Funeral Rock Stars

"It's going to be terrible.  It's going to be awful.  It's not going to be any fun. You're going to see and talk to tons of people you don't know.  But we all have to do it.  Unfortunately, this is just part of life."

These are the words Derek spoke to our girls as he explained the plans for both the upcoming visitation and the funeral.

Terrible because of the tears.  Awful because of the reason we had to be there.

Two days prior he'd gotten the shocking phone call.  His 74 year old father, Owen, had suddenly and unexpectedly passed away following routine knee replacement surgery.  As one family friend expressed during visitation, "He went in for a new knee and came out with a new life."

As difficult, as heart-breaking as this news was to bear, we are confident of Derek's father's presence now. We know his unwavering faith in his unwavering Savior is now full-out, glorious sight.

"Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body, we are away from the Lord. We live by faith, not by sight.  We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.  So we make it our goal to please Him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it." 2 Cor. 5:19

We've been to funerals.  Several lately, unfortunately.  But this was the first time in our adult lives Derek and I had to play an active, intimate role because we're immediate family.

This was the first time my husband had to sit for over two hours at a funeral home and assist in making arrangements.  The first time he had to listen to casket options and help decide the number of death certificates needed, wording on the obituary and the pictures needed for the slideshow.

This was hard stuff.  For Derek's mother, Carol, his two brothers, their wives, and his aunt and uncle.  The hard stuff no one wants to do.  But from my perspective, the stuff they all handled like total and complete rock stars.

Visitation at the funeral home was scheduled to be three hours long.  But the crowd.

People stood in line for hours to pay their respects and to offer their condolences.

I shouldn't have been surprised at the overwhelming number of people. Owen (and Carol, too) have lived their entire lives in that area, rooted in their community.  They raised their children there and Derek's brothers and families are doing the same there; we live nearly two hours away.

Owen had also been an active member of his church for over 35 years, serving as a deacon and even being employed there as head of custodial management after he'd entered retirement nearly 15 years ago.

For six long hours, my mother-in-law lovingly embraced each and every visitor who stepped up to the casket and in front of her. As friends shared their cherished memories and favorite moments of the man she'd been married to for 52 years, she listened intimately, maintaining eye contact, giving them her undivided attention, soaking in every word as a lifeline.

And I watched her in complete amazement.

Though weak, she was clothed with strength.
Though broken, she was altogether lovely.
Though needy herself, she lifted up and ministered to others while they grieved.

Her sons, Kevin, Micah, and Derek, remained like stalwart soldiers by her side.

Carol Anne and Denny, Owen's sister and brother-in-law, were a constant presence for my mother-in-law. Always in the background, always serving. Always thinking of others' needs. Always assisting. Always helping. Always seeing the needs before anyone else did.

Derek had told me how his aunt and uncle had been invaluable throughout the first few days of this family tragedy, but I got to witness it with my own two eyes while I was down there.  No doubt they'll continue to be the tangible hands and feet of Jesus for Carol as the days go on. Because that's just who they are.

As the evening progressed and some of the grandchildren grew restless, Derek's cousin's wife from Tennessee, affectionately known as "Aunt Sue", volunteered to take them down to the sunroom in the funeral home. Their attention span spent there, she then offered to take them back to Carol's house, feed them dinner, let them play and watch them while we were away.  Who does that?  Aunt Sue, that's who.

Rob and Joel, the vocalists at the funeral, led those in attendance in full-out worship (because that's what Owen would've wanted) and Pastor Larry, Owen's pastor, proclaimed the love of Christ with the gospel (because that's what Owen would've wanted) and three individuals said, "Yes" to Jesus and his offer of salvation. Three new creations in Christ.  At my father-in-law's funeral, y'all.

Food abounded at the house.  Countless containers of casseroles, cakes and cookies, too many to fit in Carol's refrigerator, have provided continuous nourishment for the entire family, those from out-of-town and those in-town.  Flowers, cards, phone calls, text messages, and visitors have poured in over the past week and provided much comfort to those on the receiving end.

Love demonstrated in a million ways, big and small to the entire Fort family. People have shown up and God has shown off.

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows." 2 Cor. 1:3-5

The death of Derek's father will leave an irreplaceable hole in the family.  He loved us all and prayed for us all, particularly his seven grandchildren.  Over the last several years, he got to see each and every one of them baptized following individual personal confessions of faith in Jesus' sacrificial work on the cross for them.

