Blake’s words…

On October 30, 2000, I became a daddy for the first time.  Avery was born, and I considered myself the most blessed man in the world.

Avery’s birth began a new chapter in my and Rebecca’s life.  It was a chapter filled with the normal ups and downs of parenthood.  Learning how to adjust to less sleep, changing diapers and the realization that there is no greater responsibility than being a parent.  I remember the simple days of pushing her on the swing, going on walks together and reading to her at night.

As great as this time was, something my father-in-law said the day Avery was born always stuck out to me.  He simply said, “Now that you are a parent, you will know what it means to feel vulnerable.”  At first, his comment struck me as odd.  Several years later, I would feel the impact of his words in a way that I never thought possible.

Fast-forward two years.  Rebecca and I moved back to Dallas, and the Lord blessed us with our second child, a little boy we named Gage.  Just two short years later, Ellie was born.  How could a man be any more blessed?  I was now the proud daddy of three adorable and healthy children.

My children’s health was something I always took for granted.  Sure, they experienced a few bumps and bruises along the way, but nothing too serious.

All of that changed on June 21, 2007.  On that day, I received a phone call from Gage’s pediatrician.  His words are permanently seared in my memory: “Blake, I have the results of Gage’s blood test . . . He has leukemia.”  “Leukemia?” I asked.  “Yes, Blake.  Cancer . . . ” he responded.  My world immediately stood still, and fear gripped my heart.

This began a new chapter in my family’s life.  Very quickly, we were introduced to a world we had never given any serious thought to, the Center for Cancer and Blood Disorders at Children’s Medical Center, Dallas.  Soon, abbreviations like ALL, ANC, 6MP, Dex and LP became a regular part of our vocabulary.  Whether we liked it or not, we were no longer immune to the far-reaching tentacles of cancer.  It wasn’t “someone else’s child” who was sick.  It was my own. And, 3 months into Gage’s treatment, our daughter Wesley was born.  Avery would later make the comment: “God gave us Wesley to cheer us up.”

I remember thinking to myself, how could I have lived in Dallas my whole life and yet been so oblivious to the needs of so many children battling for their lives in the fight against cancer?  Believe it or not, one in four new childhood cancer cases in Texas is treated at Children’s.  Furthermore, more than 90 children undergo treatment for cancer and blood disorders every day at Children’s.

I often compare Children’s Medical Center to the fire department.  You hardly even think about the fire department until it is your family that is in need of help.  Then, when it is your house on fire, you expect the men to be well trained and to have the most up-to-date equipment at their disposal.  When my house “caught fire” with Gage’s diagnosis on June 21, 2007, I was grateful to find Children’s Medical Center just a few miles away from my home.

What I have learned over the past 3 plus years is that, thanks to previous generations of generous donors, Children’s Medical Center is filled with some of the best trained medical staff this world has to offer.  Yet, its facility is maxed out.  Tragically, the number of cancer patients needing care exceeds the space they have to care for children in the best possible manner.

Tonight, we are here first and foremost to celebrate.  To celebrate the closing of a chapter for my family now that Gage is no longer under going the daily grind of chemotherapy.  We are also here to celebrate the love and faithfulness of our friends.  Your support, encouragement, and most of all, your prayers, have sustained us in ways I cannot possibly begin to explain.  And, finally, we are here to ask for your support in an effort to offer hope and a helping hand to families battling childhood cancer.

Over the past three years, you have joined with us to raise over $300,000 for Children’s.  With your help, families like ours have been touched by your generosity through the funding of a full time Child Life Specialist, the clown program and mobile game carts.  These endeavors have all contributed to the emotional and relational needs of patients by providing a “human touch” to a long and grueling protocol of needles and medications.  While you are here this evening, I encourage you to learn more about what we have done by watching the video playing on the screens.

This year, we have the opportunity to do more.  We are asking for your help to raise an additional $100,000 in an effort to expand the Center for Cancer and Blood Disorders.  With your help, the hospital will be able to increase the number of inpatient rooms, relocate the outpatient clinic and complete the construction of a full-service pharmacy for children battling cancer.

Tonight’s event has been completely underwritten by family and close friends so that every dollar you contribute will go directly to the hospital.  Moreover, through the Mabee Foundation challenge grant, a percentage of your contribution will be matched.

