INSPIRING WOMAN {Janna Davidson}

This months inspiring woman is Janna! She is going through something that seems unbearable and yet every time I have been around her she is always smiling. She is truly one of the most positive people I have ever met. She is fighting a battle that is bigger than herself and she fights it for those around her. For her children, her husband, her family and friends. She won't give up and that is truly inspiring in itself. 

Here is her story...

I have always been a firm believer that Heavenly Father would never give me more than I could handle. I believed that until last fall. 

October 5th, 2015 my life changed forever. I found a lump in my abdomen. It wasn't painful and I wasn't worried. I work at an OBGYN clinic so I had my doctor check it out. He thought it was just a large ovarian cyst. Who knows how long I would've waited to go into the doctor had I not worked there. He did an ultrasound the same day and clarified that it was a large solid mass. I got a CT scan and was told it was a 16 cm ovarian tumor. It was large. I was referred to an OBGYN oncologist at St. Marks hospital a few days later. She was amazing and calmed my nerves. We were told best case scenario, she would remove the tumor and it would be benign. Worst case scenario, it would be cancerous and we would take it from there. 

I had surgery on October 15, 2015 to get the tumor removed. I was calm and joked with everyone we came in contact with. We had named the tumor Dwight because he was about the size of a small baby. I reminded everyone that I wanted a picture of the tumor that was making me look 6 months pregnant. I was sure the tumor was benign and I would be okay. There was no way the Lord would give me more than I could handle and I knew I couldn't handle a cancer diagnosis. 

My surgery was longer than expected. The OBGYN surgeon got in there and removed the ovary that had been over taken by the tumor and saw something she never expected. She called in a colon/rectal surgeon to help her beyond this point. They found cancer. They found a lot of cancer. They removed part of my large intestine, my appendix, ascending colon, along with my left ovary, uterus, fallopian tubes, and biopsied 15 lymph nodes. The tumor had also grown to 20 cm in less than 10 days. My surgeon was so focused on the cancer she found that she never took a picture of Dwight, but she told me she did spank him. 

I woke up to the news that I had cancer but it wasn't ovarian cancer. After pathology came back it was officially diagnosed as stage 4 appendiceal adenocarcinoma - a rare and aggressive appendix cancer. This cancer is not curable. I will be on chemo for the rest of my life. I was heartbroken. How could the Lord let me get cancer, let alone stage 4 and so rare. I knew as soon as I got the news that I wanted a blessing. So the night of my surgery, even though I was still super groggy, I had my husband get a hold of my uncle and aunt that live in Sandy and he came and gave me a blessing. My husband, brother and aunt were all there for the amazing blessing that was given. Through my uncle, the Lord told me that I was going to live a long and healthy life and that there was still much for me to do. Heavenly Father was in the room with us that night. Everyone in the room could feel the peace of his presence. I knew that everything was going to be okay. 

I was in the hospital healing for a week before they let me go home. I missed my kids horribly and couldn't wait to get home. I got home to family and friends who were already up and running with taking care of us. Meals started coming in, kids were being watched, and a fundraiser was in the works along with a gofundme account. The community rallied around or little family. I had never seen anything like it. The Lord knew what was around the corner and knew that we would be well taken care of. 

It was at this point that I began having nightly conversations with my Father in Heaven. I have always prayed, but I have never been a good listener. I started sincerely pouring my heart out nightly and throughout the day, more than once I got answers and peace. He knew my fears and desires and calmed His child. I didn't tell God how big my cancer is, I told cancer how big my God is. 

I met with my oncologist on November 2nd. He was exactly the type of doctor I needed. Once again Heavenly Father was watching out for me. We came up with a plan for chemo and started treatments towards the end of November. I didn't get a prognosis. I didn't want one. How often are doctors right anyway?! Best news of that visit was that I wasn't going to lose my hair. Cancer + Chemo= bald heads. That is something I always believed. I was relieved there was a chemo that I could keep my hair while getting treatments. Heavenly Father knew I needed to keep my hair. 

Round 2 of chemo was the beginning of December and I got pretty sick. I couldn't keep anything down and everything I ate made me double over in pain. I was at the cancer center everyday for fluids and labs. I never thought chemo would make me that sick. I was mad. How could this be happening? Heavenly Father had told me I would live a long and healthy life but how could I when chemo was making me this sick. I felt like this was more than I could handle. Then my friend sent me an article about how the Lord will give us more than we can handle. That is the time that He carries us. He asks us to carry all that we can and He will carry the rest of the load. I was finally starting to understand. Come to find out it was most likely a virus and not the chemo that was making me so sick. I finally started to feel better the beginning of January. 