But for us, one of the biggest losses is the fact that he won't be at the airport the day we arrive home from India. He'll never meet his eighth grandchild.  From the moment we shared our plans to adopt, Owen was beyond excited.  He loved that we were adopting. He loved hearing all the crazy, exciting, up/down details along the way.  And he loved the day we called to tell them we'd finally been matched with our girl.

Before I was even halfway through explaining the story, he stopped me.  He wanted to pause, to pray and to give thanks to God for what He'd done in our journey so far.  He believed big for us and prayed big for us and his Indian granddaughter.  He was most definitely one of our biggest supporters and we'll never forget that.

It's been a tough week since the funeral and yet, the hardest days lie ahead. Specifically for Carol.  She has to figure out a new day-to-day normal. She has to make decisions. She has to face the quietness and the loneliness.  So understandably, our thoughts, our concerns, our prayers are for her now, because she needs them.

Though she often referred to her husband as her "rock", I know she's leaning on, holding on and standing on the Rock, her Lord, her Redeemer right now. And I'm confident, too, her Rock is leaning in, holding her, and standing right there with her as well.  Because that's just what He does.

Matched With Our Girl! And What We Can Tell You So Far...

I realize I probably should have written portions of this post two months ago, but life just keeps going and I haven't been intentional in stopping, sitting down and taking the time to write out the specific details.  But in an effort to keep our story current on this blog, I am going to attempt to answer the questions we've been asked most lately concerning our journey to adopt:

When did you get matched with your daughter?

After three years of waiting, we finally got THE call.  The call all adoptive parents wait anxiously to get. On March 20 (the first day of spring), the assistant director over the India program from our agency (America World), phoned us and said she had a referral she was excited for us to consider. She sent us the little girl's picture, her personal information, and her medical file for us to review.

To say we were excited was an understatement.  We'd been praying for quite some time that we'd "know" our daughter when we saw her.  There are really no adequate words to describe both the joy we felt and the peace we sensed as we received all the information about this potential match for our family.  Our agency representative informed us we had two weeks to either accept or decline the referral. Our hearts wanted to say, "Yes!" at that very moment to seal the deal, but our minds knew the wisdom in taking the weekend to seek God's face about this huge, life-changing decision.

After consulting with our pediatrician concerning her medical issues and praying our guts out, we called our agency one week later and officially accepted the referral to adopt our little girl.  We shared the news with our parents, siblings, close friends and finally on Facebook with this image...

"No one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides You,
who acts on behalf of those who wait for Him."
Isaiah 64:4

What can you tell about her?

Not a whole lot actually.  All on account of the fact that we signed a privacy and confidentiality clause in our referral acceptance paperwork. What we can tell you is that she is a cutie!  We can also tell you she turned 14 months old yesterday.  Yes, she's still a baby!  So, we've got to go way back--breaking out the crib, the highchair, the stroller, the diaper bag and whatever else she's/we're going to need.  Thank goodness I am going to have some of the best helpers ever in Grace and Gloria.  What a blessing they will be to their little sister...and to me!

Because India has (typically) not been releasing younger children to be adopted by non-Indian families, we'd been told and we'd been expecting, to adopt an older child.  We'd been approved to adopt a female within the age range of 0-5 according to our last home study.  So when I asked the India program director, "How old is she?" and she responded with, "a year old", I was shocked.  Later on in the conversation, we found out her actual birthday was March 20, the very same day we got the news.  Seriously. Couldn't make it up if I tried.  While we missed the opportunity to throw her the big first birthday bash, prayerfully we'll make it up when she turns two!

What have you been doing since you were matched?

In a nutshell, we've been updating our home study since it had expired. We've had to redo so much paperwork.  Paperwork we'd completed twice before in the last three years.  And those blasted fingerprints. So many complications getting them. But from an email we received last week, everything is finally good to go with that.

We had our last home visit with our caseworker a week ago.  Well, the last one until she returns for a post-placement visit three months after we bring our daughter home.  We also asked our friend who is a notary to come over and notarize a stack of official documents which came straight from the orphanage and which will return right back to them. And lastly, I had to drive to Atlanta to get that stack of uber-important papers stamped with the federal apostille stamp before we could Fed Ex them on to our agency and then on to India.