Would you please consider making a donation before you leave tonight?  We have made this easy for you to do.  Please take one of the cards in front of you, fill it out and turn it in to any one of the volunteers you see wearing a Children’s Medical Center T-shirt. Or you may visit www.childrens.com/TeamHolmes to make a donation.

What does the next chapter look like for Gage and our family?  Thankfully, he will no longer receive chemotherapy and endure its painful side effects as he has done every day for the past 3 plus years.  Soon, he will enter into Children’s “After the Cancer Experience” Program.  While in this program, he will be closely monitored.  God willing, the cancer will not return.  Two years from now, should he remain cancer free, the doctors will then declare him cured.  As always, we covet your prayers as we enter into this new chapter of our lives.

I hope and pray that your family will never need to enter into the world of pediatric cancer, but if you do, you will be grateful that people chose to give generously so that Dallas could be home to one of the finest pediatric cancer centers in the world.

Today, on several doors outside of patients’ rooms at Children’s you will find plaques with a reference to Habakkuk 3:14-15.  It reads: “Though the fig tree should not blossom, and there be no fruit on the vines, though the yield of the olive should fail, and the fields produce no food, though the flock should be cut off from the fold, and there be no cattle in the stalls, Yet I will exult in the Lord, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation.  The Lord God is my strength, and He has made my feet like hind’s feet, and makes me walk on my high places.”

Thank you for the many ways you have reminded us of this truth, for making an effort to be with us tonight, and for your generous support.

Although we won’t celebrate with all of you until the party on the 26th, we started the party at home on Friday night (the 17th) when Gage took his last dose of chemo. And, his doctor allowed us to take his port out a bit early, so it’s been gone a couple weeks. Thanks to all who called, emailed, texted, sent cookies & balloons and put fun signs in our yard…we loved it all!

Another big part of the celebration was Rebecca racing with 33 friends in the Nation’s Triathlon in Washington DC on Sept. 12th. Our “Racing for Gage” team raised $175,000 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society…and it was an amazing experience.

And, a post-race pic…

I’m sure I’ll share more later about this part of the journey, but for now, I’m too worn out from our weekend!

Thanks so much for continuing to check in and for walking this road with us.

RH

We did our best to find email addresses for everyone, but if we missed yours and you can join us, just email me at rebeccadholmes@sbcglobal.net by Friday, Sept. 10th to let us know you’re coming!

Also, make sure to check out www.childrens.com/TeamHolmes to see what we’re doing now…and when you get there, you’ll see the video below:

After our clinic appointment today, I picked Avery up at school. I know she was, as usual, worried about Gage today because I got an email from her teacher asking for an update so Avery would know when his appointment was finished. So, I emailed an iPhone picture of Gage with a big ‘thumbs up’ to her teacher…who then shared it with Avery. I know that helped her, but I could still see the relief on her face when I picked her up this afternoon. As we shared a big hug, I told her, “Avery, you never have to go to school again when Gage is at Children’s getting chemo.” I know that felt good for both of us.

Please pray for Gage this week as he completes his last week of steroids and extra chemotherapy, and that the nightly chemo he continues until Sept. 17th would go smoothly.

Thanks for checking in, and we hope to see you on the 26th!

RH

RH

I am often asked questions like these right now…”Are you getting excited that Gage is so closed to being finished?” or “Can you believe he’s almost done?” or “It will be here before you know it! How does it feel to be almost finished?”

Like most seemingly simple questions on this journey, the answer from my perspective rarely feels simple.

Daily, I consider these questions and try to figure out how I feel about all of it…and then how to communicate it with others, both in conversation and here on the blog.

There are several thoughts I often return to…

One, waiting for Gage to finish is like waiting for Christmas as a kid. I’m afraid that if I focus on it too much, it will take even longer to get here. I think I’d rather wake up one morning surprised to find that there are only 10 days to go than to count off each day one by one.

Two, there is a lot still to be done before he finishes in mid-September. He starts 2nd grade in August, so I have conversations ahead with his teacher, decisions about how to communicate to the other parents, his decisions about how much to share with his new classmates…and then the challenging daily decision of how much to push him to stay at school when he feels crummy, especially on a steroid week.

Three, starting to celebrate means that I let my guard down a bit to feel more each day. For the past three years (longer than I really thought possible), I’ve often felt very little. I’ve just tried to keep focused on knowing how Gage was feeling, doing what I could do to help, communicating his challenges to our team at Children’s, keeping up with his medicines, keeping an eye out for any new side effects…and trying to help our three girls feel like I love them just as much, even if my time and attention seem more focused on Gage at times. To ‘feel’ in the midst of that is overwhelming at times…it’s easier to just ‘do’.

