Pushing 30

...or at least that's what I've been telling myself for the past many months. I turned 28 on November 19th and this past year is the first time I've ever "felt" my age. There are days I look at the veins on the backs of my legs and think, "How did this happen?" Whenever I brush my teeth, I have to use lukewarm, yes LUKWARM water. I distinctly remember questioning my mother's need to use anything other than ice cold water because of her teeth's sensitivity. And what am I dealing with now? Extremely sensitive teeth. I have never had trouble healing from cuts or bruises, but now it takes MONTHS to completely heal and even then I have very obvious scars like never before.

My poor body just isn't what it used to be. In many ways I am shocked at how quickly things have changed. But most of the time I'm thankful for the growth that comes with experience (and apparently crazy leg veins. I refuse to utter the words, "spider veins.")

Kevin and Melanie Eccles || Cliff, Tara, Catherine, Jacob and Sarah Thom ||
Randy, Sheryl, Ashlyn, Brendan (not pictured), Madison and Jillian LeBaron

This particular "birthday party" evolved from a simple dinner invitation. I wanted to make an early birthday dessert to share and then I asked if I could invite more friends. Before I knew it I had planned my own party. Oh well. Thanks, friends, for not razzing me about it (*cough cough* except for Randy. ;)). It was fun being in a house full of awesome kids who made me their own special birthday cards, eating a delicious pot roast dinner together, indulging in my favorite sweets without the guilt, and laughing hysterically during a rowdy game of Apples to Apples. You people get me.

Even beyond the food and gifts, I was deeply grateful to spend my birthday celebration with some dear friends and their families. I love that age differences no longer keep girls from being best friends. (Thank you both for loving me and listening to me and sharing with me, with no consideration of my age. I respect you, admire you, trust you, and value you.)

Tara, Sheryl, Mel

Dear Child of Mine, 

I hope you can join in the fun soon! (Also, I'm only getting older. You're going to have to peel me off the floor if you wait much longer.) I promise that you're going to be so loved by these people and so many more. 

Waiting for you, 

Mama



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To Beat or Not to Beat [The Strawberry]

Saturday, June 8th marked my second Strawberry Festival 5k Race in Albion, New York. 

Last year, there were 150 runners in the 5k division. This year there were 207.
Last year, there were 30 Run for God participants. This year there were at least 60 or 70.
Last year, my husband was waiting at the 1 mile mark shouting out times to the races. This year, Kevin was a runner.

Yes, my husband ran a race with me, friends. Yes, I was thrilled and so so proud of him. No, I will never urge him to run again. He has given it a great effort and if he decides to run in the future it will be all him. No more pushing from the wife in the peanut gallery.

The colorfully attired group of Run for God Racers

Circled up for prayer.

I was anxious all week about the race, mostly because I had a really great finish last year and I wanted to PR but wasn't sure I could. I have become a much more controlled runner since enlisting the help of my Garmin Forerunner 305 GPS watch. I strive to keep my pace steady and mile splits negative - a far cry from my last year's race with the first mile at 7 minutes and mile two close to 9. eeek.

Oh yeah, and last year I puked 4 times as I approached the finish line. People remember this stuff. And as good of story as it is (really, I love telling it with gusto!), I was really really hoping I wouldn't feel like barfing. Because that's just miserable. Besides being pretty darn embarrassing.

The shot gun went off and I hit my stride easily. Thankfully I wasn't as nervous as I thought I might be. It's hard not to fly up to top speeds during that first 5 minutes when the Speedy Gonzaleses of the course blow by you at 5-minute-mile paces. But I controlled my tempo.



Around the half mile mark, my friend Sheila tapped me on the shoulder and I grabbed her hand and said, "I'll stick with you!" I was suddenly overtaken by emotion, feeling so thankful to have a friend who could run my pace and keep me sane during those miles. Tears welled in my eyes.

Last year, those last two miles were lonely and painful. This year, I had friendly competition, company, and encouragement. "To God be the glory!" Sheila said.

We stuck together at a steady 7:40 pace throughout, despite some pain and a wave or two of nausea. We told each other it would be fine if either of us felt the need to slow down or speed up, separating.

Finally at the last half mile, I felt a burst of energy and took off ahead of Sheila, finishing just 16 seconds ahead of her.

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I managed not to puke all over the place, as close as a call as it was during that final uphill climb. I couldn't push it out with a sprint at the end, because I wasn't willing to barf. Thankfully, and to God be the glory, I finished THREE SECONDS faster than last year's time!! It doesn't seem like much, but in the running world (and to me!) it's a victory nonetheless!



My handsome husband finished spot on his goal time of 35 minutes, and the tears flowed as I saw him coming up State St. I ran up to meet him and then let him continue to the finish line on his own. He did a great job and hasn't suffered any serious pain or injury. He even stopped just before the end to help comfort one of the teens who had stopped to throw up. He is such a great guy.

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It was fantastic to have my Grams and Chuck along with dear friends, Lou and Jeri at the second mile marker cheering us on! I love to see familiar faces when I race.

And then there was my momma, cheering like a pro at the finish line for every single runner. Yes, mom, you deserve a medal for "Best Cheerleader." Thanks to all three of you for coming out to support us on a rainy, chilly, early morning.