I got 6 rounds of the first chemo when we did another PET scan and were told that the cancer was growing and the chemo wasn't working. We started a second type of chemo that had the dreaded side effect of hair loss. It took me a really long time to come to terms with losing my hair. I felt like my hair defined me. I wasn't going to let chemo take my hair from me, it was going to be on my terms so I decided we needed to have a hair shaving party!! We had a BBQ and a piñata!! What's a party without a piñata?! That made the initial shock of losing my hair not so bad because everyone around me was bald. Friends and family both joined in the shaving and we had quite the pile of hair when all was said and done. It was when everyone's hair started growing back in that it got hard. I felt very vulnerable having no hair. Everyone can tell you that you look beautiful but if you don't believe it yourself, no one can make you feel beautiful. I was doing relatively fine until my eyelashes and eyebrows fell out. I looked like an alien. I hated looking in the mirror before I penciled eyebrows back on. I am just now feeling good enough about myself to go out of the house without a wig but not with out eyebrows. 

After 10 rounds of the new chemo, I started to feel something wasn't right. I talked to the PA at the cancer center and we got another PET scan. Sure enough, the cancer was growing again. One thing about this cancer is it is as stubborn as I am. 

I have had 20 rounds of chemo and have just started my third type. It is called FULFIRI (full furry) and it better work as good as it's name. I feel good about this chemo. I go in every other week for IV infusion and then leave with a chemo pump that is hooked up to my port that pumps chemo into my system for 46 hours. I get to wear an awesome IHC fanny pack with the pump in it. The side effects aren't awesome with this one but on a good note, my hair is growing back in. 

I have grown so much over the past 9 months. My relationship with my Heavenly Father is stronger than ever. I know that He is aware of me. I have learned that there is nothing more important than the here and now. You never know when it's going to be your last day or the last day of someone you love. I hug my kids a little tighter and a little longer. Don't procrastinate letting those around you know how much you care about them. I have also learned that I have a huge support system. People I know and those I don't. There are good people in the world. We hear so much about the bad, and not enough about the good. I am so fortunate to have such amazing family and friends. Life is never what we expect it to be. I have learned that we just have to roll with the punches and rely on Heavenly Father and those around us to hold us up when we can no longer do it for ourselves. I don't know if I'll be around for driving, first dates, graduations, missions or weddings. I don't know if I'll ever meet my grand kids here on this earth. I do know that the Lord has a plan and it's going to be okay. Even if it's not okay, it's okay.

The Lord has given me more than I can handle and that's okay. 

INSPIRING WOMEN {Skye Longhurst}

This months inspiring woman is Skye...

Her testimony of God and His plan for each of us is undeniable. Her words have helped heal my heart and gave me hope that all will work out in the end. Skye is an amazing mama, wife, friend, and person. She is the first woman I have asked in person to share their story, her reaction to my question gave me an instant feeling of peace. I knew she was supposed be May's inspiring woman. She was so humble and so touched. It surprised me how surprised she was that I wanted her to share her story. She seriously has no idea how inspiring she really is. I am so grateful she was willing to share.  

Here is her story....

My name is Skye Longhurst. I’ve been married to the most wonderful man, Bracken for almost 11 years. We have four beautiful children we get to raise in this life, and two more who were only with us for a short time. Our two oldest children, Hayes and Kamri were relatively easy pregnancies. With Hayes I had some complications at first and learned I had a bicornuate uterus that makes me high risk for pre-term labor and placental abruption. The placenta did end up tearing at 38 weeks so he was delivered by C-section. Kamri’s pregnancy was smooth sailing until I was in the hospital, in labor, fully dilated and complete when the doctor checked me and the baby was breech. Kamri was delivered by C-section as well. Born 3 days before her due date, she was my largest baby at 8 lbs 13 oz. Although the complications at the time were scary, both of our children were healthy so we were not nervous when we decided to get pregnant with our third.

We moved to Las Vegas, NV when I was 14 weeks pregnant. Even though the decision to move had been done with a lot of prayer and I knew we were making the right choice, it was really hard for me. I often questioned why we had to leave a good job and a place and people we loved to move where we knew only a few people and Bracken would have no income because he was attending law school. One night, when I was 26 weeks along, I started bleeding. We called my dad’s cousin who was the only family we knew well in Las Vegas at the time. She came and stayed with our kids while we rushed to the hospital.