What do you have to do next?

We have some immigration stuff to tackle, but for the most part our work here is done.  We've done all we need to do and now the orphanage is responsible for initiating and advocating for us as our case moves through the court system in India.  So we return to waiting.  Waiting for it all to continue to move forward on the other side of the world.

How much longer until you can go get her?

According to our agency, probably another 10 months...though we are praying it will be sooner!  Like 5-6 months sooner.  The good news is that we do not have to be present for us to pass the court process.  It is completed via adoption paperwork submitted by the orphanage on behalf of us. The orphanage will hold a Power of Attorney to represent us to the judge.  A court decree is then issued which allows the orphanage to apply for our daughter's passport.

Once her passport is obtained, we can arrange to travel to India to get her! Unfortunately, there is no estimated time frame for the court approval processes, so we really have no clue.  But another piece of good news is that according to our agency, our little girl is in a "good" orphanage. Basically, it means it's one in which our agency has worked with in years/situations past and continues to have a good working relationship. Always a good thing.

How long will you be in India?

We'll be there about two weeks to complete the adoption and wait on various paperwork and approvals. We'll have a guide from our agency there to assist us during this part of the process, which is very reassuring.

Derek and I have chosen not to take our girls with us on the trip.  As much as they would both like to go to be a part of this journey and to help tell her story, they understand the added difficulty and of course, cost, if they were to travel with us.  We are dreading being away from them for two weeks, but we'll do what we have to do. Skyping each other every chance we can will help and of course, praying the time goes by quickly until we can all be together as a new family unit.

We're excited.  Our girls are excited.  In our heads, we know inevitably there are going to be new challenges, but we also know there will be so many new joys.

Countless are the other personal, intimate details of this story so far, which unfortunately I cannot share in this public forum. If I've had a conversation with you, then you already know how amazing God's hand has been in this. If not, then hopefully I will have the chance to share soon.  I've always told the Lord that as long as He keeps writing the story, I'll tell it.  His thoughts, His ways are so much higher than ours. And already He has done far more than we could have ever asked or imagined.

How can we pray?

Please pray this part of the process goes by quickly.  And in the words of my friend, that "God will move expeditiously on behalf of His children."

Expeditiously.  Isn't that an awesome word?  So awesome to me that it's recently moved all the way to the tippy-top of my favorites list!

Yes, we've waited a long time. But as anyone should understand, the wait is harder now because we know who we're waiting for.

"Though it linger, wait for it; 

it will certainly come and will not delay." 

Habakkuk 2:3b

Don't Want to Miss the Sun Because of a Little Rain

Rain.

That's all we saw when we looked at the forecast for the week of our family camping trip.

And not just rain, but nearly a 100% chance of rain for every day of our spring break.

We had no way of knowing there would be so much precipitation when we booked the campsite weeks before the trip.  I mean, is there really such a thing as "April showers"?  To which all my soggy, starting-to-mold Georgia peeps would answer with a resounding "Yes!"

So days before, we checked and rechecked the weather app on our phones. We called the park and inquired the last possible date to cancel and the penalties if we did so.  And of course we prayed that the rain, rain would go away and come again another day.

All the while, I continued to badger ask Derek, "Do you want to cancel?  Do you think we should go?  How much fun are we really going to have if it rains the whole time?"

Rain certainly puts a damper on camping, but especially if you plan to tent-camp, which we had.  Especially if you have to tote "house and home" back and forth from your car down a hill to your campsite.  Especially if all your meal prep and dining will be occurring outside.

Each time I questioned, my husband confidently agreed we should still go. "Why not?" he said.

So off we went.

Because we expected heaps of rain, we prepared and packed accordingly. We brought rain jackets, rain boots, and a bag full of "inside the tent activities in case of rain lock-down", including games, art stuff and even math.  (Gasp! Homeschoolin' mama still means business, even on spring break.)

We knew we would be good our first day.  And we were.  We set up camp, explored, played in the creek, and grilled out without one drop of rain.

But the rain did come...while we slept snugly in our sleeping bags inside our tent.  By the time we woke up, it was clear.  Perfect for breakfast.