Four, my days are still filled with his care. Cancer is part of every day. Even though the end is in sight, the days themselves often aren’t any easier.

And, most importantly, whatever the number of days left until Gage is finished, I still have that many days left of watching him be sick. For most people, a weekend is a long time for your child to be sick. Spending a week watching your child feel crummy, be in pain and have to miss planned activities would be an even bigger deal. So, each day when I watch him struggle with how he feels, experience pain from the side effects of the chemo or lack the energy or immune system to do things he wants to do, it’s hard to be excited that I have 50+ more days of that.

Yet, of course, I am thrilled to be closer to the finish line. And, because of the many families we’ve met on this journey,  I am thankful beyond words that Gage has this finish line to look forward to…I know not every family is so fortunate. And, that thought weighs heavy on my heart.

So, it’s a long answer to a simple question. And, as I consider all that’s happened in our family these last three years, I also consider how it’s impacted us spiritually. That’s probably a post for another day, but I know that I can’t imagine the last three years without a relationship with Christ, confidence in His love for us, providence in countless ways through those that love Him, and the unfolding revelation that He can and does use our suffering here on earth to change lives for all eternity. That’s not to say that it’s been an easy road spiritually, because it hasn’t…and it’s still not. But, it has been rich, deep and life-changing.

Yesterday, I listened to Rich Mullins’ “All of the Way My Savior Leads Me“… and it just stuck with me:

All the way my Savior leads me
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His faithful mercies?
Who through life has been my guide

Heavenly peace divinest comfort
Ere by faith in Him to dwell
For I know whate’er fall me
Jesus doeth all things well

All of the way my Savior leads me
And He cheers each winding path I tread
Gives me strength for every trial
And He feeds me with the living bread

And though my weary steps may falter
And my soul a-thirst may be
Gushing from a rock before me
Though a spirit joy I see
…
This my song through endless ages
Jesus led me all the way

Please continue to pray for Gage, as he’s had several rough days lately. Also, he is scheduled for another spinal tap and week of steroids beginning Monday, August 2nd. Thankfully, it’s his last spinal tap, but it’s a very tough week.

Thanks for checking in and continuing to support us as we near the finish line. And, enjoy the pics of our family celebration in June on the third anniversary of his diagnosis…

Avery…

Water balloon fight!

Ellie enjoying Pokey-O’s homemade ice cream sandwich!

Wesley…

Blake with Gage giving thanks before dinner…

RH

Gage finished another week of steroids and increased chemotherapy last week, in addition to his on-going nightly chemo. I always plan to make a brief post before we begin those tough weeks to ask for prayer, but then I don’t get to it…and then find myself headlong into the craziness and challenges of the week with no time to post.

As any family of a child with leukemia will tell you, life is tough with a kid on steroids. More than any other drug Gage takes, the steroids effect Gage and our family life the most. They make him insatiably hungry (think food requests every 5 minutes, all day long, all week long), incredibly irritable (think of living in a family with three sisters…already enough for any boy!), sleep deprived (awake & unable to sleep for hours each night), and physically in pain (each time it’s different, but he usually has bone/joint pain).

Even after doing it every four weeks for years, it is always heartbreaking to watch him suffer as he endures yet another week on steroids. And, it complicates our family dynamics throughout each day as well…and I feel for our girls too as they live through the challenges of the week.

Thankfully, before this most recent week of steroids, we took the kids to Florida to enjoy a week at the beach. We picked them up early from the last day of school with the car fulled loaded and started driving. Roughly 12 hours of driving later, we arrived…and jumped right in the pool, clothes and all!

It was a great trip and a special time to share with our kids. Still, cancer takes no vacation…and our trip was no exception. Gage’s medicines make him extra sensitive to the sun, so even after just two days of very limited time at the beach and at the pool (and with lots of sunscreen), the skin on his face had an allergic-type reaction to the sun.

We haven’t had this problem the last two years in Florida, so we called the oncologist on call at Children’s in Dallas. Their advice? Take a day off from being outside, find an ointment/lotion that wouldn’t sting and use it often, re-apply sunscreen every 15 minutes when he’s outside, and buy a wide-brimmed hat for him to wear whenever he’s outside. Although he was not a big fan of all the ‘work’ we had to do to protect his skin, the changes helped and we were able to return to the beach for about an hour each morning…and then swim in the pool in the late afternoon.