Sheila and I both placed FIRST in our perspective age groups and were totally pumped about our wins!

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In the complete Race Results, I discovered I finished 4th overall for females and Sheila came in 5th! I am so proud of us both and still SO THANKFUL for a running partner so matched with my tempo. God is good, even in these little things.



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My Multitude of Children

Seeing as how it's Mother's Day, I thought I would share some pictures of the children God has blessed me with over the past 5 years. Though I may not yet (or ever) have biological children of my own, my life is rich, filled with dozens of kids who become an integral part of my heart's beating. I love each of these fiercely, with a passion and protectiveness that mirrors a mother's. And from their own lips these beautiful children reciprocate this relationship with me as they tell me how much they love me or when they ask me to fill in as their mom in a classroom activity or by writing me Mother's Day cards.

Last year was a darker, more painful encounter with Mother's Day, being reminded of what I don't have, but today I am grateful to be relying more closely on the fullness of Jesus and recognizing the multitude of blessings He has poured out on me.

These sweet girls are somehow like daughters and sisters to me.

My three T kids, who I mothered for two weeks in March

My Maddie on her birthday

My Kate, Viv, Olivia, Riley

My massive family with whom I spent those 3 beautiful years with in Michigan

A return Michigan visit with those Crazy Kids.

For two years, I have spent my Thursday Morning with these lovelies
(babysitting at Morning Moms.)

My Michigan Heartbeat

My precious Jillian

My sweet Amelia baby, born the day we moved to NY, we have a beautiful bond.

My Tess, Calandra, Arella and Catherine. Such sweet spirits. 

My Tilly, Hailey, Riley, and KayKay. Love them in my life. 

And to the mothers of all of these beautiful children of mine, thank you so much for sharing their lives with me. I am sure it's not easy to allow another woman to pour into your baby's life and become deeply connected with them. But you let me in, you encourage me along the way, and I feel so loved and appreciated by each of you. 

---------

Lest I not to mention how thankful I am for the two moms I have, I am reflecting on the truth of the words I  wrote three years ago. Read here.

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Eleven Lessons Learned in 11 Days of Parenting

From Tuesday evening, March 11th to Friday evening, March 22nd, we were entrusted with the care of 3 children while their parents went on their first-ever private vacation (to Hawaii!). Their kids are Catherine-13, Jacob-10, and Sarah-6. We moved ourselves into their house, which helped keep their lives relatively similar to when Mommy and Daddy are home. I was fully confident that Kevin and I could handle this task, but I was a bit overwhelmed with the time demand, wasn't sure how my husband would manage while I had pit orchestra practice from 4-8pm every day during the second school week, and was praying these children wouldn't suffer from overwhelming mommy-missing.

Praise the Lord, all went wonderfully. No, that doesn't mean the kids were angels for their special long-term caregivers. In fact, there were daily discipline issues. But Kevin and I learned a lot during these weeks. We learned how to communicate and stay on the same page (especially when those kids are trying to pit us against each other). We learned how to discipline out of love, yet with firmness. We learned which things are important to us -- like sharing meals together, praying before we eat each meal, respecting the one who cooks a meal, having children honor the authority of whichever parent is handling the situation.

Besides those important lessons here are just 

{Eleven Lessons Learned in 11 Days of Parenting}

1) Six year old girls really REALLY hate having their hair brushed. It's like you're trying to torture them within an inch of their lives. 

2) I now understand why some moms despise school vacations so much. Having those kids, particularly the young ones, at your feet all. day. long. asking for this and that and the other thing is just draining. 

popcorn and SkipBo together before bedtime.

3) It's amazing how much you can get done by 8:25 in the morning. I would wake up at 5:50am. Work out for a half hour. Shower. Kids were up by 6:15, eating breakfast on their own/with Kevin's help. I would force Sarah to brush her hair, say goodbye to Catherine as she headed to the Middle School bus at 7:15, make sure Jacob and Sarah had brushed their teeth, help Sarah get on a reasonable outfit for the day (it's outstanding how much convincing was necessary to put on a clean pair of underwear every morning), do a load or two of laundry, eat my own breakfast while playing 4 rounds of the Matching Game with the two kids, clean up the kitchen from breakfast, bundle everyone up, and head out to the bus at 8:20. Not too shabby. 

4) It's possible to do everything we need to do AND do everything the kids need AND have a bit of down time just-the-two-of-us at the end of the evening. Even during the week of my pit orchestra rehearsals until 8:00pm, when we still had to get the kids home, un-wound, teeth brushed, tucked in, tickled, and prayed with, we managed to have fun times with those three and with just each other. I was genuinely shocked. 

5) Those big, beautiful child eyes are insanely hard to say, "No" to sometimes. 

Sarah Bug as we called her.

6) Whenever possible, don't take the kids shopping with you. You will inevitably buy more than you wanted to or be forced to deal with I didn't get what I want temper tantrums. 

7) My husband astounded me with his fatherly capabilities. I knew he would be a good dad, but man-o-man, he's going to be a fantastic father! He had this incredible capacity to discipline the children with definitive firmness (but not harshness), and be back to snuggling with them moments later. They respected him, responded to his discipline, and still loved him. 

