Fathers

Several years ago, I heard about this experiment by a man named Frank Warren who wanted to see what secrets people would share if the identity of the person was not given away. He created an organization called, "Postsecret" where people could send their secrets in to him on a postcard and he would publish them. I frequented the site and would find the books whenever I went to the library or a local book store. I remember sitting on the floor of a bookstore for nearly an hour just flipping through the books. Some were quite eye-opening (to say the least), some really blew me away....and still others, hit home more than I'd like to admit.

The other night, I went to the site and found that the theme of this week's post was on Fathers. I would assume that with Father's Day right around the corner, Frank Warren found it to be an appropriate time to post these secrets.

Several of the cards were amazing....thanking his/her Father for being there...and for creating a great childhood for the writer. Sadly, though, a majority of the cards were of deep, intense heartache and wounds that were created by the father....

questions....

longings....

sadness....

disgust....

anger....

My heart began to feel the pain of the writer....and I instantly began to feel that intense, gut-wrenching pain that can overtake you when you visit a place of deep agony.



My parents were never married. Two teenagers...in love....who quickly broke up when I was too young to remember anything else. My Dad was just a teenager. He was a broken kid who had been used and abused his whole life (trust me....this is NO exaggeration) and he already had two kids before me. Trying to navigate through his life of crime and addiction was a hard enough job without trying to take care of children and the women who mothered them.

Growing up, though, I never took any of that into consideration. I wanted a DAD. I wanted a DADDY. I wanted a FATHER. I wanted a MAN who would stand up for me, kiss my boo-boos, send me to bed without dinner if necessary, and whose eyes would dance when they met mine. I sit here with a lump in my throat, as do so many others around me...and around the world. I realize that my pain is not isolated to only me and that having little pity parties that center around me are ridiculous and uncalled for because so many little girls.....little boys....big girls...and big boys....are longing for a man to step up to the plate.


Sadly, the absence of father's in our lives have created great hardships....

many insecurities....

many pains that have yet to heal because the void is so big...

so vast...

and so........ empty.


I look at the best Father I've ever seen; my husband. The love in his eyes when he looks at our dear son....and the way his eyes dance when he looks into those of our baby girl and I look on with deep admiration and joy. I am reminded now that God looks up on His children this way yet it's hard to see sometimes because I'm still hiding in that place of deep longing....desiring something deeper....and hoping that one day, my Dad will ....still ....come ....around.

For some, Dad is gone. He hit the road and never looked back. For others, he is so wrapped up in his iPad or his cell phone or his laptop or his notes or his books or his meetings or his travels or God or his dreams or his failures or his toys that he fails to see the wide-eyed little girl or boy just begging for his attention. For some, Daddy died. He wanted to stay, but something tragic happened and he is now gone. For others, Dad never knew how to be a dad because he was too busy licking his own wounds from childhood, still trying to figure out who he was in the midst of the muddle. Or maybe Dad wants to be involved but Mom is keeping him away....out of revenge.....and his own heart breaks.


Being a Father this day and age is a tough responsibility but it is oh so needed. Bear hugs and wrestling and kisses on the cheek or head or lips....snuggles....words of praise and affirmation...singing and dancing and and structure and tucking them into bed and making meals for them and enjoying the things they enjoy whether it bores the crap out of you or not and maybe even acting like a complete idiot because the world is beautiful because your kids are.in.it.

and if your children are older, a phone call, a hand-written note, an email, a huge hug or kiss on the head or cheek, words of affirmation and praise, support, a shoulder to cry on, arms to hold them, and just plain 'ole showing up.....remembering birthdays and anniversaries and the things your children enjoy and enjoying life with them because the world is beautiful because your kids (no matter how big) are.in.it.

We just need dads to show up.

There are wounded children, teenagers, and adults all around us who need(ed) a Daddy to just try to be a Daddy. They don't always nail it (whatever it is) but the willingness to put themselves out there and try to be a Daddy is the most powerful thing a man can do.

"My father didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it." -- Clarence Budington Kelland

Water.

I remember walking out to our porch on East Jefferson Street late morning on June 7, 2008 and with tears streaming down my face and my voice as loud as it could get, begging God to send the water elsewhere. "There are people in Africa who need the water!! PLEASE send it THERE!!!"

