It’s been one of those weeks. Busy, yet quiet. Full, yet empty.

Sophie, Morgan, Eli, Hannah and I joined Regi at an engagement in Pensacola Beach over Memorial Day weekend. Friends, family and the beach: the perfect way to begin our summer. When we returned, I thought for sure some magical fairies would have packed for me. They didn’t and now my house is a wreck. Open boxes, sealed plastic containers, to-be-purged pile, and to-be-stored pile all growing by the minute. I simply want to close on Point A so that we can get to Point B. I’m done with where I’ve been, ready to move on.

Ever feel like you’re barely holding on?

My favorite day over the weekend was the one spent at Navarre Beach. The clear and shallow water (for the most part) was amazing. I knew the depth of the water by the color of the blue. Dark blue=deep. Light blue=shallow. Bluish white=sand bar. Our goal was to follow the bluish white because it would take us to places we otherwise wouldn’t go. My petite eight-year-old niece was with us and I have to admit, she has a mind of her own. I figured she knew that that to go back to shore, she had to carefully follow the sand bar after telling me she was heading back to collect seashells. She didn’t realize the current threw us a little off track while swimming and that she’d have to adjust her path in order to follow the sand bar back in.

She headed towards Regi who was near shore. He’s not a good swimmer so anything below the knee and he’s of no use if you need him to rescue you. The main difference between us is that I don’t worry very much when it comes to the water because I grew up around it. He didn’t, so I’m always telling him he worries too much. When I saw Hannah go sloshing back to shore, I didn’t think much of it. But Regi already knew what was about to happen.

And it did. Her short little legs stepped into the dark blue and she was forced to tread water without really knowing how. I was out of reach and didn’t even realize she had encountered choppy water. Regi yelled for me to notice while starting out to the deep, knowing that he’d be in trouble soon. I began swimming towards her, the adrenalin pushing each stroke. She wasn’t so far that I wouldn’t get to her in time, but you know that feeling of “What if?” Regi signaled a gentleman closer to help when he realized he couldn’t go further. Hannah did her best to swim into his waiting arms; he grabbed her and delivered her to shore. I got a strong talking to by my husband.

The situation ended without great alarm but it certainly could have gone another way.

Ever feel like you’re doing more than holding on? Like squeezing someone’s hand so tightly that you’re cutting off his (the) circulation. Like treading water in a deep ocean for longer than you’d like. Your alternative would be to give up and simply drown, but you’ve got some fighting spirit in your veins. The lifeguard is in site but he sure is taking his time. And hello?! Questioning why he is taking his sweet time doesn’t help—he knows the water is deep and you have no option but to cling to the hope that help is about to show up.

We are all faced with moves/changes in our lifetime. It’s not fun, it’s not easy, and it doesn’t happen instantaneously because a magical elf shows up and does all the work. Today I don’t have much more to tell you than this.

Hold on. Persevere. Launch out into the deep. And don’t be afraid to follow the sand bar…but don’t be surprised if you’re thrown a little off course and need some extra help reaching your destination.

The day on the beach was worth the hassle and ended with many laughs and sand in places we never intended. Trust me. It takes a lot more than a few rough seas to throw us completely off course.

Now excuse me while I get back to packing. There’s an adventure out there and I don’t want to miss it!

A Beautiful Eternity

A friend of mine passed away suddenly yesterday. It doesn’t make today feel very beautiful. But she sure was.

When Regi and I lived on Long Island between 1993 and 1996, she was my husband’s assistant. This sums it up: she assisted anyone with anything they could ever possibly need. And somewhere between filing, arranging, phone calls, and ordering bagels, we became friends. Though many knew her better, I am honored to have known her like I did.

I remember when she invited us into her home and served us lunch at the massive dinner table with all those kids staring at us (seven in all). There was plenty of laughter that day, and every other day for that matter. …

Are You Thankful For a Beautiful Rear?

Do yourself a favor and get to know Teasi Cannon. The truth is I don’t know her that well except for a FB message here and there. Remember when I said you don’t have to share coffee and bagels to consider someone a friend? Still true!

Teasi speaks frequently at the women’s Bible study at my church and she spoke on that dreaded women’s retreat (see Women, Chocolate and Kleenex: Why Retreats Scare Me). She is the real deal; I would never waste your time with someone that wasn’t. I love how she adds just the right amount of humor as she takes you down the road of pain she traveled for years. She isn’t afraid to laugh with you,

You Can’t Have Children…part 4

Finally my husband lets me have a say! This is part 4 of part of the story of how our precious daughter, Sophia, came into our lives. You really should read parts 1-3 first. You can find them here under the Category “Life” or by searching for its tag with Adoption, Regi, Sophia or You Can’t Have Children. While you’re here, feel free to check out my husband’s blog at www.RegiStone.com. I think you’ll like what he shares. 

The phone call from Regi came out of nowhere. I was in the bathroom putting make-up on to go to my job selling make-up. Life was miserable. And I sure didn’t want to hear my cheery husband calling from an exotic location …

You Can’t Have Children…part 3

This is Part 3 of You Can’t Have Children. Make sure you’ve read Part 1 & 2 before you continue.

As we sat in the parking lot, I could hear my heart pounding against my chest. My mind was racing. I wondered if I’d be cool enough. I was afraid my accomplishments wouldn’t measure up. I felt inadequate. Then a car pulled up 3 spaces over. A young couple appeared. Hesitant. Half smiles. With obvious apprehension. Table for 4 please. And there we were face to face sipping our cold soda’s when the birth mom quietly brought out a small pad of paper and pen and started asking questions. I answered until she seemed satisfied. The birth father hadn’t said …

You Can’t Have Children…part 2

Before you read this make sure you’ve read Part One so you get the whole story.

I arrived late on a Saturday afternoon, nervous but ready for the days ahead. Sunday morning went well and after lunch I invited some friends to the evening service. They came and brought a couple with a little baby. When I was introduced to their friends, I commented that their baby was cute. They thanked me and said they had just adopted him a couple months earlier. The next evening a gentleman purchased my CD and asked if I’d sign it. There’s a first time for everything. He gave me two names to address the CD to. I’m not sure why. but I asked

You Can’t Have Children…part 1

This is part 1 of a blog my husband posted on his site at www.RegiStone.com. You really ought to check his stuff out while before going any further! He has shared this story on his travels over the last 14 years so he tried to condense it and this is what he came up with. One day, we’ll capture it all in a tiny little book that you can read, share and eventually use as a paper weight. 

Some years ago we found out we couldn’t have children. That was tough to hear. And living with that reality was even harder. We thought the first Laparoscopy would take care of everything. Then the second. And yet a third. Have you