the thankful beethe thankful bee

Finding hope, joy and humor in our everyday.

My sincerest apologies to Victoria and her secret.

by Melissa Holderby on category

Never mind J.Lo and Shakira. Instead, I’d like to extend my sincerest apologies to Victoria and her secret. Well before the recent division over the Superbowl LIV half time show lashed out online, I penned some words to Victoria. Woman to woman.

Victoria’s sleek catalog had come addressed to me in our mailbox that bitter cold day. She did not even make it into my house. She landed immediately in the recycling bin in a rather undignified manner between the plastic bottles and a discarded pizza box. I know that was not hospitable of me towards her. It was freezing in the garage, and she was barely covered. I hope she didn’t take it personally. It was just a business decision.

Why such inhospitable treatment, you ask? Two reasons really.

my son

The first reason was my (almost at that time) thirteen year old son. My business was (still is) to teach him to treat women as his equal and with respect. Then and now, I want him to fall in love with a girl for her wisdom, her faith and her kindness. Not her boobies.

Don’t get me wrong. My son’s physical attraction to his future wife’s body is a-okay with me. I’m just saying the sexy part shouldn’t be the glue holding the relationship together. As an almost fifty year old woman, I know all too well that hips widen, bellies pooch and breasts head south. Sometimes WAY south! Unless you are J.Lo and are blessed by freakishly good genes and work your biscuits off to stay in top shape. I mean, seriously. She’s IS physically gorgeous and I admire her dedication. But, let’s carry on, shall we?

my daughter

The second reason that catalog landed in the recycling bin that day was my (almost at that time) sixteen year old daughter. My business was (still is) to teach her to feel beautiful because she is treasured by God and has infinite worth in His kingdom. Too many times in her life she will have to stand against the lies that she is too (insert your own personal adjective here) – short/tall, heavy/thin, brunette/blonde, light/dark. Then and now, I want her to stand confident that, body and soul, she is marvelously made! Strong. Smart. Brave. Kind. An incredibly capable woman with strong opinions and freckles.

Again, please don’t misunderstand me. I am all for a woman feeling confident about her body and wearing sexy underwear if that is what pleases HER. I’m just suggesting that a woman’s sex appeal is not the aspect that makes her beautiful, worthy or valuable. And a man who knows that and treats her as such is a keeper.

So, again, my sincerest apologies to Victoria and her secret. She was not (and still isn’t) welcome to enter. Her value system as an advertiser and my value system as a momma were at odds. I’m guessing they still are.

P.S. Also apologies to Victoria for the stale milk smell at the bottom of our recycling bin. I have been unsuccessful so far in teaching the other people in our house to rinse containers before recycling them. One lesson at a time.

Adapted from original 1/21/15 Facebook post. Image by jacqueline macou from Pixabay.

A fish out of water gets a pedicure.

by Melissa Holderby on category

Ever seen a fish out of water get a pedicure? I realize fish have fins and not feet. Yes, I know they do not have toes. Still, I was that fish at a local spa.

Here is the story.

I finally got around to spending my birthday gift money. My parents gave it to me with instructions to buy something out-of-the-ordinary. In other words, something I wanted that I would not typically buy for myself. We don’t have a lot of extra money in our budget for what I call “splurges”, and I really loved the idea of treating myself (with someone else’s cash). So, I booked a pedicure to celebrate finishing the school year and to prepare for our summer vacation. I’m not a “spa regular”, but I can fake it for an hour, right?!?

Ha! It turns out that I could have been filming an episode of a new sitcom called “Fish Out of Water”. The lady next to me on the right was chatting loudly about her son’s graduation from (insert name of exclusive local private school) and her upcoming vacation to France. The lady on my left was complaining about the weather forecast for her cruise next week compared to her cruise last month.

I was just sitting there between them – a fish out of water getting a pedicure. A fish trying hard not to giggle out loud and call attention to herself.

I’m a fairly simple girl.

May I be honest? I’m a fairly simple girl. I was just pleased as punch to have a Diet Coke in an actual glass (with ice!) that afternoon instead of my usual can or plastic bottle. I got to leisurely browse a fancy fashion magazine cover to cover. You know the kind of magazine I mean – the kind with glossy pages that smell like perfume and money. The kind with advertisements for expensive boutique cosmetics and shoes that cost more than my entire wardrobe.

I think I was so giggly that afternoon at the spa in part because of the comical, superficial contrast of myself between the other two women. My current cosmetics (what few I own and wear) are all from the grocery or drug store. In fact, I’m pretty sure one of the two eye liners upstairs in my make-up bag is actually from DollarTree. I cannot remember the last time I had my hair professionally highlighted in a salon. I also stopped DIY coloring my hair at home six years ago. And none of the pairs of shoes in my bedroom closet cost more than $75. That’s just how I roll these days. Our money is going elsewhere.

comfortable in our own skin

Don’t get me wrong. No shame in us spending our money on extras or “splurges” if we have examined our motives and decided that is truly what’s appropriate for us. If money flowed more freely, I would likely have fewer gray hairs visible on my head. I might have a few cosmetics from someplace fancier than I do now. And I may even vacation in France or take cruises more often than once in a lifetime.