As usual, Gage had a great attitude about the restrictions and the girls were compassionate & flexible, as they too were impacted to by less time at the beach and the pool. And, even though we wish cancer would take a vacation with us, we’re thankful that the Lord doesn’t take breaks either, and that we could lean on Him with our sadness, disappointment and weariness.

Psalm 121:2-4

² My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

³ He will not let your foot slip—
he who watches over you will not slumber;

⁴ indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

All in all, it was still a great trip, and we’re thankful we could enjoy a week at the beach together.  Enjoy the pics!

After a LONG time in the car, we arrived, jumped in the pool (clothes and all) & ate ice cream…a great start to our trip!

Wesley enjoying her ‘Dora’ treat…

Gage, Avery & Ellie at the beach…

Avery working on a sand castle…

Gage showing off a crab he caught!

Ellie!

Wesley’s not a big fan of the beach yet…at one point, she finally gave up her fussing and just laid down in the raft and ate a snack!

Thanks so much for checking in and for praying for us. Even though we are getting closer to the finish line for Gage, each day still has challenges and we’re tired from the journey.

Also, instead of the mid-June party/fundraiser for Children’s that we’ve done the last two years on the anniversary of Gage’s diagnosis, we’re tentatively planning a September 25 event for this fall…after he finishes!

So, save the date and stay tuned for more details!

RH

Sorry for the long delay without an update! Juggling kids in two elementary schools plus two at home has been a bit crazy at the end of the school year!

As many of you know, Gage had to move to a new school after spring break because of construction in his ‘old’ elementary school. Thankfully, the adjustment was very smooth. Not surprisingly, he is very resilient and doesn’t fight the things that can’t be changed. So, he went willingly and with a good attitude to his new school each morning…at least the mornings he felt well enough to go. And, the school and his teacher rolled out the red carpet to make the transition smooth and easy for us. I know Gage really enjoyed getting to make new friends and experience the new traditions and ways of another school.

Still, we love our ‘real’ elementary school, and have taken a couple opportunities to play ‘hooky’ so Gage could see his friends on days when the kids spent time outside…and away from the construction inside. It was so sweet on field day and at the end-of-year party to see him reunited with the friends he spent most of the year with. For me, it’s sweet to see both his friends and his teacher light up when they see him.  And, the feelings are mutual…and easy to see as Gage smiles and talks with his friends.

As we’ve finished out this year, I’ve realized that we’ve actually made it through one of the biggest challenges of Gage’s treatment…juggling chemo & school on a daily basis. From the beginning, we knew that he would be on chemo every day for all of kindergarten and first grade. And, the weight of making decisions each day was heavy.

Should I let him come home early when he called saying he didn’t feel great? Should I push through and see if he could stay another hour and finish the language arts portion of the day? Should I send him at all on mornings he felt crummy from the previous nights’ chemo? What about the weeks that were extra hard with steroids…should we even try to send him at all?

It was a daily challenge to answer those questions…and to know how to best balance what he needed to learn during those years with the reality of how he was feeling. And, knowing that each choice set the precedent for a future decision also weighed heavily upon us as we sought to strike that balance.

But, now he’s finished kindergarten and first grade. And, he’ll finish treatment on September 17th 2010, after only 4 weeks of second grade. There will certainly still be medical challenges and transitions in second grade, but nightly chemo (and it’s many side effects) won’t be one of them. And, it feels good to know that we’ve mostly finished juggling school and chemo…and that this summer, he can just be home with us on the days he feels crummy.

Here are a few pictures from the fun times he had reuniting with his friends…

Gage carrying the class sign at field day…

Slam dunk! (Ok…maybe he had a little help…)

Avery with her classmates at field day… She broke her arm last month and had the cast removed the day before field day…and wouldn’t leave home without the sling…just in case!

Go girl!

Good times with friends…

Sweet Ellie…headed to kindergarten in the fall…

Hanging out with her friends while the big kids had field day…

Kindergarten here we come!

And, of course, Wesley….always tagging along!

Gage also played baseball this spring (at least for the 2 games that he felt well enough to play in…). And, he loved it!

Thumbs up from 2nd base after a big double!

Watch him go!