Later a light misting began, but certainly nothing to stop us from taking a hike on one of the park's trails.  A couple hours later, the rain stopped altogether and we had another great day outside.

The weather was an entirely different story the second night.  For hours, torrential poured down upon us. But thankfully, we were camping in an awesome pavilion site.  So while the storm raged outside, again we were snug and warm and dry inside the tent, under our shelter.

As we came out to get breakfast ready, the rain stopped.  And it stayed dry. We went fishing, the girls played on their scooters, and we went back to the creek.  Surprisingly, we enjoyed another super day of camping.

But by the end of the third day, we opted to go ahead and pack up.  The forecast was getting worse, and we concluded packing up a dry tent and all our camping supplies on a dry evening would be far superior to packing up a wet tent the next morning.

As we drove home, I thought about our trip.  I thought about the rain predictions and my uncertainty about going.  But then I thought about how the actual trip was far different from what we expected.

(At one point, our oldest expressed her disappointment that we were not cocooned inside the tent for the majority of the trip. I guess she went from just hearing it was a possibility to hoping it would actually happen.)

If we had caved to what the forecast was telling us, believing that there would only be rain the entire time and had chosen to stay in the predictable safety of our home, then we would've missed out big time. We would've missed out on camping at a "new to us" state park, laughing and playing together, and most of all, seeing God act on our behalf regarding the rain.

Last weekend when Derek and I attended Show Hope's "Empowered to Connect Conference" simulcast, we listened to adoption guru, Dr. Karyn Purvis, speak to adoptive/foster care and prospective adoptive/foster care parents, and we heard a lot of predictions.

We heard about various attachment styles and bonding.
We learned about the state of a child's brain who's experienced abandonment, abuse, neglect and/or trauma.
We heard about lacks and deficiencies and the struggles that come with parenting a child from the "hard places".

And as one could guess, the forecast wasn't so positive. So much so that at certain moments, Dr. Purvis encouraged us all to pause and to take a   d-e-e-p, cleansing breath.

Reassuringly, she then said, "But...there's hope. The brain is plastic. And with its plasticity, change can happen with nurturing."

Cognitively, we realize adoption is not easy.  On paper adoption may even appear bleak or discouraging to some. But not to us. Not so much anymore.

Because we're choosing to hope. We're choosing to believe. We're choosing to dive in and do the hard stuff that is required of us because she matters. We're choosing to rest in the safety of God's tent as He shelters us through whatever less than desirable weather may come our way.

"For in the day of trouble 

He will keep me safe in His dwelling; 

He will hide me in the shelter of His sacred tent 

and set me high upon a rock." Psalm 27:5

We'll prepare. We'll cocoon in when necessary. And we'll emerge when it's time to come out.

Sure, there was some rain while we camped.  But there was w-a-a-ay more sunshine. Sunshine we would've missed if we had let a possible forecast be the sole dictator of our plans.

Falling Through My Kitchen Ceiling & an Adoption Update (because they totally go together...)

If we're friends on Facebook, then you may have seen this picture and post three weeks ago:

"See this disastrous hole in my kitchen ceiling?  Now just imagine my entire left leg dangling from it.
Why?  Because about an hour ago, it was!

In an effort to save a little $$$, I went to the attic to try to find some of Grace's previously worn black dress shoes for Gloria to wear this weekend to a Valentine's dance.  Wasn't paying attention, took one step back & down I went...screaming all the way.

Took Derek about 2 seconds to race up the ladder & rescue his insulation-covered, shaken-up, teary wife.  Girls witnessed the whole thing & were quite shaken up as well. :( 

I bruised my knee & right wrist has been throbbing (& of course my pride is wounded), but other than that, I'm good.  Praise God!

So...looking back (& up at this mess), I'm thinking it would've been a whole lot cheaper to have just purchased new dress shoes..."

From the response I received, apparently falling through your ceiling is more common than I had initially thought.  After the shock wore off and the heart rates went down, we all got a good ol' fashioned belly laugh about it, particularly when my oldest said, "Mom, no offense or anything...but when I saw your leg hanging down, all I could think of were the huge shoes at the Center for Puppetry Arts."

A most accurate comparison indeed.

The last time we were at the
Center for Puppetry Arts in Atlanta

What I recall most of that entire evening was not the scary moment I fell, the humongous mess in my kitchen, or the pain I was feeling in my body.  It was actually something Grace, my oldest, said to me moments after it all happened.

