’m owning it and, as I’m getting older, I’m becoming all too aware of a few things through experience and observation. 1) Time passes like the wind. 2) People don’t live forever. 3) We make time for what really matters to us. 

I’m trying to become more intentional about how I spend my time. At earlier points in my life, I spent it on more frivolous and temporary pursuits but, as I’ve gotten to be a woman of a certain age, I’m finding more spaces on my calendar to put people. In this crazy-paced life we’re all living, our schedules are bulging with obligations and it gets harder all the time to find opportunities to get together with people we love. A friend group I belong to was recently planning to get together for dinner. We all looked at our calendars and had to go through 4 weeks of possible dates before we could find one that fit into everyone’s schedule. And I know I’d rather try to assemble a congregation of alligators than to have to find a Saturday when both of my brothers can come to a family function. I get it. We’ve all got things. A lot of different things. 

I think it’s safe to say people don’t congregate like they once did. Church, family reunions, revivals, funerals- even front porches. Those places aren’t nearly as crowded as they once were. Those were important gatherings back in our parents’ and grandparents’ day. Faith, family and friends were priorities and they didn’t just make room for them, they planned around them. When our parents are gone, will there ever be another one of those big family reunions? The ones where everyone comes to a church or a park and brings potato salad, deviled eggs, and a cream cheese pound cake to share. You sit down to eat at long church tables covered in white paper and meet your second-cousin’s wife and kids who are sitting across from you while you sip on a styrofoam cup of sweet tea. Probably not. I don’t think our generation will make that a priority like our parents did. I know I haven’t been to the last few we’ve had because there’s always something else I need to be doing. 

Well, April has been a month of sweet visits with people I don’t see often. People from all different places and times. It started with some of my relatives on my daddy’s side. Most people have one side of their family that gets together more frequently that the other. Not that the less congregative side loves each other any less, they’re just a more difficult flock to herd. Such is the case with my daddy’s family, but they’re an awfully fun people group so it’s always a treat when we get together anywhere other than a funeral home. Unfortunately, we often do our visiting sitting in wing back chairs in a parlor with “Amazing Grace” playing softly in the background. We then move our “reunion” to a fellowship hall or home with tables loaded down with southern fried tokens of sympathy and congealed sentiments of support. In the South, nothing says “we’re sorry for you loss” like compassion sent from the kitchen. That side of the family has assembled at more than its fair share of funerals. Not just for the older generations, but there have been an abundance of premature ones, too. Every time we stand around at the cemetery, we talk about getting together in more cheerful places. 

April brought a time for some of us to do just that. My daddy’s sister, his only living sibling, and her two daughters, son-in-law, and granddaughter came for a visit on a perfectly beautiful spring day. The rest of the people in the pictures are from our branch minus a few. It’s always good to see my Aunt Frances and catch a glimpse of my daddy’s face in hers. It took an awful lot of back and forth negotiations and coordinations to find a time that worked for everyone, but I wouldn’t trade that day with them for anything. 



Last Friday, I spent a few hours with two of my main college professors. The retail floristry program at Mississippi State was small in comparison to other departments and the students and teachers became like a family. I’d not seen one of them since I graduated and left campus. That was 34 years ago. I told them being between the two of them made me feel like I was 20 again. The visit brought back so many sweet memories and I was thankful for the time we’d all carved out for each other. Their careers molded mine and made a difference in my life. We took several pictures, but this one best captures the spirit of the day. And as a bonus, taking our picture was my sweet friend, Laurie, who moved away and I don’t get to see her much either. She joined us and that was just another drop of sweetness added to the day. 
On Saturday, I went to Birmingham for the wedding of one Blair’s good friends in high school. They’ve been out of high school for twelve years, but Taylor spent many nights at our house and went on trips with us. I’d bake their crew brownies or get out extra blankets when they watched movies or dig out the appropriate medicine when someone wasn’t feeling well. All the mama stuff we do when our kids bring friends home. Taylor was one of us for that season and I couldn’t let her get married without being there. You can see she started crying when I spoke to her. I knew what the tears meant because I felt them, too. A mixture of sentimentality, love, and a thankfulness for the season our lives crossed before time moved on as it always does. 
Keeping up with people is a subject on which I don’t claim to be an expert. I’ve failed in the area more times than I can count. It’s an arduous business. One that requires perseverance, sacrifice, and commitment. My mother is probably the most perfect model for how it’s done. The world is such a hateful place right now. Anywhere you have your love stored in someone- well, it’s worth working to preserve it- especially in a time when we’re surrounded by so much that is unlovely. We all need to keep our people close, these days. As I realize more and more just how little time we have to love on each other and influence each other for the good, I hope I can commit to doing the hard things. Drive the miles, make the arrangements, give the time, exert the effort- to show people they matter to me. It’s hard work and requires a lot to pull it off, but it’s so much better than regret. April was a good start. 

Night to y’all, 
JONI 


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