Good times…

Also, mark your calendar for Sat., Sept 25, 2010…it’s the date of the big celebration party we’re hosting when Gage is finished! It will be a fun family event…and the more the merrier! We’ll share details later, but it will take the place of the event we’ve done the previous two years in June on the anniversary of Gage’s diagnosis.

Zephaniah 3:17  ”The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”

As always, thanks for checking in and for walking this road with us.

RH

I guess this is an Easter weekend update of sorts…although probably not what you might expect. Remember our good friend Leigh, who took a year off from graduate school to work for our family when Gage was first diagnosed and Wesley was born? Well, this Easter weekend, Leigh got married!

And, for us, it was a family affair. Gage was a ring bearer, Avery & Ellie were flower girls, I was a bridesmaid and Blake officiated the service.

As I told Leigh at her rehearsal dinner, our friendship was a sweet gift from the Lord during a season when few things were sweet. And, as I told her husband-to-be that night, I know when she says the words “for better or for worse” to you tomorrow, she has what it takes to make good on that promise. And, that’s because of her incredible faith in the Lord and her dependence on Him. She walked with our family through a year so dark that it pains me to even remember it…and she did it with grace, humility, compassion, selflessness, faithfulness, courage and perseverance.

And, out of that year came a great friendship not only between Leigh and our kids…but between Leigh and me as well. Now, her husband Adam is also part of the mix, and when Leigh walks in our house, the first words she usually hears are, “Miss Leigh? Is Mr. Adam coming too??”

So, it was a wonderful weekend to celebrate all that Leigh and Adam have done right in their pursuit of the Lord and of each other…and the gift of an incredible wedding day.

I was the last bridesmaid to walk down the aisle and join the others as we waited for Leigh to appear. And, as her mom rose and the congregation followed her, the music changed to Amazing Grace. At the rehearsal, there was no music while we practiced, so I was caught off guard by the song.

As the musicians played Amazing Grace, I watched sweet Gage walk down the aisle…and then Avery & Ellie hand in hand…and then beautiful, beaming Leigh…and the last few years flashed before my eyes. Gage sick, so sick at Children’s…the girls missing us as we were always with him…Leigh practically living with us…so many days we all could barely keep our heads above water…Leigh’s great longing to be married and our many conversations and prayers about it…

Then, I saw my sweet husband on the stage near me…Gage, so handsome and healthy, all smiles…Avery & Ellie, happily with us and each other…Leigh, a great friend…walking down the aisle to Adam, the love of her life.

Amazing grace, indeed.

I’m so thankful for the Lord’s love for us that He would send His one & only son to live a perfect life on earth and then willingly die in our place as payment for our sins…all to bring us into a relationship with Him. And, standing on that stage was an incredible reminder of His grace that abounds in our lives even in difficult times.

Enjoy the great pictures…compliments of my friend Suzanne!

Ellie, Leigh and Avery…

Sweet Avery praying for Leigh before she walks down the aisle…

Leigh and Adam!

Thanks for checking in, and please pray for us as Gage goes to clinic Monday to start another steroid week (and the first at his new school).

(And for those of you who noticed that I never mentioned Wesley, she played happily at home all weekend…Leigh and I agreed she was too young to take part in all the festivities…and it was much more fun for me to enjoy the festivities without chasing a two-year-old!)

RH

Our latest news around here is that Gage is switching elementary schools for the rest of the school year. Crazy, I know.

As I’ve mentioned, his school has on-going construction this year, and the next phase is going to create more dust & dirt in the air than Gage’s oncologist is comfortable with. (Because he is immune-suppressed, things like dust & dirt can pose a risk to his health…even though they are harmless for healthy children.)

Here are a few pictures of the kind & thoughtful “send-off” from his class…

Gage and his sweet teacher…who he will certainly miss!

And, a sweet pic with the school nurse…Gage has spent many, many hours with her this year and last…and I don’t know what we would do without her!

Thankfully, there is another great elementary school only 10 minutes from our house, and they have rolled out the red carpet to welcome Gage and our family. Still, it will be a big adjustment for him to have a new teacher, learn new routines, meet new friends and more. And, Avery is dreading returning to school without him there. We learned during our conversations about the transition that she checks in on him in his classroom at least once a day at school. So sweet…and so Avery.

And, I think we all feel the weariness that comes with being almost three years into Gage’s treatment. The school change is in some ways not a huge deal…but when you feel a bit exhausted, spent and vulnerable to begin with, there are days it can get the best of you…and I know we all feel that.

