Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Pea Pod Necklace

Three Peas in a Pod! These are my husband (Aug.), mine (Jan.) and my son's (Oct.) birthstone colors. 

Let me know what color's you want and how many you want and I can make you a cozy little pea pod to represent your family. Great for mom's! $15
January to December. 

Each pendant is a one of a kind and no two are alike.
Pea Pod can have as many peas as you like.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Reluctantly Writing

I have been putting this off. Not wanting to even address this issue that has caused so much pain, grief, and stress in my life, I have ignored the struggle within me to share this part of my walk with Christ. Close relatives and friends know of my pain, but where else does God want me to go-to reach? I do not want to be THIS person. I do not want to share this. This is not the way I want to glorify His name. I would do it with a miracle. He may have other plans. 
(I literally cringed as I wrote that. It actually hurt.)

Infertility. I walk with it everyday. I wake up to it. As I walk through the grocery store I endure it. People have no idea, but it is all around me all the time. Making others aware of this pain so that it might help just one other person is my goal.

Grief is the most egotistical of all emotions, and infertility is grief—a grief that no one else understands. Most people don’t have a clue. When suffering through infertility, every day you wake up NOT PREGNANT opens a new wound. It’s another day of death. Every minute of every day is spent mourning the loss of a child-a brother, a sister, a life. They say that time heals all wounds, but not this one. Time is your enemy. Every day is another funeral, another failure. At least, that’s how I feel.

If you’ve ever experienced the loss of a loved one, you might have a frame of reference for what I am describing. That’s not to downplay the grief associated with death, nor is it to say that the feelings are the same. They aren’t. But they do share the emotional exhaustion and the intensity of pain. Infertility is death, but with this tragedy there is no funeral. There is no gathering of friends and family. There is no closure. And as so often is the case, no one will take care of you because they do not know they are needed or how to respond. You break all ties, further isolating yourself. You can’t go out because—heaven forbid—you may see someone pregnant or with a baby. You start skipping birthday parties and baby showers. There is no way you can endure passing around baby items. Family reunions are out of the question because a cousin has a baby on the way. Getting together “just to hang out” is no fun because they don’t understand. (And who wants to be with a bunch of happy people anyway or, the opposite, who wants to hang our with someone who is depressed?) You’re left without the energy or the will to so much as dial a telephone. Your loved ones begin to wonder, “What’s their problem?” Soon you become a punch line. “What do you think is her excuse this time?” Or even worse, they judge you and say, "I'm over it." But for the infertile it never ends.

If you know someone who is having difficulty with infertility, understand that they need you. I can’t tell you what they need, except to know that you are there for them unconditionally. Unconditionally means when they are crying, weeping, screaming, out of their minds with sorrow and saying things or doing things they don't mean. Your relationship will likely be a little bumpy for a while. Heck, it might be a lot bumpy. You must take it upon yourself to single-handedly keep the relationship alive. Don't get too wordy. Saying "I'm sorry" is enough. A hug is better than trite words or long lectures that you think will help. At least once a week, you also need to ask specifically about their infertility and how things are going. Maybe they won’t want to talk about it. Respect that. But maybe they need to vent. Listen and be supportive; that alone will go a long way. Ignoring the issue only makes a person feel isolated and alone. Finally, I want to encourage you to be persistent. This isn’t a grief that gets easier with time. It gets harder. The longer they go through this, the more painful it will become and the more they will need you. One more word of advice if you are infertile: surround yourself with people who lift you up and who encourage. Avoid those people who are blind to pain and tear you down.

This has been my life year after year. Five years of attempt after attempt at getting pregnant, I am exhausted but still trying. Anger has been a companion on my journey as well as bitterness and I fight with them everyday. The pain has become a friend that reminds me of the pain my Lord and Savior experienced on my behalf. If you want to read more on that read my article Feeling the Pain.

You can't connect with a loving God when your heart is filled with rage. And I have been filled to the point of explosion. When I am almost to explode, He reminds me of who I am and what He has done for me. What keeps me still trying? It is the picture of my Savior on the cross-the picture of hope. I cling to His faithfulness, His promises, and His unconditional love for me. This does not mean that I am going to get exactly what I want, but I continue to hope that my desires can match up with His plans for me. He shows me love when every morning I wake up with that death, that awareness of infertility, and I make it through the day. How could I ever leave Him? That would be insanity. He gets me through. The pain is never ending but I am enduring because of Him.

Friday, June 17, 2011

The Tree of Life Pendant

I love this piece. It is 1 3/4 inch across. I have another one that is 2 inches and it is just as beautiful. (Picture is just slightly larger than actual size.) The Tree of Life comes in many colors: Fall red, Spring green (shown), Pearl, Winter white, Summer green (Darker than shown), and an earthy brown shell color. Comes on a black cord with lobster claw clasp. Beautiful and so fun to make!

Each pendant is a one of a kind and no two are alike.
Also beautiful as Christmas tree ornaments.

(More pictures to come with other colors.)

Wednesday, June 15, 2011


The table was piled with food. Crispy seven layer salad, cheesy broccoli, savory fried chicken, creamy fried potatoes and so many different casseroles I lost count. The desserts earned their own table and consisted of many chocolate dishes piled with cool whip, along with cookies, cakes, and pies. It was a beautiful site to behold. The gym where the food was laid out had transformed from a place of sweating play to a place of gathering and worship. Strong arms set up tables. Chairs were squeezed together to make room for as many people as possible. Our church had a potluck dinner about every month and I looked forward to it like it was Christmas.