That night was full of a lot of pain and waiting. The specialist on call was trying to determine what was causing my bleeding and trying to get contractions to stop. They weren’t successful and my doctor came in (even though he wasn’t on call so the hospital never called him) and took over the situation. I’m not sure why it wasn’t obvious before that it was a placental abruption since I had that with Hayes and everything was pointing to it being the same. Our doctor sprang into action to help me deliver the baby, I pushed once, he gave me a numbing shot (which were super painful) then an episiotomy, (now grateful for the numbing shot) and I pushed once more. After one more push the doctor could see the baby’s face presentation was wrong and the baby’s heart rate was dipping. The baby’s little body couldn’t handle more stress so my doctor yelled for an emergency C-section. What happened next was a blur of movement, nurses throwing sheets, lifting me onto a wheeled bed, holding my arms and legs as they splashed me down with antiseptic solution. I was out in ten seconds as they rushed me down the hall. One minute pure panic, then nothing. Bracken was left alone in a room that looked like a crime scene, not knowing what would happen to me or our baby. Dane P was born Sunday, November 15, 2009 he was 2 lbs, 6 oz and 14 inches long.

Monday and Tuesday were full of visits to the NICU from my hospital room, updates from the nurses and doctors, and many visitors from people in our church and a couple we became friends with from law school. I was so grateful for every single visitor while Bracken was away at class. Most of them didn’t know me well but came and provided me comfort and a temporary distraction from all the stress. The doctors had told us that being born at 26 weeks Dane had an 80 % survival rate. It seemed like none of them were worried that he would die, just what minor setbacks we would have and what would be done to fix them. I was worried but truly felt peace from all the visitors, calls, text messages and prayers that were said on our behalf. Another tender mercy was one of the nurses who worked there was in my ward at church. I had only met her once before I got to the hospital, but she took care of me on one shift and made sure I had the best nurses for other shifts.

Wednesday morning the NICU called and the doctor wanted to meet with me and Bracken. A whole group of doctors and social workers came into our room and we knew it wouldn’t be good. We were given the news that ultimately our son wasn’t going to make it and we needed to prepare to say goodbye. The doctor was choking up as he told us the news, and I kept thinking that this can’t be real. One of those bad dreams. We talked to a second doctor the next morning and he unfortunately had the same conclusion.

Thursday night Bracken and I held our son for the first and last time. It was a tender mercy from our Heavenly Father that we were able to hold him as he passed away. It was the hardest thing, the worst thing, and yet the most amazing thing I had ever done. There is nothing to describe the mixture of utter heartbreak and complete peace that I felt. I know that my love is not perfect but the love I felt for Dane was so immense, I can only imagine how strong God’s perfect love is for all of us. As I sat there holding my baby as he took his last breaths, I was in despair but enveloped in pure love. November 19, 2009 was the day that cemented in my heart the importance and truth that families are eternal.

Two weeks later, I was sitting in church and we were singing hymn number 97, “Lead, Kindly Light.” The words struck me as I sang. The first sentence seemed to be my life the two weeks before, 'Lead, kindly Light, amid th'encircling gloom..' There were days that I still felt gloomy but when I would think about all Heavenly Father has blessed me with and the experience of holding Dane, I felt His Light carrying me on.

Besides having lost a baby, I also grieved over life not going as Bracken and I had planned. It had seemed perfect, Hayes and Kamri were 21 months apart and I loved it. Kamri and Dane were going to be 21 months apart and now we didn’t even get to have him with us. Why couldn't it just go like I had planned, 'I loved to choose and see my path; but now, Lead thou me on!' but I started to realize (oh so slowly) that Heavenly Father does know what he's doing, he does love us, and we need to sit back and realize how little we can really control that happens in our lives. But oh how much HE cares for everyone. And even if life doesn't go how we planned it, we'll be better for it because it goes how He planned it.

About 9 months after we had baby Dane we felt like it was time to get pregnant again. When I was about 20 weeks pregnant I was hit with a bout of anxiety. In some ways, I had been in denial that anything bad could happen again and I suddenly realized that one loss didn’t negate the possibility of another. I was frozen in our rocking chair with fear when I had a sudden small prompting to study hope. I grabbed my scriptures and studied everything I could find about hope. I was filled with a feeling of peace. Even if things didn’t work out again, I could be filled with hope, that through Jesus Christ’s atonement and temple covenants we could be an eternal family.