8) We will always prefer driving our awesome little 5-speed '98 Honda Civic over a spacious mini-van (even with the cd player, leg room, and air conditioning). I don't look forward to the day it's a necessary commodity. 

9) It's important to incorporate those little hands in your daily tasks. Giving them responsibilities, telling them, "I need you to be in charge of this for me," empowers them to be awesome and even exceed your expectations. 

10) You can have genuine FUN with your children. It's a huge chore and a constant demand, for sure, but it's a wonderful, joyous gift to spend time with them. The toughest part is balancing saying, "Yes, I'll play with you"  with needing a) time to yourself or b) time to accomplish x, y, and z. Playing with them brings so much joy and connection for both of you, but it's ok to send them off on their own and teaching them how to entertain themselves. 

Kevin constructing the awesome blanket fort Friday night

11) We have WAY more time in our days than we ever realized. It's amazing how many more hours open up when you're suddenly filled up with responsibilities. Priorities are made, a goal-focused mind is set, and you still have time for devotions and a bit of Dr. Who with your husband before bed. :) 

Though we're happy to be back to our just-the-two-of-us routine, we're now confident that one day we will be able to handle the responsibility of parenthood and still make time for ministry, community service, personal fitness, and husband and wife time. I am thankful to Tara and Cliff for entrusting us with their babies for this amount of time and for empowering us to discover what we're truly capable of.

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Bringing "Hostess" to a Different Level

Sometimes I feel like I'm not really an adult because 90% of my life is spent with teenagers. And quite frankly, dear friends, I love it that way. It's hard not to compare my life to other adult friends, to see how many real-live-grown-ups they have over for dinner on a regular basis. I convince myself that I'm missing the mark. After all, we don't have adults over very often - definitely not as often as a ministry couple should. 

Or should we? 

Who am I to try to rearrange the life God has called me to live? The one where I have 12 teenagers over for 2 hours every Monday afternoon, for a thing called Book Club, but where it becomes a time to laugh and love and be together. Or the one where I look forward to my Thursday nights, when a group of 5 dear high school girls cozy up on my couches, drink tea together, and share the deeper aspects of life as a godly girl. Or the spur of the moment mornings when we invite the whole slew of teens to come over for pancakes. Or how every Sunday morning, right after church, I fly out the door to unlock my house so our teen Sunday School class can pile in and enjoy learning and eating and listening in a more comfortable environment? (My house is NOT big people. It's actually quite tiny. But I've had as many 18 teens squeeze into the living room and dining room.) Oh, right! And every Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday afternoons I have student after student (and sometimes their friends and a lot of times their families) filing in and out of my living room for piano lessons. And let me tell you that my job as a piano teacher is SO MUCH MORE than a job. It's a joy, a ministry. 

Am I more comfortable hosting teenagers in my home than adults? Yes. Does that mean I'm behind in my duty as pastor's wife? No. Am I strange for having honest-to-goodness inhibitions about having "grown ups" over versus teens? Perhaps. Do I need to get over that? Maybe. 

But I'm gonna go ahead and say with absolute freedom and conviction that I am proudly fulfilling the role Christ has called me to - which, for now, is ministering to teenagers. And call me crazy, but I love 'em. 

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km photography | Josh & Amanda's Wedding

Back in December we had the awesome opportunity to photograph Josh & Amanda's wedding. This lovely couple became friends of ours during our time in Monroe, Michigan as we shared lives in a small group, lead the youth ministry together, and went on a few double dates. In November 2011, we made the trip from our newly settled New York home to Monroe to shoot their engagement photos. A few months later we were honored to be asked to be their wedding photographers.

December 21st, 2012 (12-21-12) was a freezing cold day with gusty winds and a temperature that made outdoor photos questionable. Both Amanda and I were pushing for outdoors (I shoot much better in natural light), so we gave it a go. My toes ended up slightly numb (she traded shoes with me at the end! The girls were wearing Ugg boots for these pictures.), and I'm pretty sure the girls were frozen despite their adorable black shrugs, but it was a success. 

I loved being behind the scenes with the bridesmaids as they got dolled up for the big event. It was such a great way to help out as I could and get to know each girl better. Knowing your photo subjects makes photography that much easier (and way more fun!) 

Kevin and I both had a blast at this all-day event. It was great spending all that time with Josh & Amanda  on this momentous occasion and I hope they feel the same. Thanks, guys, for this opportunity and for your business! 

Here are few favorites from that special day together.

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Ice Cream Date with a 6 Year Old

And now for something completely different....

As a fun change of pace from the past few posts full of difficulty and challenge, I wanted to share with you the fun evening I had with a very special 6 year old.  Miss Madison and I used to spend a lot of time together when she was still a preschooler last year. Her mommy (aka my bff, Sheryl) and I would go grocery shopping together or spend a morning talking, but I always made sure to make time for Maddie. We would play Barbies or a game of Hi Ho Cherrio and have a grand old time together. 

Well, nowadays, Maddie (who has decided she wants to be called "Madison") is halfway through her year in kindergarten, and she's always mentioning how she misses spending time with me. I've even heard her say, "But Jillian [her 3 year old sister] gets to spend all the time with Melanie!" 