I turned around and saw my four year old son peering out the front door of our 1890's house with a confused look on his face. Mommy had just told him that it would be okay....but her actions just showed otherwise.

Exactly three years ago from this very second, I was standing (maybe sitting) at the end of the street, waiting for the flood waters of our home to recede. Greg and I were guarding the area as all of the police officers were dealing with their own woes (the police department and many of the cars had been washed away). We kept a watchful eye out for the creepy guy trying to break into houses across the street. I screamed and yelled at two teenage boys earlier that day who were wading through the water and trying to enter a local gift shop. I was angry. I took it out on them. Later that day, I told two other boys that there were all kinds of creepy snakes in the water and that they should probably get out. Greg and I still laugh about that to this day....

and tonight, three years later, I am sitting in the comfort of my new home, listening to the whir of the fan and the heavy breathing of my sleeping husband, while my son and daughter are asleep in the other room. I have clothes in my closet, food in the pantry, and a calmness inside of me that trumps all of the sad feelings I have from the day the flood destroyed our home and left us homeless.


You see...through the chaos and the hardship the flood has caused, it has also given me great hope. I'll admit that the flood was one of the most difficult things I've ever had to endure. I lost some things that meant a great deal to me....like hand-written letters from my biological father (telling me the very things a girl really needs to hear...), my guitar (received as a gift from my Husband who wanted to encourage my guitar playing....), pictures (oh....pictures....), important documents (like birth certificates and our marriage certificate--that i still have but smells terrible from the fuel oil), my hope chest, and various other things that I had become attached to. I still have memories embedded in my head of my son's toy room and the destruction of the things he valued most (at least the most a four year old can...), the humongous pile of items that were thrown on our curb for the trash men to pick up, the way the garage looked as if someone had picked it up and violently shaken it, the way everything looked after looters decided to have their hands on our house, and the really cool 1950's couch that we just loved and that allowed countless people to sleep on (we took in several teenagers throughout our youth ministry stint), sit on (during mentorship sessions and Bible studies)...and I remember that very couch being thrown on the curb after being destroyed by 'black water' from the flood. that broke my heart.

But...

I also remember people. coming to our rescue. showing up. hauling. crying.hugging. washing. cooking. buying. blessing. pouring into our lives.

and i sit here with tears welled up in my eyes...because God is big. And He met us where we needed Him most. He met us that day when I collapsed to the ground because there was a flippin' HUGE hole in our foundation...and He met us the night we snuck in to our house to assess the damage, and He met us when I freaked out because the rain returned two weeks later and began to flood our yard again....and He met me when I met with FEMA and IDEM and the Fire Station and the Daily Journal and the Health Department and neighbors and the Planning Department and the Town Meetings and the Salvation Army and he met me the day the guy from the Mortgage Company told me that I needed to get a 'real' job to pay for our mortgage and the countless times I had to remind the mortgage company that our house had been destroyed and the times I just wanted to break down and cry and tell anyone who would listen that I was quiet...or stand-offish or a little on edge because my world had fallen apart!......the list goes on and on. But most importantly, He showed me that His strength is all I need.....

I have found through the sorrow, there's a comfort from within...through the pain, there's a healing that takes place, and that joy does come.

So tonight, I continue to allow myself to grieve over a tremendous loss, but I thank the Lord that He wasn't surprised or caught off guard by the flood....that He knew it would happen and that He continues to work in me, work in my marriage, reveal things to me from this traumatic event, and that even in the midst of chaos, His love continues to win me over.

"The LORD sits enthroned over the flood; the LORD is enthroned as King forever" Psalm 29:10

Written in June of 2008

Last Friday night (June 6), we heard that bad storms were moving in, so during LINK (youth group event), we would walk outside to see where the clouds were and how fast they were moving. It rained off and on while we were there, but the real rain didn’t start pouring until after we went to sleep. It rained non-stop all evening….and according to later reports, we found that we received 11 inches of rain!