I ended up on full bedrest at 26 weeks, although not ideal, we were grateful to keep our baby in there cooking! This pregnancy humbled me. I’m a very independent person but being on bedrest I had to have help with our two older kids. Bracken went to law school full time and would come home and take over everything I usually did. People we barely knew brought us meals. For two weeks, friends and acquaintances took turns taking my kids for the day while Bracken was at school. Family took my kids for a week at a time and finally one of my cousin’s sacrificed two months of her life to come live with us and care for my kids. I don’t see many of them on a daily basis anymore but I think of them often. The love that so many people showed my family I will never forget.

Our beautiful baby girl, Lyla Hope, was born 6 weeks early in April 2011. She was 5 lbs 1oz. Even though she was in the NICU for two weeks, none of it was for life threatening reasons. Her calm demeanor helped to heal our hearts. I’ll never forget the look on Hayes’ & Kamri’s faces when we finally brought her home to them. Pure love shone through their faces as they held this little baby sister they had waited and prayed so long for.

We had another beautiful baby boy, Hansen, join our family in February 2013. My pregnancy with him was similar to Lyla’s. Weekly shots, bi-weekly appointments, lots of praying and nervousness. I would lay down multiple times during the day to try and avoid full bedrest. Thankfully, this time around I was able to be up more. Hansen was born at 34 weeks as well, weighing 4 lbs 15 oz. He was also in the NICU for two weeks. We probably seemed a bit odd to the nurses since we were so calm about him being there. Hansen has the funniest personality. He spreads happiness to everyone he interacts with. I really believe that my children were born in the order and time they were for a reason. We would need Hansen’s cheerfulness for what was to come.

When Hansen was 4 months old we moved back to Cedar City where this story all started. As much as I hated Las Vegas when we moved there, I had come to love it and it was really hard to move away, even if it was moving to my hometown! From the time Hansen was a few months old I had this incessant feeling that I needed to decide what to do about more children in our family. Were we done, should we get pregnant again, should we do foster care and adopt? We spent a year and a half praying, discussing, and searching for what we should do. We met with a foster care recruiter and an OB/GYN doctor here in town to discuss different options hoping we’d find confirmation in what we should do. Through prayers and promptings from the Holy Ghost, Bracken and I individually came to know it was God’s will for us to get pregnant one more time and that this would be my last pregnancy.

As expected, this pregnancy was anything but easy. There were ups and downs from the beginning. One night the bleeding was so bad that I was sure I had miscarried. A doctor appointment the next week showed that miraculously there was still a heartbeat in my womb. I went through my weekly progesterone shots, bi-weekly appointments and at 18 weeks had a cerclage in hopes that a stitch would help strengthen my shortening cervix. After three weeks of bedrest, including missing out on our family vacation (Bracken is a rock star to take all four kids on his own!) I started having contractions. They were able to get the contractions to slow and labor wasn’t progressing so they determined I would be on bedrest for the rest of my pregnancy in the Saint George hospital. I was feeling much better and we were optimistic that I could handle a long hospital stay. Bracken headed back to Cedar to get my things I would need. About 10 minutes before he made it back to Saint George I started shaking and felt freezing cold. A nurse came in and took my temperature. I had a fever. They ran to get the doctor. Bracken came right as the doctors were discussing what to do. An amniocentesis was done and found that I had an infection in my uterus. The baby would have to be delivered.

Our tiny little girl, Naomi Faith, was delivered still at 6:22 p.m. on June 11^, 2015. She was 15 oz and 11 inches long. As they handed her to me, I realized the sheer beauty of being able to deliver a baby and the baby being handed directly to you. It broke my heart that I was being handed a baby that would never breathe, who I would never get to know in this life; but the act of being able to deliver her was a tender mercy. I am grateful to have been able to experience that instead of having to have a sixth C-section. Her body was perfectly formed, beautiful nose, fingers, ears, legs, arms, toes, tongue, eyebrows, hair. It was all there in miniscule. I couldn’t stop looking at her and saying I’m so sorry, over and over. My body had let her down.