Still, I am pretty comfortable in my own skin as is. I can genuinely appreciate an afternoon splurge, and I can be equally content with unadorned toes. Actually, some of the best moments in my life have happened without mascara or lip gloss. I want my heart and soul to be beautiful FIRST – the rest is a bonus.

As a side note, I really wish my younger self – “Teenage Melissa” – had this frame of reference. I spent too much time in high school listening to what the world said about my worth. For example, I was convinced my hair was too fine, and my skin was too fair. One tooth was uneven. My eyebrows were too thick, and my jaw was too square. And so on…

Good grief! “Pushing Fifty Melissa” needs to go back in time and give “Teenage Melissa” a solid pep talk (or a good smack upside the head) followed by a forgiving hug. I’m guessing I’m not alone in that. We probably all would love to go back in time long enough to give our younger selves some wisdom and perspective.

So, here is the bottom line. No matter which you are – a fancy fish, a fairly simple fish or some fish in between – know that you are God’s handiwork, wonderfully made. He loves you – heart and soul. You are beautiful.

Oh, and just so you know, I actually have been to Paris (Kentucky).

Adapted from original 6/5/19 Facebook post. Image by Bruno Glätsch from Pixabay.

Three coincidences within an hour? You decide.

by Melissa Holderby on category

We are all fighting some kind of battle(s). For many of us that battle is anxiety. In other words, we give fear permission to steal our joy and destroy our peace. I’d love to tell you about some crazy stuff that happened one Saturday when my own anxiety came calling. Fear had a foothold in my heart that day, yet I was able to exhale because of a stranger, a song and a comedian. Three coincidences within an hour? You decide.

fear gets a foothold

That particular weekend Allan and I went to our 5:30pm Saturday worship service at our church. That was our normal routine. Full transparency? I was scared. You see, this time was anything but routine for me. This was the first time we would leave Luke in the toddler childcare room since he started his seizures at home exactly one week prior at the same hour.

I feel strongly that I have the responsibility of aligning my actions with my words. And my words to you recently have centered around God as trustworthy. So, we packed Luke up and headed out. I was super nervous, but we did it anyway.

The childcare staff at our church was already aware of our events from the previous weekend and Luke’s new seizure diagnosis. I knew better than to just hand the kid off to an unprepared volunteer with my cell number and a dose of rescue medication. (Trusting doesn’t mean foolish, right?) So, I texted earlier in the day to let the staff know we were coming that night and to ask about bringing Luke to his toddler childcare room for the hour. The staff responded with a warm and genuine “YES”, and we worked out a few details before arriving.

My heart sank when I approached the toddler room. Luke’s favorite volunteer (Melinda) was not serving that evening. Melinda has invested a lot of extra TLC helping Luke feel comfortable in that environment. Luke feels loved and safe when she is there. I feel secure when she is there. Melinda was not there. My anxiety swelled.

the stranger, the song and the comedian

The anxiety really had a strangle-hold on me. My muscles felt tense. My lungs wouldn’t release a deep breath. Even my heart felt heavy. Then I encountered a stranger, a song and a comedian in quick succession. Three coincidences within an hour? You decide.

“coincidence” #1 : the stranger

Rich was one of the toddler room volunteers that night, and he immediately approached Luke and me at the counter. He had already been briefed by the staff about Luke’s new situation and was ready to listen to my worried description of Luke’s seizure signs. He didn’t even raise an eyebrow that I had made a laminated card in the medicine pouch with seizure first aid tips and our emergency numbers. (Trusting doesn’t mean foolish, remember?)

Rich and I had never met before, although he had volunteered in the toddler room previously and knew Luke. During my nervous small talk, Rich said he worked as a driver for UPS. His career before that? Rich had been an EMT. In other words, an emergency medical guy on an ambulance trained in life-saving skills. I literally felt my tense chest relax. *EXHALE*

“coincidence” #2: the song

God definitely got my attention with Rich the retired EMT. However, my anxiety started peaking again when I entered the dark auditorium. The band was leading worship, and I tried to let the music distract me.

I have a go-to song for when I am feeling overwhelmed and afraid. Surrounded by Michael W. Smith. Maybe you’ve heard it, too?

“It may look like I’m surrounded,
But I’m surrounded by You.
This is how I fight my battles.”