The following morning, Greg and his crew were supposed to meet at our house at 8am and were to head off to a job in Seymour, Indiana. Greg woke me up a little after 8am and I was a little confused since he was still home. He told me that it had rained all night and that it was beginning to flood pretty badly. He told me that cars had already been stalled in the water and had had to be pulled out of the water by the fire department and that some cars were being washed away. I jumped out of bed, a little startled, and went to the front of the house, unable to believe my eyes. The water was flooding the streets and the police had already barricaded our street. Some cars turned around when they approached the barricades, yet many people thought they could move past the barricade and ‘beat’ the standing waters. Little did they know, the water was much deeper the further they went toward the bridge. Our neighbor, Dwayne, was on his porch, daring the cars to go further….and at first, we all found it to be a little comical. “What are these people doing and who do they think they are?!?” I wondered….and then you’d see them attempt to go through the water and not make it….cars were stalling….some were turning around….and others were barely creeping through probably causing damage to their vehicles. I made breakfast for our family and then went back out on the porch to watch the disaster unfold. As I saw car after car cross through the barricade and the water continue to rise, I became more and more afraid. As cars were approaching my house, I would signal for them to turn around. Some would look at me and then turn off on the next street, while others ignored my warnings. While all of this was happening, Greg was making phone calls to his crew members to stay where they were, urging them not to go outside and not to drive in the water. Luckily, each person was safe and sound in a home of their own or another crew member. Greg called the camp where they were supposed to work and told them that our town was unsafe to enter and to leave and that they would have to push everything back several hours until the waters drained a little more. The camp was understanding.

The rain continued to rush down harder and harder and I stood on the front porch, continuing to watch foolish people drive past the barricade and my goofy neighbor usher them on. I would see Greg going outside, watching the waters (Gregory means ‘vigilant watchman”) and he would come in to update me on the status of our backyard. Behind our yard is a small creek—250 feet away and then you go up 4 feet to our concrete patio. You walk another 20-25 feet to reach our back deck and then you walk up another 5 or 6 stairs (this is about 4 feet up in height) to our home, so our house is raised up pretty high from the ground. The waters were up to the concrete patio and continuing to rise. Greg urged me to pack our bags, so I ran upstairs and immediately began packing Josiah’s and my clothes. Greg told me that once the water hit the top of the concrete patio, we would be evacuating the home. I immediately began to feel fearful as I saw the waters continue to rise. Luckily, my Watchman thought ahead to move all of our vehicles to high ground so they wouldn’t be ruined and I am SO glad he did. He saved every vehicle!

About 20 minutes later, Greg came rushing in and he immediately went to the basement to grab some items that were of value to him; mostly camping equipment that his aunt and uncle had just given to us, as well as caving equipment. He brought the bins up and sat them in our hallway. He went back outside and within minutes, came in and asked me how close I was. He said that the water was above the concrete patio and it was time to go. He later told me that it was as if a dam had broken and the water rushed up the patio and immediately hit the deck!

I grabbed my backpack and Josiah’s stuff and grabbed my cell phone to call Anessa (for those of you who don’t know, Anessa Bruno, was living with us and wasn’t there the night before. She had spent the night with the sister of a fellow crew member.) I asked her what she needed me to bring with me and then I grabbed it, along with another suitcase and we headed to the front porch. By the time we headed to the porch and landed on our sidewalk, the water was mid-thigh. I looked across the street at a neighbor who was just sitting on her porch, watching us and I wondered why she looked so calm…and why she, too, wasn’t leaving yet. We had already seen a woman evacuate her home a couple of houses down and it was our turn. We walked down the side walk, wading through thigh-high water….Josiah being held by Greg, in addition to Josiah’s suitcase and two other bags of clothing….and I had my backpack and Anessa’s belongings. We waded through the water for the length of several homes and then made it to higher ground where we found our cars waiting for us. We got in the car and weren’t quite sure what to do or where to go. We were hungry and afraid. We called the Toombs’ home and luckily they answered and said that we could go there. The hard part was finding a way out of Franklin. All of the bridges were being blocked off by police officers because the waters were so high, they were overflowing to the tops of the bridges. Luckily, Greg remembered a road in the back of Franklin College and it worked! We had to go pretty slowly on certain areas, but we made it to the interstate and headed north. We found lunch and then headed to the Toombs’ home. We even ran into problems up north with all of the flooding and had to find detours through Southport in order to make it to their home in one piece. Upon arriving, we ate lunch while watching the news. The news coverage was awful and didn’t cover anything in Franklin. Greg and I became too antsy and anxious and decided to head south towards Franklin again, despite the warnings that the town of Franklin had been blocked from leaving or entering. We knew Josiah would be safe with the Toombs family, so we headed to Franklin in hopes of seeing our home.