This sets the stage for Madison's 6th birthday party. I was the one "friend" she was inviting to her party in addition to her family, and Madison called me a couple hours before the big evening to ask me to come over early and play with her. How sweet! We had just enough time for her to beat in me in a round of "Spot It" AND half a game of Phase 10. (no joke!) 

I knew there were many gifts I could buy Maddie that would make her very happy, but I decided to be different this time. I wrote out a gift certificate that said: 

This gift card is presented to Madison and is good for one ice cream date with Melanie. 

She was THRILLED! 

A few days later I picked her up and we headed to Coldstone together. 

check out the perfect height of that "Peek Thru" window! 

Madison picked out the peanut butter cup creation--sweet cream ice cream with real peanut butter, peanut butter cups and fudge mixed in! (that's my first favorite choice at Coldstone!)

happy girls

I decided to get the dark chocolate peppermint ice cream with brownies and fudge. Yes, it was delicious!

As we talked, we got on the subject of American Girl dolls. I told her all about my Samantha doll and I could tell she was eager to meet this special doll. I brought her back to my house and pulled the box from the back of the closet. Madison's eyes lit up when she saw how pretty Samantha was and quickly went to work deciding which outfit she should change into. 

I told Madison how I hoped to give my doll (whom I've had for 16 years now!) to my daughter one day, and she conveniently slipped this gem of a comment in the conversation. "Well, if you ever decide to give her away, you could give her me." Ok, Maddie, I'll remember that. :) 

Maddie was really enjoying her ice cream!

I'm glad the two of us had this special time together. I think these memories are something that will stick with us both. (Unlike that ice cream. Except maybe that's what I'm seeing on my hips....)

Does Giving Birth Make a Girl a Woman?

I had gathered with a large number of wonderful ladies and we were going around introducing ourselves. As part of the "about me" sentence, it was suggested that we share how many children we have and how old they are. Of all the women in the room (some younger than me), I was the only one childless. I held it together, but that moment of "I'm Melanie, and I don't have have any children" was raw and painful and even embarrassing. Did I belong?

Later that day, one of my friends, knowing my struggle, pondered, "When did our children become our identity?" A good question, indeed. 

For years now, I have wondered if I would ever been seen as a grown woman--adult, independent, responsible, able. I look young for my age (as in I am mistaken for a teenager on a weekly basis), so this doesn't help my case. But I have been on my own for nearly 10 years. Four and a half of those, I have been married, and together we've maintained a home, jobs, and a bank account. But I still feel like an "outsider" so often. 

So much of women's conversation revolves around their children; and for a good reason. I understand that being a mother does become much of a woman's identity and that her love for her babies is unmatched. But I can't participate in those discussions. I smile, of course, and I truly do enjoy hearing about my friends' children. I love playing with their kids, being called "My Melanie" by those little ones who love me dearly, seeing photo updates of their growth and reading stories of hilarious antics. 

But, no matter how welcoming my friends are & no matter how much I love being with them and their children, nothing can offer me entrance into the sacred club of motherhood other than a child of my own. 

And so, I remain the babysitter, the onlooker, the dreamer. 

How can I change the world's perception of me? Can I be a woman--fully alive, not lacking purpose-- even if I never have children? You might say, "But of course I see you as a peer, Melanie, as a friend." But there's nothing either of us can do to change the gap that exists. 

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Another Year Before Testing

Continued from Wednesday's post.


...And for the next 12 months, the lab requisitions stayed at the bottom of our metaphorical pile. We were in a new state, trying to make new friends, living with no health insurance. As upset as I was that we weren't conceiving, beginning the hunt for a good doctor, then paying for tests and treatments, and dealing with medical expenses and painful rigmarole just didn't seem feasible. In fact, it seemed insurmountable. 

Some friends couldn't understand how we were putting off this decision. Why wait to get some simple lab work done? What if it's a simple fix? I could totally understand their questions. I had similar thoughts floating around my brain. 

It was becoming clear that for as much as I wanted to start our family, or even just to know if it was going to be possible, we were becoming more and more content with how thing were. Just us. No strings attached. And I think there is a fear that still lingers--fear of the unknown, how things will change, what will be given up. Answers we can't know until that precious moment is granted us. 

But soon I realized I needed to have my yearly gyn appointment, at the very least. I did some asking around for names of doctors and finally settled on an office. I made my appointment, not knowing if I had made the right choice in a physician or not. When I left the exam room that day, I said, "That was the BEST doctor's appointment I have ever had." The exam only took 10 minutes, but she sat down and talked to me for at least 45 minutes more, finding out our story and talking about possible fertility solutions. She gave me laboratory requisitions--one for me, one for Kevin--with instructions on which hospitals to call. Additionally, she wrote a request for an HSG Fluoroscopy, a pricey procedure that was optional but would give us great insights into the workings of my organs. 

In true Kevin-and-Mel form, we put these procedures off, but only for a month this time. Both of us got our lab work done--with no questionable results to concern us. Yay! We knew we couldn't afford to get the  fluoroscopy procedure done at this point, so we were blessed beyond belief when a loved one offered to pay for the $800 x-ray. After a 15 minute procedure that was much quicker and MUCH MORE painful than I had anticipated, we already had our answers--my insides looked A-ok. 