That very song was next in the band’s set list. I know every note, every word by heart. We can’t sing out loud and hold our breath in fear, can we? *EXHALE*

Watch Michael W. Smith perform the chorus HERE.

“coincidence” #3: the comedian

If you know me heart and soul, you know that humor is one of my sincerest love languages. Comedy helps me cope. For the first time in the decade I have attended our church, the message was delivered by a nationally-known and award-winning comedian. In other words, a professional humor guy who earns a living making other people laugh.

Seriously. No joke. (See what I did there? That’s funny!)

I laughed out loud without hesitation. This guy was amazing – not just funny, but incredibly inspiring. We can’t belly laugh and hold our breath in fear, right? *EXHALE*

Watch Comedian Michael Jr. HERE.

A retired EMT for safety? Provision! A song for strength? Power! A professional comedian for laughter? Peace! ***EXHALE***

Three coincidences within an hour? I don’t believe so. Look around you. What blessings do you see in the midst of your battles? Count them. Focus on them. Peace CAN be restored, friends. Be encouraged.

Adapted from 10/13/19 Facebook post. Image by JacLou DL from Pixabay.

Baby Bear is in good hands, seizures or not.

by Melissa Holderby on category

Many of you have asked about my outlook on Luke’s seizure diagnosis last Fall. I say Baby Bear is in good hands, seizures or not. Read on!

QUESTION:

“How are you doing, Mama Bear?”

ANSWER:

“Actually pretty good, all things considered.”

There are several details I have not yet shared with you, in fact. Open your mind, and let’s go!

detail #1

I had the oddest experience the day of Luke’s initial seizure. I laid down on my own bed to rest during Luke’s afternoon nap. Suddenly I had the detailed sensation of laying down on the spare bed in my grandparents’ old house.

I could “see” and “hear” and “feel” everything in vivid detail. Every nuance was exactly like that room from my childhood, except that I have not consciously thought about it in decades.

Eyes closed = old bedroom where I slept whenever I spent extended time with my grandparents (circa 1975). Eyes open = my own bedroom (2019). Hard to believe, I know.

Was I hallucinating? Dreaming? I wondered the same thing, to be honest. I even stood up next to my own bed for a few minutes to clear my thoughts before laying back down.

Surely this was all too weird to actually be happening. RIGHT?!? Nope – everything from my childhood was still there when I closed my eyes.

I finally just accepted whatever this experience was and let myself enjoy it. The sensation lasted another five to ten minutes before it faded away, gone completely. Now if I close my eyes and try to “see” the same images, everything is just blurry and distant.

Two key points to realize here.

(1) I adored my grandparents and always associated their home with love and security. That house in particular was the location of many of my dearest memories.

(2) I was not drinking in the middle of the day.

I got up from my rest at the end of Luke’s nap feeling inexplicably peaceful and grounded. Good thing, because Luke had his first seizure later the same day. I had no clue I would later need that supernatural emotional foundation.

detail #2

Hannah got home from college for her Fall Break a few hours before Luke’s first seizure. As a result, Allan and I missed our usual Saturday 5:30pm worship service at our church.

If our Saturday schedule had been per usual, Luke would have had his initial seizure in the church’s childcare room with a less familiar adult.

Instead, Luke was face-to-face with Allan playing with toys on the rug in our family room at home. Allan was able to recognize the trouble immediately and call 911. Baby Bear was in Allan’s good hands.

detail #3

Let me tell you about Tony.

Tony was the EMT who cared for Luke in the back of the ambulance on the way to the emergency room. He has a young son with epilepsy and was able to reassure Allan father-to-father en route. Thanks to Tony, my husband was relatively calm when I arrived at the hospital moments later. As a result, Allan was better able to support his emotionally-charged wife. Baby Bear was in Tony’s good hands.

detail #4

I felt overwhelmed in the hospital around the issue of my job. How would I ever feel comfortable leaving Luke with a caregiver on the days I work outside our home?

Unbeknownst to me, Luke’s already awesome two-day/week sitter actually went through this experience with HER son at the same age. Her son is older now and successfully seizure-free.

Luke’s sitter was a supportive resource to me in the hospital. Trust me. I had all the questions and all the big emotions. Even more impressive, she and her husband were already very comfortable with Diastat (Luke’s emergency seizure medication).

Seriously – I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect solution outside of winning the lottery and quitting my job completely. Baby Bear is in his sitter’s good hands.

detail #5

Our tribe held me up. I receive strength from heart-felt words. It was incredibly helpful to me to hear encouragement from our friends, family and co-workers. Every loving word spoken to me added to my defenses whenever fear tried to get a foothold.

I was especially blessed by those who vulnerably shared their own stories about seizures. Thank you for allowing me to ask questions and process hard feelings.

pulling it all together

God sure sent the right help at the right time – even before I knew I had reason to need it. That has been His modus operandi my entire life. It’s who He is.