My sweet, compassionate girls had ushered me to the recliner in the living room and had given me ice packs for my knee and wrist.  And while they were doctoring me (and my frazzled emotions) with lots of TLC, Derek took to action, cutting back loose dry wall, vacuuming up the insulation, etc.  Then without saying a word, he headed back up into the attic with a large piece of cardboard he'd found in the garage.

From the recliner, Grace and I could hear him working and could see some movement, but weren't sure what he was doing.  I asked her, "So...what do you think he's doing up there?" 

Gazing up at her daddy, Grace nonchalantly said, "Hmm...I don't know. But I trust him."

Forget the new bumps and bruises on my body, that simple comment left fresh marks on my heart.

And I knew why.

Three years ago, in one of the biggest steps of faith we've ever taken as a family, we began the journey to adopt.  Three years ago.  Sometimes it seems like yesterday and other times, another lifetime ago.

Last spring we thought we'd finally found her.  A brown-skinned 9-month old girl with a cleft lip and palate. We requested her file from her orphanage, spent hours researching future surgeries she'd need here in the States and even had discussions of the exact placement of her crib in our bedroom.

But then we got a phone call.  It wasn't going to happen.  We were not allowed to be matched with her. Officially, we were still attached to our original orphanage in northwest India and this little girl was in a very different orphanage in southeast India.  And adoption law in India (CARA) dictated that was not a possibility.

Disappointment hurts.  Especially of the faith variety.  Somewhere along the way, I've pulled back.  In the past year, I've struggled with trust and unbelief.  I've wrestled with doubt and fear.  I've grappled with selfishness and apathy.  I've even fought thoughts of, "Do I even still want what we've been waiting for these past three years?"

Inside, I've been a mess of emotions.  I've suffered from tension headaches.  All because I can't seem to regain the confidence I once had in this journey.  I've lost it...or rather had it stolen from me.  I guess waiting a long time for anything has the potential to do that to a person.

Through all of this (and trust me, we're still in the midst of it), God has been kind.  He's been more than patient.  He's been faithful when I've been completely faithless.  He's shown me that it's been this dormant disappointment which has kept me from reaching out in full faith again, believing Him and all the promises He's given us in the last three years.

About a month ago, He directed me to this in His word:

"In You our fathers put their trust; 

they trusted and You delivered them.

They cried to You and were saved; 

in You they trusted and were not disappointed." 

Psalm 22:4-5

Trust and disappointment.

And then just this past Sunday, our pastor, referencing David's two-decade wait to become the anointed King of Israel says this,

"The work of faith is in the waiting.  

The work of faith is when it's not.  

Will you wait faithfully?"

Waiting and faith.

And then we headed into Kids Crossing where we serve, where the new virtue for the month of March is patience. Yep.  Patience.

So, there I stood on stage Sunday, talking about the impatience of Esau with his brother, Jacob, and encouraging the kids to keep waiting on God's best, even if they don't think they can wait one. more. second.

Patience.

It's almost like God is telling us something...

After this emotional update, let me give you the logistical update with the adoption.  I know the guys would've liked this first, but sorry, I write the blog posts around here, not Derek.

Following the debacle last spring, our adoption agency contacted CARA (the governing agency dealing with all things adoption in India) and petitioned we be released from the orphanage they'd matched us with nearly three years ago.  After months and months of waiting for this request to be granted (because everything in India moves slower than slow), our request has been granted.  We are now officially unattached.

What does this mean?

This means we now have access to a special listing/database called CARINGS.  From what we understand, this database is updated and monitored daily by adoption agencies all over the world.  Indian orphanages upload children from their orphanages onto this list for adoption.  Since India is not releasing young, "healthy" children to be adopted by foreign families right now, this listing contains children with various special needs, ranging from mild to very severe.  The little girl with the cleft lip we had hoped to pursue in adoption was on this list.

Yes, we are clueless as to how this will all come to pass, but we are choosing to stay the course until we feel nudged to do otherwise.

What do we do while we're in this limbo state?

We...(wait for it...) wait.

And similar to Derek quietly taking care of business up in our attic, I choose to believe God is working, too.