Our wonderful doctor called me the next week to follow up on the exam results and, in doing so, ended up saving us the $100 office visit fee. Another gift! She said there were no issues with any of our tests so to give it two more months and come back for a follow-up if we hadn't yet conceived. 

Which brings us to the present. 

---
read more about our journey through infertility. 

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The One with the Full House

This month has been filled with quality friends-and-family time, and my cup is overflowing.

One wonderful occasion was in a town west of Chicago--yes, an 11 hour drive--to finally attend our college friends' annual holiday gathering. There is something special andtotally unmatched about the friendships formed during those four years of higher education. Living with friends, seeing each other at the best of times and worst of moments, cultivates relationships that are rivaled only by family. I experienced the best jolt as more and more of us filled Chris & Katie's beautiful home. I was reminded of the dearness of these relationships and the strength of college friendships that are hardly diminished over years and miles. 

The "Family" Portrait 2012

When all of the guys were all together again, I was nearly brought to tears. It was such a wonderful sight to behold. And I am lucky enough to say that these boys men were my friends and not just friends-of-my-boyfriend. That first year of college I spent a lot of time visiting Kevin in his dorm; that meant hanging out with his guy friends. Ben, Gavin, Matt, Kevin, and Mel were something of a family unit that year. The next year we added Dave, Chris, Nick, Adam, Geoff & Tyler to the mix. And the rest is [mostly] history. Those boys talked with me as their friend, shared with me, and didn't exclude me from games of frisbee. They wanted me to hang out with them, to play video games with them, to listen to them (because we all know other guys aren't always the best listeners.) Those boys grew up and became godly men who stood beside us at our wedding. Many of them  have married lovely wives of their own, all work solid jobs and lead in their churches. As I was honestly sharing my fears and inhibitions with all 15 of these friends in a Facebook message window, everyone quickly said, "We'll do anything to make you feel comfortable enough to come. We want you & Kevin here." And I knew they meant it. 

Thank you, friends, for loving me for the past 9 years. I look forward to many more times together. 

27 of us filling 3 long tables for dinner!

Supportive Listening

While having a really wonderful conversation with a really wonderful friend, I realized what a precious gift my husband gives to me every time I share my hair-brained ideas with him. I am the type of person who always has thoughts of the next thing or a great idea floating around in my head. *pop pop pop* 

The best way I can process my brainstorms is by talking through them, which means I have to trust a person enough to share my very roughly drafted ideas with them before they have even begun to be fleshed out. This is a risky move, as some of you might understand. The recipient of said "brilliant" idea could easily respond with pessimism masked in pragmatism. 

Well, what about this? Have you thought about that?

No, I most certainly have not! I am just sharing my stream-of-consciousness thoughts with you and I would just like to hear something more encouraging or at least engaged listening. 

Yeah, I can really picture that. You should go with that vision, it has potential. 

And my dear, darling husband is so incredibly supportive and I don't know that I ever recognized it before tonight. I am constantly brainstorming with him and I don't think he's EVER, in 8 years, shot one of my ideas down. He may nod along, ask questions, give encouragement, or just let me talk. 

But you know what, that's exactly what I need. 

Catching Up with My Longest Friend

This past Monday my best-friend-since birth made a stop in our quaint little village to visit with Kevin and me. She, along with her husband and their adorable almost-four-year-old son, had been traveling the New England countryside for the past few days and had made plans to drive a bit out of their way to stop at our house. I was beyond thrilled. 

It's not often enough that Elizabeth and Melanie get to be together again. In the good 'ol days of our youth, if we weren't at home we were together. Our parents parented both of us. Our siblings were quite indistinguishable. We spent hours playing Barbies, talking about American Girl dolls and listening to Michael W. Smith. We were Sunday School buddies, VBS leaders, and youth group attenders. We stayed up too late watching Mrs. Doubtfire, I threw up at her house on more than one homesick occasion, and she choked down a green bean that my parents forced upon her. And, in case the message wasn't clear in the introduction, we were literally friends from birth. Our moms were in the same birthing class together way back in 1985. Yep. No kidding. 

The great part about our friendship is that, though it's been nearly 10 years since we were the inseparable pair, we've maintained our connection. Roots. Through her marriage, my leaving for college in Michigan, the birth of her son, my wedding day, her new jobs, my various ministry callings, their first (and second) home, our move to New York. Still friends. Forever. 

Our visit in our cozy living room was easy and comfortable. Some laughter interspersed with deeper conversation, funny comments from little Owen, and stroll to the Erie Canal. After getting to spend more time together than we had hoped for, we even got to share lunch together at the local family restaurant. 

The goodbyes left me wishing we were next door neighbors. Maybe someday. 

Stopping for Thanks

I love....

when your best friend has your thoughts exactly and stops over for a visit. 

snuggling with my cat on the couch.

watching season 1 of Once Upon a Time on Netflix. I am currently addicted.

making myself pancakes and eggs for lunch when husband is gone for the day. 

sharing frosted pumpkin-shaped sugar cookies with my piano students. 

late evening prayer with a dear friend. 

showing your best-friend-from-birth and her lovely little boy and her husband around our town.

hearing about my husband's dream from the night before. 

having a lap full of babies.

seeing the sun poke through the dark, uniquely autumn sky. 

reading the latest Runner's World magazine. 

feeling stirring and upheaval by the words in a book written for teens. Do Hard Things. Am I? 