My heart recharged on Saturday afternoon so I could handle the upheaval that began Saturday evening. Thank you, Yahweh Shalom (“The Lord Is Peace”).

Parents already managing their child’s seizures crossed our path to act as guides. Luke’s godparents waited with us in the emergency department, serving as comfort and support. Logistically speaking, they also drove Hannah home from the hospital late at night. Thank you, Yahweh Yireh (“The Lord Will Provide”)

Our friends and family tenderly love Luke (and us). They lent encouragement through texts, private messages and uplifting Facebook comments. My favorites? Anything that made me laugh. Anyone who personally knows me understands that humor is one of my love languages. My Father knows that little detail about me, you see. Thank you, Abba (“Papa”).

Anonymous folks simply prayed for our family without any acknowledgement at all. They may have been hidden from us, but we were not invisible to them. Thank you, El Roi (“The God Who Sees”).

God certainly left His fingerprints all over this chapter of Luke’s story – just like the chapters that preceded it and no doubt the chapters to come.

So, to answer the initial question, Mama Bear is feeling victorious no matter what the future holds. Above all, Baby Bear is in Good Hands.

Adapted from 10/8/19 Facebook post. Image by Free-Photos from Pixabay.

It’s all good because my Dad is here.

by Melissa Holderby on category

I am willing to admit my weaknesses to you. For instance, my toddler is sometimes wiser than me. It took a frightening trip to the children’s hospital for me to remember what Luke clearly already understood. It’s all good because my Dad is here.

Please, allow me to explain.

Luke had three scary seizures last Fall – one at home and two smaller ones later at the hospital. He never had a seizure before that day.

After admission to the inpatient neurology unit, Luke amazed us. Happily munching on applesauce and graham crackers at midnight, for example. Radiating pure joy when Allan returned from home with a favorite stuffed animal. Puppy! Sleeping peacefully in an unfamiliar metal hospital crib without a care in the world as a result. Groggily smiling at the nurse who checked his vital signs in the wee hours of the morning.

As a result of that very early morning vitals check, my sweet boy was still awake at 4:00am. He pointed his chubby little toddler finger at Allan asleep on the pull-out cot and grinned, as if to say, “It’s all good because my dad is here!”

Wise (unspoken) words, kid. That became my mantra. My go-to phrase when I didn’t know what else to say. “It’s all good because my Dad is here.”

Who is my Dad?

My Dad goes by several names in the Book all about Him. Some of these are Hebrew. Some are Aramaic. All of them speak to His character and His relationship to us. Here are just some of my favorites.

El Roi (“The God Who Sees“). My Father who sees us praying. Waiting. I actually posted earlier this week about a time He saw me at the grocery store. True story.

Yahweh Shalom (“The Lord Is Peace”). My Dad who replaces our worry with rest. Yep, recently posted a true story about peace in the midst of a raging storm, too.

Yahweh Yireh (“The Lord Will Provide”). My Dad who puts the exact right resource/person/information in our path at the exact right time. Read about the day He literally provided cookies in a very unexpected way. Also a true story.

Abba (“Papa”). My Papa who can be fully trusted. The One who loves us tenderly, knows us personally and cares about all that concerns us. Sparrow in the airport, anyone? Another true story.

Elohim (“God of Power”). My Dad whose strong hands created our world, including unassuming little coffee beans. I am just waiting for the hospital cafeteria to open. Mama Bear needs a big, hot cup of caffeine. Cream. No sugar.

Thanks, Dad. I am so thankful You are here.

Adapted from 10/6/19 Facebook post. Image by Mylene2401 from Pixabay

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A trip to the grocery store turns threatening.

by Melissa Holderby on category ,

Let me tell you a crazy story that happened recently. It is about the day a trip to the grocery store turned threatening for me and my toddler. I won’t soon forget the experience. It can be summed up by three distinct voices and one dangerous ride.

the first voice

It was a mistake you were chosen to be Luke’s mom! You don’t deserve to be anyone’s mother!

You are a disgrace. Look at you! You’re worthless.

How could you let this happen?!! You are a BAD MOM!

At least those were the words the accusing voice screamed at me in front of the grocery store. I was shaking and embarrassed with stinging tears of shame in my eyes.

the second voice

A second voice was there, too. It belonged to a stranger with a kind face. Her voice was softer and more gentle. You are okay. He is okay. This has happened to me before, too. I was grateful even if I didn’t believe her.

Here’s what had happened just moments before.

Luke and I were making a quick trip to the grocery store. As per the usual routine, he was securely strapped into the seat of a metal shopping cart, ready to head into the grocery store with me. I stopped to look at some autumn mum plants for purchase outside. My hand and eyes left the cart for ten seconds. That’s when our trip to the grocery store turned threatening.

the dangerous ride

I heard a woman’s voice that sounded alarmed and scared. Apparently when my attention was diverted to the mums, the shopping cart with my son attached rolled forward, then down the slope and into the crowded parking lot. I turned around just in time to see the woman catch the cart with Luke in the traffic lane.