We’re pretty smart. We found a really good way in….the way we left! And we parked in the Franklin College parking lot. The only way to avoid walking through the flooded waters was to walk on top of the railroad tracks, so we jumped on top of them. I was so afraid….so anxious to see our home….and I began to run down the tracks. I turned the corner to find our other two vehicles (Greg’s work truck and his personal vehicle) safe and dry but what I saw beyond that will probably never leave my mind. The gas station that is four buildings down and on higher ground had extremely high waters….so high that most of the trash cans next to the gas pumps were completely covered. I ran to the end of the street and saw my home. The sadness I felt, I can’t explain. The tree in front of our home was covered in at least six feet of water and our home was immersed. The current of the creek was so intense…it looked like someone had taken a violent river and placed homes in the middle of it. I won’t describe how emotional I got….i’m sure you can imagine.

The next few hours were torment. The waters were going down too slow and we were trying to wade through waters in an attempt to get closer to the home to see the damage but it was impossible. The current was too strong and the waters too deep. We had no idea what was in the water nor did we know if electric was still on in those areas, which could result in our electrocution. So…we played the waiting game. We watched teenage boys play in the water in front of our house….that’s another story in itself on how I reacted to that….ask me if you really want to know….and people would go in canoes to their homes to try to save personal belongings that they thought they might be able to. It really didn’t work, though, because most of the water damage was done.

The strange thing is that the electricity NEVER went out in any of the homes surrounding us or in ours. Our entire breaker was submerged in water and it never turned off. We even saw a small local restaurant which is caddy-cornered from our house that had a small window air conditioner….the water was completely covering the air conditioner and it was STILL running!!

Greg and I stayed in Franklin til roughly 2:45am. We attempted to enter the water towards our home around midnight, but the current was still too strong and the water too high, so we waited. Because the water was going down approximately 6 inches an hour, we waited another hour. We then attempted to go in one more time. With flashlight in hand and his wife holding on to his back, my Watchman led the way to our home. We entered on the west side of the home, which was really a great thing (I’ll explain why later) and when we got to the door, Greg unlocked it and pushed the door open. We refused to enter at first because we heard a very strange sound…it sounded like Josiah’s battery operated toys were dying…and it was the freakiest sound. With our hearts pounding and our feet touching the ground very carefully, we entered the disaster. The noise was the ADT alarm system we have, responding to the opening of the door, so it wasn’t that big of a deal. The problems that we immediately saw and smelled were a kerosene-like smell that was SO strong, it made us have headaches….everything was thrown around the house, everything was obviously soaken wet, Josiah’s toys from his toy room were displaced into the kitchen and strewn throughout the house and it looked like brown paint was all over the floor. It was extremely slippery (in addition to the flip flops on my feet). We didn’t stay long….only enough to assess the damage and then we headed back. At first, I was okay….realizing that water can be ‘beaten’ with water yet not understanding the gas smell. We then went back to the Toombs’ house where we found Diane on the floor with Josiah….what an amazing woman….! She stayed up with him all day and night and as he struggled to go to sleep, she slept with him on a pallet on the floor. She could smell us as we entered her house because the smell was overwhelming….and what WAS it?

The next day we awoke and put on our game faces. Greg’s dad arrived and he and Greg and I headed to the house. It looked like war had taken place in our town. We pulled in the driveway and I walked over to the side of the house to find that our foundation had caved in. It was there that I lost it….it is approximately 8 feet long and 64 inches wide….and the gassy smell was emitting from the basement. Our neighbor called the fire department while I just kneeled down on the ground and wept. Water damage is one thing…foundation damage is another. My father-in-law did his best to console me until the fire department came. They told us that the smell emitting from our home is an old fuel oil tank that had leaked or burst and that it had gone into the water, contaminating our home, the soil around it and possibly countless other places, including water lines and possibly our neighbors’ homes, as well. When I explained that it was a good thing that we entered the home from the west side of the home….had we entered from the east side, one or both of us could have fallen into the hole of the foundation the night before and could have really been injured. It was so good that Greg had us enter from the west. Another great decision on his part!!

I really didn’t understand it all and am still struggling to understand the impact of fuel oil as I read online articles and various documents on the impact of fuel oil on your home, your belongings, and the soil surrounding your home, in addition to the air you breathe and various other issues.

