Chris and I went to see a counselor yesterday who is a "community favorite" around here. It's a husband and a wife who are christian counselors and we were able to have a session with the husband. We wanted to go and talk about Ellie since Chris is finally finishing up school and is finally getting time to process the craziness of this past year, and I've been wanting to go for a while. I've told this to a few people, but in the midst of tragedy it's hard to see if you're making progress at all. People tell you they think you are, but it's so fuzzy and confusing to see yourself. People see you as you begin resurfacing in society with friends and at church, but not many see the hours of crying and the crippling memories the way you do. I was seeking validation and also an objective (and professional) perspective, but mostly we want to deal with things the right way for our family.

It was amazing.

This man was so kind and gentle and soft spoken, but he spoke truth straight into my spirit..and the sames goes for Chris. I didn't quite know how that was going to happen for both of us going into it, as we are in two different places in the grieving process, but everything he said fit seamlessly into both of our perspectives and met us where we are..at the same time.

One little (big) thing I want to pass along from our time was a question he asked us in regards to having experienced such tragedy so early on in our marriage, and it was this:

What does God expect of you?
And also: what do you expect of God?

We discussed it as it relates to Ellie, but in the end, he gave us a book that he and his wife wrote. In it includes a list of what we are to expect based on scripture.....and man, totally put me right back where I need to be in navigating all of this.

See, it's easy to believe the lie of entitlement after any hard trial. I genuinely felt "entitled" to be blessed with multiple children after this, and "entitled" to live a life free of intense hardship from now on. "I earned it." Don't get me wrong, these thoughts of mine weren't floating around on the surface. If anyone asked me if I felt this way I would have known that the "correct" answer is no. But subconsiously...very deep down...they were there.

But those hidden beliefs were a lie.
They are a lie that sets you up for failure.
A lie that sets you up to immediately distrust the Father the second another hardship comes your way.

....

So what am I to expect? [emphasis my own]
- I do not expect my flesh to improve with age (Ps 73:26)
- I expect my flesh to do what it has always done and think as it has always thought (Romans 7:18, Gal 5:17)
- I do not expect God to indulge my fleshly nature (Heb 12:6)
- I expect God to free me from being controlled by my fleshly nature (Rom 8:2, Gal 5:16)
-I expect to increasingly find my identity in the spiritual nature (Rom 8:9-13, Gal 5:16)
-I expect God to continue to expose my fears through situations of helplessness and to displace my fears with trust in Him (James 1:2-4, 1 Peter 4:12-13)
-I expect Him to teach me the fear of the Lord (Ps 34:11)
-I do not expect to grow stronger, for I must decrease and He must increase (John 3:30)
-I do expect him to perfect his strength in my weakness (2 Cor 12:9, Is 40:29-31, 2 Cor 4:7-5:9)
-I do not expect less conflict or fewer trials (2 Tim 2:3, 3:12)
-I do expect sufficient grace for every conflict and every trial (2 Cor 12:9, 2 Tim 3:10-11)
-I expect God to remove the fear of suffering so that I am no longer intimidated by the threats of the enemy (Is 41:10)
-I do not expect a map of God's plan for my life (Ps 37:23, Prov 16:9, Jer 10:23)
-I do expect God to be my constant guide and provide a light for my path (Prob 3:5-6, Psalm 119:105)
-I expect God to remove obstructions from my mind and heart that interfere with knowing him intimately (2 Cor 10:4-5)
-I do not expect my spouse or others to meet my needs (Ps 62:5)
-I do expect God to fill my life and meet my needs (Ecc 5:20, Matt 6:33)
-I do not expect myself to meet the needs of my spouse and others I love (John 15:5, Jer 17:5-8)
-I expect Jesus to meet all the needs of those I love as I offer myself to be an available vessel of His provision (Phil 4:13, Col 3:8-17)
-I expect to delight myself in the Lord (Ps 37:4)
-I expect Him to give me the desires of my heart in His timing and on His terms, for they are always best (Ps 37:4-11)
-I do not expect a "normal" life (Ps 139:1-24, Isaiah 54:1-17, 1 Corin 2:9)
-I do expect a supernatural life that cannot be explained in human terms (Ps 139:1-24, Isaiah 54:1-17, 1 Corin 2:9)
-I expect him to protect my heart (Phil 4:7)
-I expect His courage in my cowardice, His presence in my loneliness, His comfort in my grief, His forgiveness in my resentment, His fatih in my doubt, His love in my indiference, His joy in my anxiety, His hope in my despair (Col 2;10, 1 Cor 2:3-5, 2 Cor 12:9, Ps 73:26, Gal 5:22-23)
-I do not expect appreciation from those to whom I minister (Matt 6:2, Romans 2:29)
-I do expect and long to hear his voice one day saying "well done, my good and faithful servant (Matt 25:23)
-I expect Him to glorify (reveal) himself in me (rom 8:29, 1 Cor 3:16, 1 Cor 1:26-31, 2 Cor 4:7)
-I expect to be continually surprised by God (1 Cor 2:9-12)
-I expect, when His purpose for me is fulfilled, to awaken in His presence and there to behold His face, feel His embrace, and enjoy Him forever (Rev 22:4, Ps 73:23-24, 1 Cor 15:51-57, 1 Thess 4:15-18)
[from 18 inches, by J. Ray Addison, PhD, and Susan Addison, PhD, available here.]