No cars were coming in either direction. Tragedy was averted.

Immediately the first voice harshly screamed at me (in my head). Condemnation swelled up in me like hot acid in the back of my throat. Even after the woman with the kind face spoke gracious words to me, I was still horrified.

I stayed outside to collect myself before Luke and I entered the store. I was rattled for sure. My thoughts were swirling like angry hornets in my head.

Mistake. Unworthy. Disgrace.

the third voice

A third voice showed up. This one was also in my head. In other words, not an audible voice like the woman who caught the cart. It was more like an arrow suddenly cutting through the swarm of hornets and landing squarely in my heart.

Bullseye!

I chose you to be Luke’s mother five years before he was even born, and I don’t make mistakes.

I see you striving to be deserving of the gift. You don’t have to be Luke’s savior, because I am Luke’s Savior. Remember that I am your Savior, too. You are worthy because I say you are worthy.

Keep doing the best you can at any given moment and then trust Me to stand in the gap. You are a good mom. You are My beloved daughter. Grace has you covered. Stick with Me. I’ve got this.

in the end

As a result, I left the grocery store feeling better than when I entered. Luke seemed completely unimpressed by the whole near-accident. He was still my sweet, goofy boy with bare feet and peanut butter in his hair.

That night I tucked Luke into bed. We brushed his teeth. I read Goodnight, Moon. I kissed him on the cheek, telling him how much we treasure him. Most importantly, I told him about the voice that belongs to the King of All Creation.

Sleep tight, Baby Bear. Listen to His voice. He loves you beyond measure.

Adapted from 9/16/19 Facebook post. Image by Michael Gaida from Pixabay.

Trucker biker cookies on a plane.

by Melissa Holderby on category ,

I alluded to a “cookie-eating truck driver” in my December 27th blog post. Here is the story about trucker biker cookies on a plane! Along with the story about the sparrow and the surfer dude, this is one of my absolute favorites.

First, some background.

eleven days

Luke was born on May 29th. We met him May 30th. He was released from the NICU and officially into our care on June 2nd. Allan flew back to Ohio on June 3rd, returning to our older two kids and his job. I got official clearance on June 7th to leave California with Luke. Lunch with Luke’s birthmom on June 8th. Luke and I flew home June 9th. He was just eleven days old.

Let’s pause here. Really embrace that timeline for a moment.

I was a newborn’s sole caregiver, protector and provider in an unfamiliar city thousands of miles from home with no back up for almost a full week. Any ring of my cell phone could mean that the adoption placement had fallen through. If I had fully processed what was happening, I would have had a full-fledged panic attack. Hour by hour, I held it together. I leaned into science programs on TV, bologna sandwiches and texts from family and friends.

Until, I was NOT holding it all together anymore. Suddenly it was GO TIME! Time to check out of the hotel (my safe cocoon), drop off the rental car and fly home solo with Luke.

* CRACK *

Hear that? That is the sound of my strong armor starting to crack apart.

cracks in my armor

Here is an example of a big crack in my armor. The TSA screeners in California seemed a lot more intense than we had experienced in Utah or Ohio. How would I ever manage airport security alone with a baby and all his gear? What if I lost something essential? What if other people got mad I was so inefficient and SLOW?

* CRACK *

I had just enough diapers and formula with me to cover Luke until we landed in Cincinnati. What if I missed our connection in Salt Lake City and got caught without provisions for him? Oh, man. Then what if Luke screamed his little head off? And what if I couldn’t provide for and comfort that hungry, pee-soaked baby?? Airport security!

* CRACK *

I was running on adrenaline and caffeine fumes. As a result, how would I safely hold a newborn on two flights? I could barely hold open my own eyelids. What if he slid out of my arms and rolled under the plane seat? What is somebody STEPPED ON HIM??

* CRACK *

Don’t laugh. These were actually the crazy things racing through my exhausted and very emotional head at that time. Shall we continue? There were plenty of more cracks happening in my armor.

I had no official paperwork saying that Luke was legally in my care. How would I explain myself if airport security accused me of smuggling a baby? Would the police arrest me? Would I have to return to California to “straighten things out”? GASP – could I go to jail??

* CRACK *

Oh, and those bologna sandwiches I ate all week in the hotel room? What if I suffered Oscar Meyer’s Revenge on the airplane???

* CRACK *

my biggest fear

Truth be told, none of those cracks were my biggest stressor. Nope. I was actually most afraid of being seated on the plane next to someone who was openly critical of me or the situation. We’ve all had the experience of waiting at the airport and seeing someone flying with a small child. And that’s when we’ve all had the same thought… “Dear God, please do NOT let those people be near me on this flight!!!”