Even before the line was formed, I would spend my time in the church kitchen watching the ladies lay out the food. Old hands prepared nourishment for the young. Young mothers prepared food for their men and children. It was a bustle of activity you could not watch without anticipation. The air was full of love, joy, and togetherness. With the smell of food in the air and the kitchen made cozy warm from the ovens, I watched my church family work together towards one goal. When we were all finally gathered in the gym the pastor thanked the Lord for the food he had so lovingly provided, for the hands who had labored over it, and for a place to gather in freedom.

Standing in line, surveying the spread, I chose my first course. These special Sunday’s I liked to pretend I was the queen of England. I would start with my favorite food-the seven-layer salad. Oh, how I loved every bite, so different from the last. After, I would have my second course-meat and potato, veggie and buttery, soft bread. The last course would be a casserole and then I would be free to enjoy dessert. Dessert was never just one thing but a plate full of several different small pieces of each dish-my favorite part of the whole meal. On these special Sunday’s our parents never told us what we had to eat. We had freedom to choose. It was wonderful.

We were allowed to sit wherever we wanted. Usually, I sat with friends and enjoyed our silly stories and games. Sometimes, however, I would sit with one of those women who I had watched make the food. There were a few in the church who were like grandparents to me. I loved them. As I sat by them, relishing every bite of my meal, they would ask me questions about the happenings of my young life. They talked to me as if I mattered. They cared.

Church potlucks have sadly seemed to go out of style. Now that I am grown I realize what I loved most about sitting down and eating with my church family was the feeling of community and knowing I belonged to something larger and grand. Praying together. Nourishing together. Those old hands are now a cherished example of wisdom I am trying to glean. I was fed in that community until I was full. Fed and filled in many different ways.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

My Signature Pendant!

My husband has called me Bird since we were dating. I really love his endearing nickname for me and the fact that as a mom I am creating a safe and comfortable "bird's nest" for my family. 

My Bird Nest Pendant can be made with pearls for eggs but I have several colors to choose from. You can even choose your birth color. $15.

Each nest is handcrafted so no two nests are alike.

Monday, June 6, 2011

The Importance of a Name

A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.
Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.
Sitting in the broken down vehicle we all sighed with displeasure. The heat inside the van escalating, we opened doors desperate for a breeze only to listen to the sound of passing cars. Minutes crept by and the heat rose along with our sour attitudes. What would we do? Looking at our surroundings, I noticed a sign for Wankey Oil. “Wankey is a funny name. I’m glad my last name isn’t Wankey.” Some in the car smiled, the children laughed but one of the adults said, “I bet they have plenty of money to pay for anything they need. I would give up my name for that right now.” Pride for my last name, a gift from my husband, surged in me and my heart felt broken for them to be able to make such a statement. 

When we finally got back on the road the thought of my last name and its importance went around and around in my head. Oh, I would love to have a famous last name that would get me what I wanted and an inheritance to match. Who wouldn’t? My mind went deeper until a silent voice whispered in my ear telling me my name is not as important as I am making it. It is something but not everything. What is important is that I have my Heavenly Father’s name for me. His child. His beloved. His adopted one. And He has already blessed me with an inheritance-eternal life living in His radiant glory and love.

Still finding importance in my name as a gift from a family that has so lovingly taken me in, I also realize God has given me a family who has given an inheritance so much more important than money. What matters is what something is, not what it is called. Both sides of my family are lovers of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and they have passed this to me, my husband and now to our son. What an inheritance to be sure-the love of our Heavenly Father, eternal life, and an even bigger family to find comfort and support.

Dedicated to the many members of my family, all sides, who have shared their walk with Christ with my little family. Thank you and I love you!

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Even a Dog has a Purpose.

Undersized, smelly but cute are the words that came to mind when I looked at the small black and white dog. His life had not started in the best of circumstances. The women who owned him had dubbed him worthless. He was a give away due to an overbite that caused his tongue to stick out of his mouth and markings that were not show worthy. As a result he was thrown in with a group of female cocker spaniels who would not let him eat his food. At 2.5 pounds you would think he would be too small to emit such a smell but he reeked. Taking pity on the small animal, we accepted him into our family. During his third bath I looked into his eyes and I could see something more than just his outside flaws. Even though he had been dubbed worthless, I could see him doing great things. And he did. This special animal has brought joy to the life of my family. Through horrible times he has licked away tears, loved a crying baby, given cuddles during times of fear, and caused many a laugh even during tense moments.  His purpose is clear. When I look at my special little dog who came from such meager beginnings, I always think of a favorite children’s song that I used to sing as a child.

By: Joel Hemphill
He's still working on me to make me what I ought to be. 
It took Him just a week to make the moon and stars,
 the sun and the earth and Jupiter and Mars.
 How loving and patient He must be, He's still working on me.

1. There really ought to be a sign upon the heart,
don't judge her yet, there's an unfinished part.
 But I'll be perfect just according to His plan.
 Fashioned by the Master's loving hands.


2. In the mirror of His Word reflections that I see. Makes me wonder why He never gave up on me.
 He loves me as I am and helps me when I pray. Remember, he's the Potter, I'm the clay.


Relief washes over me as I realize that many times I have felt worthless but I know my purpose. Serve the Almighty. My markings are wrong and I am not fully developed but I have been accepted into God's family. God knows what I can be and He is still pushing me towards His goal for who He wants me to be. How wonderful that in this world full of people who will judge and shut me out for my flaws and for who I am, I am still loved by a wonderful Savior no matter what I look like on the outside or the inside.