....

Dr. Ray lingered on the subject of the decision making process in the face of hard circumstances; will we choose to continue living solely for the Kingdom and expect only what scripture says? Or will we retreat to lukewarm faith for fear of trusting Him?

Yes. So worthwhile. Kingdom truth flowed from his whole being for the whole hour and a half..to the point that I began silently pouring tears because my eyes couldn't contain it anymore. They were tears of comfort, not of conviction. I totally recommend this book, and even better, them...if you're in the area.

(Hugging)

Before I was married, I envisioned the romance of all that it could be, and although I felt as if my expectations were relatively on target (mostly thanks to the transparency of my parents)--there were still things that I entertained in my mind that were straight-up stupid (mostly thanks to media). It's amazing now that the romantic endeavors are the least of my concern, not that my husband isn't romantic, but because of the amazingly mundane and selfless ways that he is.

I remember having my wedding before Pinterest, and other such sites, were really a thing (gasp) (wasn't that long ago) and then all of the sudden finding myself envious of all the new and trendy things to do at your wedding and take pictures of so that the world can see. You guys, I had sincere jealousy that we didn't hold hands around the corner of a door for a sweet picture and that we didn't exchange gifts for the record. And then I remembered how desperately I just wanted to marry that man and start our life together.

But this isn't a post about trendy wedding fads. It's a post about how none of that stuff matters anyway. What matters is that I had no idea that I was marrying someone who would eventually have to lower me onto the toilet and hold me there after a devastating c-section day after day until I had the strength to do it myself. I didn't know I was marrying someone who would drop everything he's doing to just hold me while I cry. for. hours. I didn't know I was marrying someone who would be strong enough to bathe and dress and talk to and cry over our sweet baby after she had already left to be with Jesus. I didn't know I was marrying someone who had the courage to stroke my hair and ramble on about who knows what to distract me from the whirlwind of an operating room. I didn't know I was marrying someone who had the strength to carry his sweet daughter's coffin to her grave and place her gently inside.............because I surely couldn't do it. I didn't know I was marrying someone who actually thinks and acts as if my needs are greater than his own.

So what I'm saying is who the hell cares about the romantic notes that are supposed to be left around the house and the continual filling of a special flower vase and the surprise dates and the compliments.

It is only because of the occurrence of an intense tragedy that I got to see who it is that I really married. I know the depth and power of re-reciting marriage vows after walking through hell together and knowing from experience that we meant what we said. (Something I highly recommend, by the way.) I know the joy of realizing that our wedding day was just the jumping off point, not the pinnacle. And he is worth far more than words could ever describe.

..........

“The husband is the head of the wife just in so far as he is to her what Christ is to the Church - read on - and give his life for her (Eph. V, 25). This headship, then, is most fully embodied not in the husband we should all wish to be but in him whose marriage is most like a crucifixion; whose wife receives most and gives least, is most unworthy of him, is - in her own mere nature - lease lovable. For the Church has not beauty but what the Bride-groom gives her; he does not find, but makes her, lovely. The chrism of this terrible coronation is to be seen not in the joys of any man's marriage but in its sorrows, in the sickness and sufferings of a good wife or the faults of a bad one, in his unwearying (never paraded) care or his inexhaustible forgiveness: forgiveness, not acquiescence. As Christ sees in the flawed, proud, fanatical or lukewarm Church on earth that Bride who will one day be without spot or wrinkle, and labours to produce the latter, so the husband whose headship is Christ-like (and he is allowed no other sort) never despairs.” 
― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

 As a family who wants to adopt multiple babies, this post by my sister who lives in Nigeria continues to make me tear up every time I read it..I am absolutely envious and anxiously awaiting the day that every orphaned child has a home. Keep up with the rest of her adventures at Letters from Liz Tate

....

Orphan Sunday

After visiting the motherless home last week, my roommates and I have been making plans I continue to see the babies. We would love to be able to go on a regular basis and, Lord willing,  be able to build a relationship with the home. The best time for all of us seems to be from 8:00-10:00 on Sunday morning, before church. 




Ahh bless my soul... His little laugh cracks me up every time it look at this picture!
When it was time for us to go, it was so hard. The babies were crying and clinging to us. It was hard to go, knowing that the babies might not be held and cuddled until we return. I can see why they don't want us coming, because all the babies cry when we leave, but it was SO worth the crying to know that they'd been held and loved by someone. 

Another spot on post from Jamie the Very Worst Missionary:

Better when.

...When?

Now.

Let me say this out loud for emphasis: I cannot wait to be pregnant again.