Well, suddenly Luke and I were THOSE people. I was the one with the small child that everyone on the flight wanted to avoid. I prayed all night and that morning for God to put me next to some sweet grandmotherly type who loved babies and loved adoption and would just be kind to me. If not, I was in danger of having a breakdown right there on Delta.

Speaking of breakdowns, there was no sweet grandmotherly type waiting for me. And my cracking armor? Well, it cracked even wider when I realized my seat neighbor for the duration of the flight was a big, burly trucker/biker looking dude. Yes, I am guilty of stereotyping him. Yep, I judged him based solely on his rough appearance. No, I am not proud of that fact. But no way this guy was the answer to my prayer.

a calloused hand on a peach fuzz head

Trucker/biker guy (who introduced himself as “Wayne”) asked me how old Luke was and why I was traveling alone with such a tiny baby. Cautiously I told him the story. Big, burly Wayne surprised me with genuine tears in his eyes. Then, still teary, he shared HIS story with me. He told me that when he was 16 years old, his 14-year-old girlfriend had gotten pregnant. At that time, they had opted for an abortion. Wayne said that he thinks about that baby all the time and that his son or daughter would have been 42 years old now.

Wayne humbly asked permission to bless Luke. I agreed. He gently placed his big calloused hand on Luke’s peach fuzz head and blessed him with a happy life. The rest of the flight our new friend acted as a protector – making sure the air was not blowing directly on us, that we had plenty of room, that I could reach what I needed. All of that was a welcome relief.

The best part? My new friend asked for extra cookies for both of us when the flight attendant came around with the snack cart. Extra cookies! How did Wayne know chocolate chip cookies speak comfort to me?!! I felt safe and secure eating those trucker biker cookies on the plane. I could not have asked for a better neighbor on that flight!

unexpected packaging

And so, God sent exactly what I needed exactly when I needed it. True, the packaging was not at all what I expected. The sweet grandmotherly type I wanted turned out to be a trucker/biker guy with extra cookies on a plane. A tattooed answer to my prayers named Wayne with comfort for me and a heart-felt blessing for my peach-fuzz son.

I hope that Luke and I were helpful back to that gentleman somehow. We parted ways in Salt Lake City, and I caught the connecting flight to Cincinnati with time to spare. A little more confident. Much less afraid. Cookie crumbs on my shirt. Fewer cracks in my armor.

Adapted from 7/1/2018 Facebook post. Image by Scottslm from Pixabay

I don’t make New Year resolutions because they stink.

by Melissa Holderby on category

I typically don’t make New Year resolutions because they stink. You know what I mean. Things like, I am going to lose 30 pounds by swim suit season. Or, I am going to save three months worth of expenses in an emergency fund. And perhaps my favorite, I will not yell at my kids. Or my husband. Or the dog.

Yes, New Year resolutions stink. In other words, they smell badly. To be fair, they don’t have an odor at first. No, initially they smell like hope and promise and good intentions. A bubbly, sweet glass of champagne at magical midnight. Give it a few months, though. And then guess what I’ve got? A stinky list of disappointment in myself. Sour grape juice in the accusing light of day. No, thanks.

something different

Therefore instead of a list of resolutions, I started something different two years ago. I now make a bucket list of new things I want to experience in the upcoming year. For instance, different restaurants or recipes to try. Or a new hobby I want to explore. Maybe a novel place to travel.

Want to see my own bucket list for 2020? Here is a peek!

take a beginning pottery class

Who wants to throw some clay onto a pottery wheel with me? I have been intrigued ever since I made a clay project in fourth-grade art class. I clearly remember the little river otter created by nine-year-old me. He was precious. Until he blew up in the classroom kiln and came back to me with a chunk of his wee otter belly missing. Must have had a gas bubble in there. Poor little guy.

Anyway, I am registering for a beginning pottery class in March. So look for updates on that little experiment (and pictures of lumpy clay creations) this Spring! No wee otters this time, but maybe a mug or a bowl. Hopefully it doesn’t look like fourth-grade-me crafted it. Ha! Honestly, as long as I stretch myself by trying something new and having fun doing it, then bucket list mission accomplished.

tour a local winery

I have done this in the past and always enjoyed it. Why don’t I do this more often? If you have any recommendations within a few hours drive of southwest Ohio, please send them my way! Seriously. Let me know in the comments below. I truly want to hear your suggestions.

spend time outside my comfort zone

Technically this one is already scheduled. I will spend ten days in South Africa in July 2020 with seventy other adults. The trip is a chance to work alongside a local church in that country as well as the organization, Build The Future. And what a unique opportunity to learn from the powerful story of racial reconciliation in South Africa! As a result, our team will be able to apply what we’ve experienced to our communities, our country and most importantly to our own call as reconcilers. Very much looking forward to this adventure! Not at all looking forward to the 18-hour flight to get there. I actually swore off air travel in June 2018.

make YOUR bucket list

What is on your bucket list for 2020? It doesn’t have to be anything big or fancy. In other words, just something personal and meaningful to YOU.