What are you loving on this Fall day? 

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My First Half Marathon

I had been preparing for this day since the beginning of July--The Mighty Niagara Half Marathon (for hospice). Week after week I followed my training schedule, running something like 3 miles Monday, 5 miles Tuesdays, 4 miles Thursday, with a long run on Friday or Saturday. My long runs started at 6 miles (since that was my base prior to training) and built up one mile at a time each week. I achieved the 13 mile distance at the end of August and for the next few weeks began tapering--a 12 mile September 7th, an 8 mile the week after, and finally resting up with a 5 mile run 2 days before the race. 

I was ready. 

My mom and dad had been excited about my race and I invited them to join in on the fun. The world of runners is a microcosm that cannot be explained, only experienced, and my parents were looking forward to being a part of my big day. After an evening of games with mom, dad, Kevin, Randy, and Sheryl (and some competitive banter between myself and Randy), we all hit the sack early Friday night. 

Saturday morning dawned cold, windy, rainy, and just plain depressing. I do not enjoy running in the rain. I have tried to be whimsical and go for a fun run in the rain, but it's never fun for me. Thus, the morning's weather was a source of major frustration and disappointment. I kept praying and praying that the Lord would clear the skies and calm the winds. 

We carpooled to Lewiston, NY with the other half marathon trainees from our church's Run for God group and arrived with plenty of time to register, use the bathroom too many times, and take a pre-race group photo. 

Back Row: Brian, Jack, Matt, Mickey, Wayne, Tom
Front Row: Tom, Melanie, Sheryl

It was finally race time. We took our places in the sea of 900+ runners, half of the guys near the front and Sheryl, me, Brian, Wayne, Mickey, and Jack at the back of the group. I wanted to start out with my friends to ease my nerves and keep me from gunning it out of the start gate. My strategy worked! Not only was I more relaxed and even laughing, but the rain suddenly stopped my goose-bumped arms were warm again! Praise the Lord. 

I spent the first 2 miles with my friends, keeping my mood light, but soon I felt the urge to push ahead and increase my speed. I gradually began the process of working my way through the mass of runners, enjoying the sounds of their conversations and the sights of the lovely towns through which we were running. 

Mile after mile there was always something to keep my mind entertained. Bands played with enthusiasm every couple miles, there were water/Gatorade stations (where I nearly always choked--it's hard to run and drink simultaneously), guys who would take off for the nearest patch of trees for a bathroom break--rendering the nearest ladies full of laughter (and maybe some jealously!), and supporters filling the sidewalks. The air was ringing with their cheers and enthusiastic encouragement. 

I kept looking for our crew of cheerleaders--Kevin, Randy, dad, and mom--but by mile 6 hadn't seen them yet. Just then, I passed through the quaint town of Youngstown and it was just the boost I needed. The people were flooding the streets, cheering loudly, and even offering high fives as we passed. I was feeling good as I approached mile 7 and there, off in the distance, was my cheering section! Dad and Mom high fived me, Randy was videotaping, and Kevin was taking pictures and loudly yelling, "GOOD JOB EVERYBODY! BUT GO, MELANIE! I MARRIED HER!"

As I passed them by, my emotions nearly got the best of me and I had to choke back tears. Their presence was overwhelmingly encouraging and I knew I could do this--keep on keeping on (as my husband always says.) 

For the next many miles, a girl with the name "Hillarie" stamped on her back and I kept a silent camaraderie and competition going. She would pass me, I would pass her. We would be side by side. She'd pass, I'd pass. We had nearly the same tempo run and whenever one of us would slow down the other would speed by, thus pushing the other to up the ante. At one point, I heard her talking to a friend of hers and say, "Right now we're running an 8:30 and we're on target to finish in 2 hours." Oh man! I was going to stick with Hillarie. I couldn't let her out of my sight. I fell pretty far behind her at one point, but I gradually worked my way back and kept the lead for the final few miles. So thanks, Hillarie, whoever you are, for keeping me going. 

As we turned into the campground where the finish line awaited our grand entrance, a guy was cheering us on and shouting, "Only half a mile to go!" AWESOME! I can totally handle 1/2 a mile. Unfortunately, that guy was way off and it was closer to a mile left to the finish--which is excruciating when you're SO ready to be done. My stomach was churning from the water and Gatorade that was sloshing around, and heck, I'd been running for almost 2 hours--I was pretty beat. Just as I was praying, "Lord, please don't let me throw up. Please, Lord." (yes it was that desperate), my phone beeped with a text message notification. Elizabeth--my best friend from infancy--wrote, "You just came to mind at this moment and I wanted you to know I'm praying for you." 

OH SWEET JESUS that was JUST what I needed most. Thank you, friend, for listening to the Lord's prompting.

After nearly slipping and falling in the muddy woods just prior to the finish, I rounded the corner to hear my name being shouted by church friends, Karen & Denise. I waved and smiled and then caught my husband's eye. He was beaming with pride and I blew him a kiss as I cross the finish line. My mom and dad were there to catch me, and Kevin ran over to hold me up as my knees were nearly collasping under me. My emotions were welling up in my tear ducts but I managed to keep them at bay once again. 