Chris hears it 1400 times a day so might as well share the wealth.

On a non-baby related note...which my brain does, in fact, have the ability to do...do you ever find that you're scrolling through facebook and then you say out loud--oh, wait, I just remembered that I don't care about any of this.

Horrible, right? I care about peoples lives. Just not via facebook...people might think the same about me and this blog. Such is life in these weird social media times. As I type on a blog....whatevs.

But alas, I can't keep my photography facebook page unless I have a normal one. Sooo. Bigger problems out there..much bigger problems.

And for another drastic subject change: I've been finding that our friends are usually the ones being asked how we're doing because I'm sure it's hard territory trying to figure out a good way to ask us--but, rest assured, we are doing great..and we welcome you to ask us whenever the heck you feel like it. Some days we aren't doing great! That's the nature of going through stuff like this, I think. Some days I literally cry and smell Ellie's hospital clothes until I can't smell anymore. Other days we joke with friends about how we get the parents of the year award for having the perfect child who never did a single bad thing. It really just depends.

We love to talk about her, so don't feel like you need to tread lightly around us. If I cry, then you can hug me. And if I laugh, then you can laugh with me. Such a beautiful thing about community.

And lastly--the packing process has begun. We started packing all the clothes we won't need until the spring comes back (a joyous day that will be) and then we took a carload of stuff to goodwill that we haven't touched in two or more years...we just kept moving them in bins from place to place. Silly.

We still don't know what the most economical choice is as far as moving trucks go? Anybody know?

Happy Saturday. Enjoy your day while I pretend to listen to Chris study out loud because it helps him and he said I didn't really have to listen so I'm not the worst wife.

Let me tell you why I haven't been writing a lot lately--

because my husband has been HOME and NOT AT SCHOOL AS MUCH. like hardly. Except right now he's doing another 12 hour shift but that's not even terrible because he only has a few left.

We've been catching up on life, cooking together again, drinking a fair amount of sake (not a plethora, just a celebratory amount) and hugging. A lot. Also crying but that's mostly me because I think I'm in shock.

You guys. I don't want to sound ungrateful for school and education and all that other stuff that is politically correct and biblical but I have feelings and I'm a human and the past 15 months have freaking SUCKED. Maybe it wouldn't have sucked if we like hated eachother but whoah, forreal, not seeing eachother regularly for more than a day is just not going to cut it. Maybe it also wouldn't have sucked if Ellie hadn't skipped this whole Earth biz'ness to start chillin in perfection for the rest of forever. Buuuuuut, what can ya do.

What I'm saying is that in a year or 4 I'll be grateful for this crazy accelerated whirlwind of a degree that he was able to get......but right now............right now I'm contemplating how to make it through his graduation without yelling obscenities and/or having an emotional panic attack. The only solution is probably going to be playing Fruit Ninja through the ceremony.

We move to Charleston in 3 weeks and it's the most excited about moving I have ever been because I majorly dislike the process of moving but when I think about driving down there with our belongings and our cat.........yes. It is good.

This doesn't mean we're not going to miss the junk out of everyone up here...we will. We will a lot. But this feels good. It feels refreshing. We'll be stopping on the way down to drop some stuff at my parents' house and also grab my surfboard and doing so will most likely cause tears of sweet sweet joy. Inanimate object..I know..don't even care.

Let's talk about how I'm not ready for it to be cold. Me=denial. Cold + Tates = not the best mixture. But gloves and blankets and fires and cider, you say! No. Get out of here. But hey. Winter at the beach beats a winter just about anywhere else. Except for maybe the tropics.

So.......that's happening.

The Mudders and Tates traded photography for photography because that's a cool thing to do with your friends. Bartering skills. Practicing for the commune. Kiddddddding. But really. A preview of their photos can be found here if you're into creepin' and stuff. I have too many favorites and not enough time to upload them all so here's a few.

When I was growing up, I didn't even know there WAS a great debate on the proper time to begin thinking about Christmas. Mostly because my parents are ballershotcallers, as our friend Nicholas likes to say. So, naturally, when I grew up and went to college and heard people debating about it..I literally, with all of my being, thought they were joking.

They weren't.

That being said, I guess half of you can prepare to be disappointed in this post. It's clear where I stand. Christmas should be all the time. I feel confident in my ability to tell you what I'm about to tell you whilst still being uber excited and invested in Thanksgiving. Human beings have this amazing ability to be excited and invested in more than one thing at a time. It's incredible.

K. Beast mode. 92% of our Christmas shopping is done........done AND wrapped. I'm not into "defending" myself on my blog because that's silly talk, so for the love of all things non-defending, we're moving in four weeks..before Christmas obviously. We bought our gifts this year with reward points that we had to use before December. And I didn't want a bunch of little gifts to get separated and lost in the shuffle of moving, so I wrapped them. It should be quite hard to lose and/or separate obnoxiously trendy green chevron gifts with gold ribbons.