Need help getting started? Here is the printable New Year’s Bucket List I started using two years ago. Last time I checked, it is FREE to download.

The new year is ours. What are we going to do with it? Cheers to 2020 and new experiences, friends!

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay.

We are finally coming home!

by Melissa Holderby on category

Today we have a BOGO. Think of it as an after-holiday sale without the crowds and the parking hassle. We are going to wrap up our December blog series with the last two messages I sent home from Sacramento. Email #6 was originally written June 7, 2018. My final email was sent June 10, 2018 after returning home the previous night.

Thank you for joining us on our month-long trip down memory lane. There is something about the holidays that brings out the sentimental in me.

*************************

my sixth email home (6/7/2018)

Our Ohio social worker texted me a few hours ago. Ohio has approved Luke as a resident, and now we are fully cleared to leave California! Luke and I will be flying home Saturday afternoon (6/9/18)!

I have to admit, I am super nervous about flying across country alone with a newborn. All the details about returning the rental car, taking the shuttle to the airport terminal, navigating security, and managing an 11-day old infant on two planes (layover in Salt Lake City) is scary as heck. But God continues to provide me reassurance…

For example, our friends have family out here who are “overjoyed” to meet me at the airport Saturday and help handle the rental car, luggage, a stroller, and Luke. That is a huge weight off my heart.

Mrs. Branch – another sparrow

I called the airline directly to make the flight reservation and ask plenty of questions. The representative introduced herself as “Mrs. Branch” (another sparrow reference) She was incredibly kind and patient. Turns out Mrs. Branch and I are exactly the same forty-something ages with 19-year-old daughters, 16-year-old sons and very young babies. Not only was she able to book my seat and answer all my questions (essentially her job), but she also gave me a very encouraging pep talk about flying with a baby and about bringing a newborn into our family dynamic (definitely not her job).

Did you know, for example, that TSA will open one of Luke’s formula bottles to test the contents before they allow us to pass the security checkpoint? Even thought the bottles are small (2oz each), factory sealed and labeled. I never would have known that, so I will pack extras. I told Mrs. Branch the only explosive thing about Luke’s formula is in his diapers afterward. She laughed, but I think I’ll keep my goofy sense of humor to myself with the TSA agents on Saturday.

We are in the final stretch folks! I cannot wait to be home. Please keep the prayers for peaceful sleep and a peaceful mind/heart coming!

*************************

my final email from home (6/10/2018)

We safely landed at CVG Saturday night at 10:20pm and are now home and doing fine. I will send a picture of us as a family as soon as I can corral all three of my children plus Allan and myself in the same spot – AND I have showered and slept more than a few hours in a row.

keeping my promise

Luke and I celebrated our last night in California with a quick trip to In-N-Out Burger. I had promised Nadine that I would take Luke for some fine California “cuisine” before we left the State. She laughed at the picture I texted to her and confirmed that I had made a good choice in restaurants. I also wanted her to know I keep my promises. That’s key in any relationship.

Wish we had these burgers in Ohio!
tears at two airports

Our friends’ cousin – Cathy – took great care of us getting from the rental car to the Delta terminal and then to the security checkpoint. Her genuine kindness will never be forgotten. I was so emotional leaving California and getting on a plane with Luke, and she just cried right along with me! She was a definite blessing to us on a happy, sad and scary day.

Time to go, Baby Bear.

Luke had his own little boarding pass for both flights. Traveling solo with an 11-day-old baby was one of the craziest things I’ve ever done. However, the right people showed up at the right time to help me – God made sure. When I am more rested, I can’t wait to tell you about the cookie-eating truck driver seated next to me to Salt Lake City (published January 5, 2020).

Luke is already a well-loved little boy here. Having part of our family at the airport was such a welcome sight! He has already met an aunt, an uncle and one cousin. Big sister, Hannah, fed Luke before we got in the car to drive home, too. Welcome to the family, kid!

There is much more to tell, and I am looking forward to seeing you in person sometime this summer. Unless you live in another state, in which case, it may be a while. No more airports for me for a long, long, time.

you prayed us home

Thank you again from the bottom of my heart for all of your encouragement and support during our adventure. It is crazy to think we didn’t even know Luke existed two weeks ago! Your love and your prayers were felt all the way across the country – I sincerely mean that. When I was at my low points of fatigue or fear, I was able to take great peace in knowing that our army was covering us in prayer. You prayed us home and you will always be an important part of Luke’s adoption story.