After dealing with some immediate issues, I went in to the house to begin salvaging everything we could from upstairs. We had a girl, Ashley, an old friend of mine, come to help, so she helped go through some of the items. This day was spent packing up what wasn’t affected by the water and trying to salvage what was and discard the things that couldn’t be saved. According to the Johnson County Emergency Management, our home is considered an environmental hazard and we have been placed on the top of the priority list for FEMA once they start dealing with the residential component of this disaster. As of today, FEMA has not made themselves known to the public and we are all sitting around waiting for them to arrive to meet with the homeowners in order to assess the damage and move forward. Based on what I’ve heard from various people, this could take weeks before occurring. This is why our home is emptied and we are moving forward on trying to find housing and trying to apply for as much help as we can get.

In a nutshell, our garage was completely damaged. This contained all of Greg’s business supplies and some equipment, all of our lawn equipment (including shears, weed control stuff, etc), my old trophies (this was a big bummer when I just found them two days ago), old file cabinets, old equipment from Greg’s auto detailing shop, tools, etc.

Our basement was entirely destroyed. This contained many of Greg’s personal items, such as an antique guitar, computer equipment, a refrigerator, foosball table, a brand new water heater, all of his caving equipment (head lamps (8 or 9), helmets, etc….a sword he had gotten that was very special to him, Josiah’s life jacket, etc.

Our first floor had water approximately 2.5 feet deep. Everything that was touched by the water directly has been destroyed. We lost everything in the bathroom (brand new shower curtain, rugs, everything in the lower cabinets), all of our bath towels and wash rags. The only thing that made it in our bathroom were some personal items in a tall cabinet. The kitchen lost a lot: brand new refrigerator, our stove, kitchen table and chairs, everything in the lower cabinets (platters, pots and pans, all cleaning supplies, crock pots, casserole dishes, mixing bowls, hand mixer, blender, chopper, etc), pantry contents (food, card table and chairs, josiah’s card table and chairs, family sized griddle, etc), white cabinet holding important documents.

Family room lost a couch (the MOST comfortable couch in the world), everything on the bottom two shelves of the bookshelf, save for the items my friends were able to salvage, a buffet that was refurbished (and all contents in the bottom two drawers), the carpet in that room, and some pillows and suitcases that we had tried to pack but needed to leave in order to get out of the house.

Guest bedroom: my hope chest, a 5×5 canvas, a treadmill, a LOT of blankets, two brand new sleeping bags, my guitar and case, craft items, Anessa’s clothing and shoes, my worship binder and guitar books, and various items in the closet.

Hall: rug and possibly 50 freeset bags for the women of Stewart Cooperative. We are desperately trying to save these. The special camping equipment that Greg tried to save didn’t make it, either, which is really disappointing….

Josiah’s toy room: Only one bucket of toys so far has made it. Everything else has been destroyed.

Front room: large tv, DVD player, large overstuff couch and chair, two tables, multiple blankets (including Josiah’s embroidered baby blanket), shag rug, PS2, surround sound system, small heater for the room, small tables to eat at, and leather footstool….multiple movies belonging to Josiah were ruined. Sharise Toombs surprised him today with a new movie “Cars” and he was really excited!

Mud room: our brand new, custom made family locker (we’re trying to salvage it, but I don’t think it’s going to make it), all of our shoes, rugs, my Young Lungs equipment I use to teach the program, many painting supplies, a booster seat of Josiah’s (for travel), and various small items that were hanging on the locker, like jackets.

The upstairs has a lot of items that were saved but the problems arose when the smell of the fuel oil arose into the second floor. Some women have washed the clothes 6 or 7 times to get the smell out….some have been successful and some not.

I went to the home yesterday to find the back door wide open and fresh footprints throughout the house. It appears that someone had broken in to take a look around to find something to steal. There were mud prints smeared on the side of the house, looking as if someone had climbed in through the window and used the side of the house as leverage to get it. Anyone looking around would find nothing to salvage. Anything left in the home is ruined. Yesterday was not a good day for me.