Heartbroken again, Bracken and I headed home the next day. Hayes and Kamri had asked after every doctor’s appointment if the baby was still alive. We dreaded getting home this time and having to tell them no. I had been home an hour or so, we had told them, and I started feeling feverish again. I had to go back to the hospital. I spent three more days in the hospital with IV’s full of antibiotics to save my life. As hard as it was to go back and sit for three days in the hospital after everything that had happened, I was filled with gratitude that through modern medicine I would be able to go home and be with Bracken and our four living children.

It has now almost been a year since we had Naomi and six and a half years from Dane’s. Those two children have brought our family closer together. Dane & Naomi are talked about often by their siblings and parents. My children have learned at a young age that death is not the end and we will see them again. I have learned and continue to learn the power of Jesus Christ’s atonement to bear our burdens. There are still days and moments I struggle with my grief but most of the time I am in awe at Christ’s power to bear our burdens and make them light.

I don’t feel like I’m an inspiring person or that my story is particularly inspiring except that through these experiences I have come to know of God’s love for me and for everyone. I have felt God’s love through the hundreds of meals that have been brought to our house, the hours of care that have been lovingly given to my kids, the visits, the calls, the text messages of comfort and support that have been sent and the countless prayers that have been given on our behalf by friends, family, acquaintances and strangers. I have been amazed at how many people have reached out to me at random moments when I have needed it the most.

I am learning to not be critical of others’ choices and try my best not to judge. I am not perfect but these experiences have helped me strive to be better. You never know all of a person’s backstory. I often get the well-meaning comment from strangers when they see me with my kids, “Two boys and Two girls, what a perfect family!!” and while I appreciate that I am significantly blessed to have the children I have, I can’t help but think of the two who are missing. I’m grateful that I know this life isn’t the end, that one day I’ll have my family all together but until then, I hope to help others feel of Christ’s love for them by serving them as so many have done for me.

INSPIRING WOMEN {Heather}

This months inspiring woman is Heather!

When I first met her I was blown away by her story. She is someone that listens to promptings from the Lord, even if it is something she is confused by. She sacrificed so much for one little girl! 

Here is her story...

I’m going to be very honest in this account, so you are going to see me—warts and all. As I write this I hope that I’ve grown up a little bit. It’s also interesting for me to review how small and simple things can change our lives dramatically.

On November 27, 2011 (I remember, because it was my birthday), I received what to me was devastating news: I received a new church calling—I was to put together the ward bulletin. You know, type up the speakers, prayers, songs, and announcements and make copies to distribute on Sunday. Now this probably doesn’t seem like devastating news to anyone else, but it was to me. I was completely and totally offended. Apparently our bishopric had not received a copy of my church resume. I even went to the Lord in prayer when I came home from church and asked, “Do You not trust me anymore? Is this all You think I am capable of doing these days?”

I am sure that the Lord was laughing at me that day in the kindest way possible, but He also gave me the prompting that now was the time for me to focus on the callings that are truly most important—and don’t come with a bishop’s interview. He helped me realize that what I really needed to focus on was mothering my children in an involved and intentional way, and truly meeting the needs of those I visit teach.

At this time I was visiting teaching a family in rough circumstances. Their lives were touched with drug rehab and jail time. They also had a young baby—not quite a year old. Oh, he was so sweet! I babysat him when I could, and just wished I could keep him safe and secure while his family was getting their lives back into a good place. (Our bishop at the time worked with DCFS, and he was very familiar with the family’s situation, so I assumed that if the child had needed removal, that it would have happened.) As I considered this sweet little guy, the thought came to me, “There are hundreds of children who are in worse situations than this. You are willing to help this one because you know him, but could you help those you don’t know?”

This thought began to haunt me—I couldn’t put it out of my head. It became a matter of prayer for several months before I even mentioned it to my husband. For about 5 months, my part of the conversations with Heavenly Father usually went something like this: “Are you kidding me, Heavenly Father? You want me to do WHAT???? I can’t even mother my own 4 children the way I should. I think you’ve got the wrong girl here.” Finally I humbled myself enough to mention it to my husband, who took it very well, and we both decided to make it a matter of prayer.

In October 2012 we got our answer. We were listening to General Conference, and Elder Dallin H. Oaks gave the talk, “Protect the Children.” (https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2012/10/protect-the-children?lang=eng) My husband and I were standing in the kitchen watching the conference on our computer, and the spirit just overwhelmed us both. We still didn’t know if we were capable of being foster parents, but we definitely knew that was the direction Heavenly Father wanted us to go. At times, I even hoped, “Maybe this is my Abrahamic test. Maybe I just have to show God I would be willing to do this, but maybe I’ll never really have to.”