I had FINISHED. and finished well. 

My final chip time was 2:00:47--a time I am completely thrilled with and find hard to believe. I was figuring I'd finish around 2 hours and 15 minutes, so I'll take the just-over-2 hours-finish! My average pace per mile was 9:13 and I honestly think I could run it even faster than that--I didn't want to risk burn out. I finished 4th in our group of 9 (7 of whom are men), 165th out of 627 women, and 45th out of 127 women ages 25-29. I think it's ok to be proud of my finish. I am!

I loved my first half marathon. I loved having my husband and my parents there. I loved finishing. And I love the sweet medal. :)

Sheryl and Mel--best friends, training partners, half marathoners!

My husband was incredibly supportive as I trained and as I raced.
He's always bragging about me. :) 

The group of finishers! 

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Girls Getaway

My dear friend, Sheryl, has birthday coming up and I decided to do something extra special for her. With the help of her husband (mostly his agreement to watch the 4 kids for 48 hours straight), I arranged a Girls Getaway Weekend for the two of us. Our friendship is so special to me, and I was looking forward to having this quality time together. But even beyond that, Sheryl has spent the last 8 months taking care of everyone, working tirelessly to tend to the needs of her children, her husband, her mother-in-law. I was hoping she would be able to relax and rest and rejuvenate in a unique way that wouldn't be possible in her own home. (You know how it is, ladies? Resting at home is so hard when the laundry is screaming your name, the kids are bickering, meals need to be made.)

And so, at 4:00 on Thursday afternoon we hit the NY thruway for our trip west--my parents' house. They graciously opened their home to us, took us out to eat, spoiled us with special goodies, let us sleep in. Sheryl and I were not only able to visit with my parents and both of my grandparents (including a few rousing games of Farkle!), but we laid on the beach of Lake Erie for almost 3 hours, slumber-partied-it-up in our shared double bed late into the evening, giggled like school girls when the exhaustion got to us, shopped in Erie and had a nice lunch together at Hoss's. And for all those days our well of conversation never seemed to run dry.

Thankful for sweet friendship, appreciative of the gift of time together, and wishing Sheryl a happy birthday (on Monday.)  

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A Lifestyle of Togetherness

I have decided--I'm better suited to host or plan things last minute. This avoids the days or weeks of planning and dreading and building up of stress. It makes the event more "life style togetherness" and not as much "this is a super special once in a lifetime opportunity." I feel we shouldn't put off being together for the sake of perfect evenings with pristine hostessing. We should just BE together. No pretenses, no expectations. 

Come, as you are, into my house, as it is, and eat my food, whatever it may be. 

I am the type to get easily worked up and stressed out of every little detail. Even a casual invitation to someone's house might bring anxiety into my heart. So I've been being intentionally spontaneous lately. I know, that doesn't make any sense--it's actually more of an oxymoron. But it's what I need to do. 

And it's been working! Sunday morning I thought, "We should have steak and mashed potatoes for lunch. Yum. Ooh. We have a gigantic sirloin strip steak that we should share with someone. Wait, though, I didn't plan ahead to invite anyone or have food ready to go! Oh, I'll just go for it."  And so, after church, I invited the LeBaron clan of 6 over for steak, hotdogs, green beans, and mashed potatoes. Everything turned out well, we enjoyed one another's company, and it was a pretty darn easy "event." Love that! 

This morning, I went to a friend's house for coffee and banana bread at 7:30am. It was a nice treat, a wonderful way to start my day. 

We should all do these little things more often--live a lifestyle of togetherness. 

The One with the Longest Run Yet

The long run.

It's a newer venture for me as I am training for the Mighty Niagara Half Marathon (for hospice) on September 22nd. Eight years ago when I began this running thing, I never imagined I would ever in a million years be able to run 13.1 miles straight--let alone in a race. But after today, I see the destination and it's just a short mile away. 

For the past many weeks, I've been building my weekly mileage with a weekend long run. I started with 6 miles, as that was a pretty routine long run for me, and built from there. Today, I completed twelve miles! And let me tell you, running all but three of them along with my friend, Sheryl, makes them so much more attainable. (In case you don't know, it takes 2 or more hours to finish that many miles, and that's a long time to be out by yourself. Having someone to chat with makes it infinitely happier.) 

The crazy part of long runs for me is that around mile 6 I get a second wind. I feel happier, more alert, in a groove, like I could keep going and going for miles.

Running seems to be almost entirely a mental sport.
If you think you should be out of breath, you will be.
If you think you can't keep going, you won't.
If you think, the pain is too bad, you'll give up.
If you think the distance is overwhelming, it is.

But the great part is, the reverse is true as well.
If want to keep going, you will.
If you decide to settle in for the long haul, you'll do it.
If you don't think about how many miles are ahead of you, you won't get psyched out.

It's a beautiful thing when you can control your mind by taking every thought captive. 

Running is a beautiful metaphor for the Christian faith. All of those mental games cross over into the faith arena as well, especially for these long runs. If you prepare your mind, your heart and your body for a long journey, you will most certainly overcome the obstacles--be they physical or spiritual--that are thrown in your way. In those moments when you recognize the throbbing knees, the tired heart, the sore muscles, the labored breathing, you might be tempted to give up and collapse, but if you embrace the pain as part of the journey you might even come to consider them joy, because you know this testing develops perseverance, which leads to maturity and completion. Victory in crossing the finish line.