Although much of this email seems sad because of the loss, I must say that the overwhelming love that has poured out from our friends and family has left me speechless. We had nearly 20 people at our home on Sunday; some we had never even met before, packing up our things, weeding through fuel oil, trying to save anything of mine that meant something….women on ‘picture’ and ‘scrapbook’ duty to save my special things….men carrying furniture and packing up a trailer that was loaned to us….and then at the church, there were many people there to pick up what we had packed, wash them, and pack them in the church lodge. From the gift cards and money to the time and energy spent on washing my clothes and organizing my personal stuff to flying in from California just to make sure I’m ‘okay’….I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Thank you to each and every one of you who have called, written, prayed, donated, helped, washed, scrubbed, lifted, organized, taken special care of bikes, and special toys for my son, emailed, and shown the Huffman’s and Anessa what we mean to you. I am honored. truly honored.

At this time, I go through cycles of emotion ranging from autopilot (this is when I speak with most of you and I seem okay) to sadness to disgust to anger….I still feel extremely vulnerable on all levels and because there is no one to direct my anger towards, I cycle through that emotion quickly. I find myself the most upset when I find that people have rummaged through my lost belongings or broken into my home….or over the loss of very sentimental, important things that can never be replaced. I find comfort in the laughter of my son, yet I find despair in his cries to ‘go home.’ I find comfort in the emails reminding me of God’s great love for me, yet I go through moments where I feel very, very alone. I find comfort in the memory of watching my Husband fulfill his duties of “Watchman” and Protector and find sadness when there were circumstances beyond even his control. I am overjoyed when friends call or write or show up with money and gift cards and wonder why I don’t hear a thing from those I expected the most from.

I know that God has not left us. I know that He loves us with deep, passionate, intense love, impossible for any of us to understand. I am still a believer of this. I believe that the road ahead is going to be hard as we face insurance battles, work with FEMA, and struggle to replace lost personal belongings. We are a family unit of three, yet we accepted Anessa into our home, so as far as we’re concerned, she is a victim of this flood just as we are and we are counting this a very big loss for her, as well.

As a side note, people keep asking about our insurance coverage, so I’ll briefly explain: There are approximately 9 levels of flood insurance, all with different coverage clauses. Our insurance coverage is very minimal: $30,000 for structural damage ONLY. This only includes the foundation and any structural issues; this does not include dry wall or flooring or cabinets or anything of that nature. Back in the 1950′s, our home experienced a flood and the home was raised four feet higher as a result. No one expected a flood to do what it did….this was considered the 100 year flood we hear so much about. We figured we’d be okay. Home owners insurance doesn’t cover anything related to a flood, therefore, this is not an option, either. Our only hope is that FEMA steps in and helps us with our home. We aren’t even sure at this point if we have a desire to return with the fuel oil and the damage it has caused. The smell is overwhelming and based on the research I’ve done, has carcinogenic possibilities and other issues that we could face if the issue is not resolved properly.

People keep asking what we need and at this point, our immediate needs are taken care of. We are living in the basement of the Toombs’ home, are eating and eating well (Diane sure can cook!) and the business is still trying to function despite the loss of a big day last Saturday. Most of our clothing has been saved, although Greg and I are still very limited on shoes.

Here are the basic needs that we foresee:

I still have to go through our belongings that are being held at our church lodge in Indy to find out what is salvageable and what isn’t.

• Greg lost many work shirts (they were in the dryer) and needs to have those replaced sometime soon. A Dick’s Sporting Goods card would be good to help replace those (as well as for his shoes).
• As we transition into another place to live (it looks like an apartment), we will need furniture (we have NONE except for bedroom furniture), so money might help replace those. Gift cards would help for Wal-mart or Target and it is my understanding that some friends are setting up an account for us for people to donate money on our behalf—aren’t people amazing?!?
• Anessa loves to get her clothes from Thrift stores so any thrift store gift cards would be good (Goodwill or Value World).

There will be more things to come….but until FEMA and the insurance adjuster show up, it will just be a matter of waiting, going through things, mourning over what is lost, and looking ahead to what is in the future.

I know this is long….but this is our story. Thanks for reading.

Grace and Peace to you,
Nicki Huffman

My Princess

Tomorrow, June 6th, marks a very important day for me.



It's the day I became a Mom...

of a girl.
(as I write this---say this---tears well up in my eyes, my head cocks to the side, and a grin immediately takes over my face)

I remember the day I found out I was pregnant. Whew. What a whirlwind of emotion that day held! Our family had just lost our home in the flood and the life we were living was one of survival. It was a very tough life we were living. It really was.