We started the process right away with Utah Foster Care, but with the timing of everything we weren’t able to take our 32-hours for licensing until March 2013. We were licensed in May 2013, and then began the waiting game. We knew that there were many older children awaiting homes, but for us, we felt like we really needed to take children younger than our youngest—who at the time was only 3. We also knew there was a great need for people who would take sibling groups, but I only felt capable of taking one child for my first placement. So with our parameters so narrow—1 child younger than 3—we knew we may never even get the call.

But in January 2014 we did. The call came at lunchtime. Would I be willing to pick up a baby from the hospital that night? They didn't have a lot of information but they told me what they knew. Because we knew that taking a child younger than 5 years was a commitment to adopt the child if the parents lost their rights, I wanted a chance to talk to my husband and pray first, so I told them I would call them back. As I prayed, I didn't feel like I got an answer as to whether or not the baby belonged in our family forever, but I did feel like I should offer to pick the baby up from the hospital. However, by the time I called DCFS back, they had found another home for Cameron (name changed for privacy). I had such mixed emotions--relief and disappointment both. But at 3pm DCFS called back. The other family had fallen through but she had to be picked up from the hospital today. Would we pick up Cameron, even if we couldn't keep her for the long haul? Of course! So an hour later we had greeted our children home from school with the news (which brought them to tears of joy and excitement--they had awaited this day with anticipation!) and had left to another town to pick up Cameron.

It was surreal. Cameron was tinier than anything I had ever seen--I was afraid I might accidentally break her. And everything had happened so fast! There was a lot of bureaucracy to deal with before we could leave, so we finally got home at 10:30pm--tired and very overwhelmed.

But Cameron was an instant joy! She fit so well into our family, and the way all the other children rose up to contribute to our Family Team was amazing. Although we thought we were doing a service for Cameron, we had no idea ahead of time how much she would change our lives for good. The smiles Cameron had for everyone! The social nature, the intelligence, energy, inquisitiveness and curiosity! The love that came into our home that year! Without a doubt, 2014 will go into our history as a banner year for our family.

But all this time, I knew that she was supposed to go home. I wanted to love her so much that she would lack nothing, but I also knew that I was choosing to have my heart broken. I would often hear people say, “Oh, I could never be a foster parent. I would get too attached.” And I just thought, “This isn’t about me. It’s about her. So it doesn’t matter if I get too attached.” I decided that the hand she was dealt in life was hard enough. Taking some of her pain was part of my job. I was the adult. I could handle it.

But even though I knew the day was inevitable and I thought I had prepared myself, I was still surprised at how much my heart hurt when the day came in February 2015. Her returning to her biological family was good. It was right. We knew it was Cameron's mother's privilege and responsibility and blessing to be the Mom, and to have Cameron in her life. But wow, were our hearts breaking! It felt good to be gathered as a family to cry and talk and grieve and hug and pray together. And although it felt so hard right then, we were still SO GRATEFUL for that last year and for our experience with Cameron! Our lives were so much better because of that little spirit in our home--and I wouldn't have changed a thing. The joy of having her in our home even outweighed the heartbreak.

For the next several months Cameron’s parents allowed her to come visit us once in a while, and it was wonderful to see her and hold her and laugh and play with her. Sometimes I would hold her and just think, “You belong HERE,” but then I would quickly tell myself, “No. She belongs with her parents. If she belonged her, she would be here.”

In July 2015 we again got “the call”. Could Cameron come back? This time it would be forever. Again, I grieved. As painful as it was when Cameron had to leave us, I also grieved at her return. Not because she was returning to me. OF COURSE we would take her back—gladly! But we recognized the loss that came with our gain, and I grieved for the loss of potential for Cameron and her biological family.

The adventure we call life has continued on since that day. Cameron quickly fit back into our family. Two weeks ago Cameron became legally ours. Next month she becomes eternally ours. When I look at Cameron now, I can’t imagine my life without her. She is as much mine as any of my biological children. I believe she was meant to be mine from the beginning, and that rebellious thought now feels justified: “You belong HERE.”

I consider how I fought the prompting to become a foster parent, and I am horrified to consider the consequences if I had let fear get in my way from following God’s will. No Cameron? Perish the thought! Someday soon, I hope to trust God so implicitly, that I will welcome those “scary” promptings, because I know that God loves me, and that his directions will only bring me joy in the end.