And most importantly, if you run the race marked out for you NOT ON YOUR OWN but with Christ alongside you, the journey is much more peaceful.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who, for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
Hebrews 12:1-3

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The One with our Full Year Here

I just can't believe it, but it is most definitely true. Today marks our one year anniversary since moving to Western New York! With tears we said goodbye to our teens and our friends in Michigan, and with the help of those same people as well as our family we loaded a UHaul and drove 7 hours east to a part of New York State that is closer to the Midwest than it is to the city. 

All those days ago sometimes feel like a lifetime--mostly because we've been warmly embraced here, settled comfortably and intimately into our little village, connecting to more people (in and out of the church) than we can count. We've been taken care of in so many ways by our friends here, and we are eternally grateful for the love they've poured on us and that they opened their lives so willingly to us. God is so good. 

And most of the time we forget we got here because of Seminary. It's pretty awesome to see the steps God used to pull us to this place, when we thought the whole point was an MDiv. If it were up to us, we'd had lived near campus and found who knows what jobs. But God is so much cooler than that. He is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us. 

Kevin's grad school is a very important reason we're in New York, of course. He's loving his classes, his professors, his shelves and shelves of rich literature. But our lives are centered around our church, the people, in this little town--his studies in action, really. His responsibilities go well beyond the confines of the youth room, but a passion working with teenagers is one of those things we can't seem to shake. And now, a year later, we feel confident that we're getting somewhere (somewhere good) with these students. It takes a while to build a strong foundation of a relationship, but it's worth it. 

Who would've guessed what the past 365 days would bring for me? 

playing in the high school musical's pit orchestra. 

building a strong piano studio (that has provided income, relationships, and community connections).

leading music at VBS.

traveling to Seattle with a wonderful group of Bible Quizzers. 

hosting my first studio piano recital. 

running my first race. 

blowing my personal best race time out of the water with my second race. 

developing the deepest kind of friendship with a girl named Sheryl. 

going on a family vacation with Sheryl and her siblings and their kids.

And now we look ahead, with eager expectation, knowing that God will continue to do more than we can ask or imagine. Amen.

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The One with the 9 Hour Trip to Family Camp

I am so thankful that in the midst of a wonderfully hectic summer (can I get an "amen"?!), Kevin and I had the opportunity to head to Somerset Beach Campground. This camp has been our home-away-from-home for many years now (8 for me, 25+ for Kevin!). You know those places in your life that act as part of your foundation? where you can step back inside and know you belong? where memories are abundant and new joys are just waiting to be experienced? I love those spots! And SBC is definitely on that list in our lives. 

Our purpose for visiting was threefold. 

A) It was SMCFMC (long, but accurate acronym) Family Camp. We can't miss family camp!

B) Kevin was leading one of the youth "afterglows"--a fun event for all of the teens. 

C) Many of our family and friends would be there. And who doesn't need to reconnect now and again? (Facebook just doesn't cut it. thankfully.)

After a 7 (turned 9) hour drive from NY to MI in 90 (million) degree heat in our efficient (yet un-air conditioned Honda Civic, Kevin and I arrived at site 79--his parents' camp site year after year. We set up our tent with just moments to spare before darkness fell, took much-needed showers, and hit the sack. For the next three days, we enjoyed all of the time we had to catch up with Mom & Dad. (Can I just say how cool it is that the parent-child relationship grows into something so beautifully mutual as we grow older? I really love it. And yes, parents-of-teens, there's hope. :D) It's tough being 7 hours away from them now, after having years where we lived just an hour's drive away and saw them frequently. We had a lot of talking to do. :)

Both sets of Kevin's grandparents were at camp as well and they spoiled us with love (and a lunch out at Freddie's Freeze) just as they always do. My bro-in-law, Brian, is officially grown up--he has his own staff trailer on the grounds and is working full time before heading to SAU's campus in the fall. We didn't get to see him as much as usual, but that's what growing up and moving out and having a girlfriend do to you. :)

One of the mornings, we drove into Jackson where Kevin was going to do some work over a Venti Coffee at Starbucks and I was meeting up with these wonderful girls from college.

With Karina in Chicago, Britt in Colorado, me in New York, and the others spread throughout Michigan we don't get together nearly as much as we'd like. But it was a wonderful gift that everyone was willing to rearrange schedules and drive many hours to get together for just a morning. We enjoyed brunch at Panera and then visited for a while longer back at Angie's house. 

One other bonus of being at Family Camp was visiting with some of the teens we'd said goodbye to last August. It was fun hanging out and catching up on their lives. It's astounding to me to see how quickly teenagers grow up and change after just a year. Wow. Plus, we were honored to be asked by Brooke & Alisha to take their senior portraits around the campgrounds. Here are two from the collection: 

Our time at SBC was over far too quickly! But we're thankful for the time we had to reconnect with dear friends, like Sara and Debbie (not to mention meeting their beautiful baby girls), seeing the same familiar faces that grace the grounds during family camp each year, and just enjoying a change in pace for a few days.