So Gage finished on Friday at his “old” school (to which he will return in the fall), and this week is Spring Break. Our plans? Clinic for a long day on Monday and a week of steroids. And, again, it’s easy to get weary of this routine when friends are headed skiing, to the beach, etc.

In addition, Blake is speaking at our church, Watermark, this weekend and next. His topic today? Thankfulness.

Here is a great quote from what he shared…it’s certainly encouraged me as we switch school, start steroids and stay home this week…

“Thankful Christians have cultivated a view of God’s goodness in which they believe that he can work through all things.  In humility, they’re willing to accept that their understanding doesn’t define God’s goodness, so even when things look bad, they find something to be thankful for . . . It’s as dangerous for a Christian not to give thanks as it is for a driver to leaver her seat belt disconnected.  When accidents happen—and, eventually, they will—we’ll be left unprotected.  If we don’t adopt thankfulness, we undermine our own spiritual stability by questioning whether God is, after all, a loving Father.  The difficulty of our situation and even the frustration of relatively minor nuisances can cloud our spiritual vision and tempt us to reconsider spiritual absolutes that we know are true.” (Gary Thomas, The Glorious Pursuit)

If you’re curious and would like to hear Blake’s messages, you can go to Watermark Radio. I’ll freely admit that there are many things these last couple years that I’m not able to say I’m “thankful” for, but I hope I can always appreciate God’s blessings even in dark times and still trust Him along the way. And, I do think I’ll be able to be thankful in Heaven one day.

Thanks for checking in, and please pray for Gage’s extra chemotherapy this week, as well as his transition to his new school.

RH

Yes…it’s mid February, and I’m still thinking about my 2010 resolution. The way I see it, there’s a lot of freedom in not committing too soon (like January 1) because there’s no pressure to be 100% perfect at whatever I resolve to do!

Still, one thing I have often thought about is how difficult it has been for me to keep our blog updated these last several months. One friend sent me an email about keeping resolutions that stuck with me…

“I like the visual of writing down a goal and then writing down what will need to be sacrificed to make the time for it to happen.  I think to often I fail at my goals because I add more “good” things without taking anything away.  That means I am operating on the assumption that there are times in my day that I’m not capitalizing on…like “spare” minutes.  I don’t know about you, but that is not an accurate picture of my day, and probably not of yours either!”

And, for me, I think that updating the blog has been a good thing that I’ve had to set aside for a season because of other things that have been added to my life. Although I haven’t shared this on the blog, some of you know that my parents recently moved to Dallas because of health problems my mom is facing. Specifically, she has been diagnosed with Frontotemporal Dementia. (If you’re tempted to Google it, just go here for the best information)

Without detailing all that my mom’s diagnosis has entailed for our family, I can easily say that it is a daily reality that challenges the physical, emotional, spiritual and relational aspect of life for each of us…my dad, my sister and I, our husbands and our kids.

And, of course, Gage is still taking chemo daily, trying to attend school most days, dealing with the challenges of a school that’s under construction this year (which presents health risks for him) and more. This last Monday he had a spinal tap, chemo through his port, a breathing treatment and started a week of steroids….and has only been to school for one hour this week because he feels so crummy.

So, many days, life feels like this…

Yes, it’s the Whac-a-Mole game from the arcade…a frantic game of trying to anticipate which mole will pop up, quickly hitting it and then moving right on to the next one…an assault on the senses and nerves!

And, in the midst of my “Whac-a-Mole” season, I have to really narrow my focus each day to the very short list of things that I can do…and the blog has rarely made it to the top of the list.

I know…the blog isn’t supposed to feel like pressure to me, and you think I shouldn’t worry about it. But…you have all been wonderful to follow our story and pray these last 2+ years, and I value having each of you with us on this journey.

So, I think my “February resolution” is that I will try to update the blog during the first week of each month…unless things get crazy with Gage and I have more to share…which I certainly hope I don’t.

And, as always, thanks for your prayers for Gage and our family. We are certainly weary from these last several years, and your support makes a difference.

Enjoy the pictures of our record-breaking snow day in Dallas!

Sweet Wesley…now two-and-a-half!

Gage…

Our neighborhood snowman with the celery mohawk!

Avery…

Ellie…

A rare pic of all 6 of us!

Thanks again for checking in!

RH