With much love, Melissa

Join the thankful bee in 2020 as we move forward with more encouraging hope, joy and humor. Our next story will publish on New Years Day and will toast a different aspect of our crazy life – “I Don’t Make New Year Resolutions Because They Stink“.

Image by Lars_Nissen_Photoart from Pixabay.

Unexpected and unwanted excitement.

by Melissa Holderby on category ,

Welcome to our fifth sprinkle of encouragement for December! I originally sent my fifth email home from California on June 6, 2018. At this point in time, Luke was eight days old and had been adoptively placed with us for only four of those days. Also by this time, over one hundred people were receiving our email updates. It was so encouraging to know that our growing army of supporters was keeping watch. That fact helped me to breathe more deeply. And considering the unexpected and unwanted excitement that occurred the morning of these words, I needed those deep breaths.

my fifth email home (6/6/2018)

The pieces of the puzzle continue to snap into place here. California has processed what is needed to release Luke from his birth state. Now the paperwork is in Ohio’s hands to process accepting Luke as a “Buckeye”. The process is very formal and legal. Admittedly, I don’t quite understand it all. However, I do understand that I will be eternally grateful when we are both allowed to come home. It looks like Saturday at the absolute earliest.

jumping through hoops

There is another formality that I need in hand to be able to leave California. I need a signed letter from a medical doctor here stating that Luke may fly on an airplane. We saw a pediatrician here Tuesday (6/5/18) for his one-week check-up. She said he “looks perfect” and we “just need to fatten him up a bit”. He has gained one pound since his birth and is eating like a champ (90-100ml every four hours or so). Still, she would not sign the letter giving Luke medical clearance at that appointment because of his young age. The pediatrician was willing to do so if I brought him back for a weight check on Friday morning (6/8/18). I will gladly jump through that hoop if it gets Luke and me home. We don’t want any unexpected or unwanted excitement at the airport.

I should have been more specific in my previous sentence. In other words, I should have said that I didn’t want any unexpected or unwanted excitement AT ALL. Because that is exactly what we experienced that very morning at the hotel.

unexpected and unwanted excitement

Right after I finished feeding Luke his 8:30am bottle, the fire alarms went off throughout the entire hotel. Fortunately, I have been trained with enough fire drills at various hospitals, schools and nursing homes that my body went into autopilot. As a result, I knew exactly what to do. I grabbed Luke and my backpack (doubling as my purse and a diaper bag). I also made sure I had the room key and my cell phone. Then I bolted for the nearest stairwell to get us safely outside.

Turns out somebody burnt toast and set off the fire detector in the first floor community kitchen area. No harm done, but as a result my adrenaline levels stayed way up for the rest of the morning. Oh, and Luke slept in my arms through the whole thing – not one little peep.

In contrast, I am not as rested as my little pal. Here is a selfie from right before the fire alarm – I look wiped out, don’t I? THAT photo is never going onto social media.

No sleep.
No make-up.
Zero clue of the pending alarm.

Ha! Ironically, that same photo is now shared publicly with anyone around the world reading our blog. I declared I want the thankful bee to be authentic and humble, right? That photo will certainly keep me humble.

lunch with a side of tissues, please

Luke and I are driving about one hour north on Friday to have lunch with Nadine so she can say good-bye. Our adoption coordinator will be with us as well. As joyful as I am to bring Luke home as a future Holderby, I am sensitive to Nadine’s (and Luke’s) loss. She seems to feel positively about the adoption plan. For instance, she already refers to me as Luke’s mom. Even more touching, she has said numerous times that she “knew Luke was home” as soon as she saw the first picture of Allan and me with him in the NICU.

I really respect Nadine for making hard choices to do what is best for Luke at great cost to her own feelings. We have texted with each other a few times this past crazy week, and we are both planning to have plenty of tissues on hand Friday. She already feels like part of our family, too.

peaceful rest

To close, several of you have asked how you can specifically pray for me right now. Fear and anxiety needs to stay away, and peaceful rest needs to take over. Even a few hours of non-fitful sleep would do me a world of good. I will never be able to express to all of you how much your prayers mean. Just knowing that there is an army of support back home lifting us up helps me feel less vulnerable. I am taking it all one hour at a time – whatever the immediate next step needs to be.

Keep the encouragement coming our way​​, friends!

With much love, Melissa

Featured image by Thanks for your Like • donations welcome from Pixabay.

Our sixth and final blog post in this series will come to you on December 27th. Then we start a new track to ring in the new year. Please join us! All are welcome!

About the Author Melissa Holderby

Wife. Mother. Friend. Daughter. Sister.
Spiritual warrior. Outgoing introvert.
A beautiful mess.

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