Spark a Fire in My Soul

Rachel from Being Made Beautiful is the creator of #12prayers on Instagram: 

“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” – Frederick Buechner
 From a very young age, even before I had a personal relationship with him, God began to grow my heart for adoption and foster care. As far back as I can remember, my family had an open door/heart policy for those in need. My parents consistently displayed compassion and service to those who needed love and family. It was never done through the normal avenues of formal adoption or DSS foster care, but they were clearly taking care of the orphan, the widow, the lonely, the hungry, and the misunderstood.
Again and again, through the choices they’ve made, my parents have demonstrated that God is worth losing our life (time, paycheck, home, energy) in order to truly save it. They were not perfect parents. They did not have a perfect marriage. They were not perfect Christians with a perfect theology, but they did display perfect love through deed and I can’t think of a better lesson for parents to pass on to their children. This gospel of love and mercy displayed to me sparked a desire in my heart to do the same with my life. 

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An Awkward Place In The Middle

Lori is the Owner and Editor of Still Standing Magazine. She is the mom of three little boys: Matthew and Trey in Heaven and Luke–the joy she is privileged to raise. A proud military spouse, she also blogs at

How often is it heard, “I love each of my children equally. Different, but equally.”


So, I don’t understand why some people don’t have that same mentality when children die.

Recently, I was asked to participate in a study on the ‘subculture’ of infertility and pregnancy/infant loss. In answering questions about how I felt about my infertility diagnoses, the loss of my first child, and then another loss after having a healthy, living child, a lot of emotions I’ve not felt in a while were stirred up.

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Salted White Chocolate Reece’s Pieces Popcorn

First, let me introduce myself! I’m Carrie. I have two kids, I live in Dallas, and I blog. I blog about parenting and simple solutions for busy moms (and dads!). Even though I share a lot of food recipes, I have to be honest – I’m no expert in the kitchen, Like, AT ALL. So if you see a recipe on my site, you’ll know that it’s actually easy to make (I promise!).

And this popcorn? It was no exception.

White Chocolate Popcorn

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Zimbabwe Day 1

This evening we made it to Zimbabwe. We’d spent Sunday night on the plane, Monday night in Dubai, and now here (tomorrow night we’ll be in a different hotel as well).

I already love it here. It’s beautiful – a little wind and perfect temps today. It varies between lush green and desert dry, but it looks just like you grow up thinking Africa looks – the flatter topped trees, sunsets that looks like the sky burst into flames. We got in this evening, but took a van to the hotel before it was dark – I couldn’t get any photos that were able to show how beautiful it is. Soon! This is one I got from the van on our way to the hotel.


It reminds me a lot of India here – especially how it smells. Like – kind of a sweet incense mixed with different odors. Not bad, not good, just familiar. It’s odd how 11 years later I can still remember that smell. We went out to dinner with the World Vision Zimbabwe team, the people who live and work here. We were able to hear and talk to the CEO of the Zimbabwe branch, as well as other staff. They were so amazingly wonderful, after just a quick round of introductions we jumped into conversation on maternal and infant health, our own stories, what they specifically do here – like we’ve all known each other for years.

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Sometimes, I Talk to Her

I talked to her tonight. My sweet little baby girl, who was taken too soon last May. After my son, Ricky, fell asleep on the couch and I tucked him in, I ran to the grocery store while my husband waited at home.

As I was driving, I heard something jingling in my purse. It wasn’t a sound I normally hear. And, as with most things out of the ordinary – a unique butterfly, particularly beautiful day or pretty little noise that seems to come out of the blue, it makes me think of her. Like she’s there, next to me, totally aware of what’s going on in our world.

I told her that I love her – more than the moon and the stars – the same thing I tell my little guy when I put him to bed at night. The jingle sounded again, “I know. I’ve been a little hormonal today. You’re right.”

Another jingle. “I love you too. So much.” And then I was there – at the grocery store.

I walked in, picked up something sweet, and started driving home. No more jingling. She was gone.

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