And a pregnancy....a baby!....is not what I had anticipated at that time. But as time rolled by, I became more and more excited to meet this little one growing inside of me.

I had a feeling from the beginning that I would be giving birth to a baby girl, but it wasn't until the Ultrasound Tech told us the news (she told Greg she was 99.9% sure he could go and buy PINK!), were we completely confident. I remember tears streaming down my face...I so desperately wanted a girl.

There were times of deep doubt for me as the next month or two rolled around. I wasn't sure if I could be a good Mommy to a girl. I mean...I'm a tomboy...I rarely paint my nails...I like to dive after softballs in the field...how in the world could I teach a little girl to be.....girly?!!?

Thankfully, that has come about pretty easily as I have discovered that I can teach my little one how to approach insects and bugs with care and prance around the house with a dress on and her nails painted. I am enjoying each and every stage of her life and the joy it brings. Our family wouldn't be the same if it weren't for the little spunky, blonde-haired girl who sings, "We are the Champions" (at the top of her lungs, mind you), enjoys watching "Tangled" and "Toy Story" and who, at the drop of a hat, will collapse in my lap, saying, "nummy." I enjoy eating brownies, singing "I love you, a bushel and a peck," taking baths, making pancakes, snuggling, cooking, dancing, looking for bugs, reading, praying, drawing, running, laughing, and enjoying life with her.

Let me tell you that the last two years have brought more joy in my life as I watch my son be a phenomenal big brother, my Husband come alive when he looks into the gorgeous blue eyes of our princess, and the way my heart bursts with joy when I share moments with her that no one else can share.

Without going into it too much, let's just say that God has done a lot of redeeming in my life and He has used a beautiful, precious baby girl to bring it to light. I am honored to be her Mommy and to be a woman who she can look up to and possibly admire someday. She has passion, spunk, and a fire in her eyes that is unmatchable...and I get to shepherd her, guide her, and teach her about the One who loves her more than she'll ever understand.

I don't take this responsibility lightly, either. I take it one breath, one step, one minute, one day at a time, savoring each and every moment I get to spend with my precious, Samara {hebrew for 'protected by God'} and believing that God has and is redeeming my story with this amazing gift

Happy birthday, Samara Nickole Huffman.

i ♥ you.

Fear has no place here.

When a family goes through something very traumatic, it really can take a lot of time to recover from the event if one fully recovers at all. One might think he or she is over it, but then something happens that instantly transports the person back to the event...and fear tends to creep in often unnoticed.

Three years ago, our family lost our home in a flood that rampaged through Franklin, Indiana, and other counties throughout the state. The events of that day will never escape my mind and apparently, they won't escape the mind of my now seven year old boy. My son was 4 years old at the time of the flood. While many facts are unknown to him about the day of the flood, there are still enough memories from the day that cause fear for him whenever threatening weather occurs.

This, as you can imagine, is very difficult as the recent weather has provided nothing but one scare after the other. I, too, continue to work through issues with excessive rain, so Josiah and I are (without his knowledge) working through this together.

There are two things that we discuss whenever this fear tries to strangle him.

first------------------------------------Fear has no place here.

If you follow me on facebook and you see this as my status update, this is an indication that something big is going on....something that requires bravery and courage and this is a reminder to myself and others that fear has no place in our lives.

NO place.

secondly-------"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and a sound mind."

we have to remind ourselves that God isn't the provoker of fear. Fear is not of Him. Fear is a measly attempt to hold us back...to allow doubt to creep in....to discourage us...to strangle and paralyze us.



My boy is afraid of the wind when it tears through our yard or causes things to move from their original state. He is afraid of the lightning...the thunder....the hail...and even the rain. Many children are afraid of these very things, so I know that my son's fear and anxieties are not isolated and his fear is shared by many. I do, however, want him to come to a place where he trusts that his parents are not going to let him down...or deceive him....or lie to him about the weather just to calm him down. I want him to look the storm in the eye and tell it: FEAR has no place here. I want him to be brave...courageous....bold....and confident that regardless of what the wind moves or the lightning strikes or the hail dents or the rain drenches....he will be okay.

Fear has no place here because God has not given it to us. He has given us power, love, and a sound mind.

those...

have a place here.

power.

love.

sound mind.

Those have a place here.