Even when my feelings try to convince me otherwise, His Word says He is for us. He is for the fatherless. The plans He has for us are good.  Plans to prosper us, not to harm us. Plans to give us a hope and a future.

So...what is He doing?

"Hmm...I don't know.  But...I trust Him."

In the recliner...post-fall.

Principles of (Happy) Moms Who Home Educate

I stumbled upon this list on another blog I was reading a few days ago and instantly fell in love.

Because when you've reached the halfway point in your school year and when you've been all bundled up trying to stay warm and disliking January (VERY MUCH) and you find this list which picks you up and simultaneously kicks your butt into remembering the most important things about why you do what you do, then yes, you share it.

You share it with yourself on your own blog so you will never forget the beautiful, rest-filled, peaceful, grace-filled reminders, but also, maybe, you share it for any of your fellow homeschooling mama friends (or friends considering homeschooling) who may need the encouragement as well.

Principles of (Happy) Moms Who Home Educate:

* God is in control of our family’s home education. 

* Home education is a portion of my full vocation as wife and mother. Keep it proportionate.

* Home education, when done from love and humility, is a steady path to sanctity and heaven.

* Home education is primarily a way of life, not an alternative to school.

* My husband is objectively the spiritual head of our household, the spiritual director of our home education.

* All home education decisions are prudential between husband, wife, and God. Leave the neighbors out of it.

* Homeschooling is mostly joyful and right. It is also hard work worth doing and involves purposeful suffering.

* Anxiety and worry are not an inevitable part of home education or an outward sign of hard work. They are signs to re-group.

* Burn-out is preventable.

* There is no perfect curriculum (self-designed or prepackaged.) Perfect is the enemy of the good. Be content with good enough. (Good enough does not justify sloth which is not good enough. Know when to realize that any additional effort toward improvement would result in a negligible improvement, especially in comparison to the effort required to gain it.)

* Plan primarily based on the truth about Mom, playing to my strengths, secondarily on the needs of the family as a whole, thirdly on the individual needs of each child, playing to their strengths.

* Emphasize character formation for all, especially formation that increases family harmony and independent decision-making. 

* Academic achievement is over-rated.

* Focus on today.

* Progress is not linear and best gauged over time.

* We’re never behind. We’re exactly where God wants us. We entrust the past to God’s Divine Mercy and the future to His Divine Providence. 

* Saints do not compare themselves to their neighbors because they keep their eyes fixed upon God.

* Delegate out of humility.

* Know when to take a break to refresh and renew.

* Know what I need to feel comfortable in my home. Prioritize maintaining a basic level of order.

* Discussion counts as an invaluable learning and teaching tool. 

* Mastery takes time, for student and educator.

* Laughter is good, even when it needs to be redirected.

* Academic standards are arbitrary.

* Time spent on curriculum planning is time not spent on other things.

* Money spent on curriculum is money not spent on other things.

* A sense of humor lightens our load.

* Enthusiasm is contagious.

* Enthusiasm enhances motivation and engagement.

* Engagement and practice increases retention. 

"Entrusting the past to God’s Divine Mercy and the future to His Divine Providence..."
And grateful that God has a giant one of these set aside for each of us on any given day...

What is Prayer, Really?

For anyone else who may need a shake up and/or dose of encouragement with your current prayer life like I sure have...here's my 2 cents this morning:

Prayer is not reduced to a habit that "good" Christians do.  It's not something to be checked off in the morning.  Or a ritual at night.  It's not a burden.  It's not an obligation.  It's not a duty.

So...what then?

I sure do love this super simple (but very profound) definition I read this morning!

"Prayer is being with God Who is always with you."

After being a redeemed child of God for 30+ years, I'm STILL learning that prayer is abiding.  It's simply dialoguing with my Father.  It's ongoing.  Unceasing.

This talking with Him, leaning upon Him, submitting to Him, is a privilege.  A privilege I don't take advantage of nearly enough.

This week I am LOVING the yellow dot stickers my pastor passed out to us on Sunday, challenging our church to remember to pray...hourly as a matter of fact.  I admit I've missed that mark, but I'm grateful for the purpose of the challenge.

Seeing that sticker has encouraged me to stay conscious of conversation with Him.

Being WITH Him, as He is always WITH me.

And if I don't get, or practice, or change anything else in 2015, at least I'm beginning this year (re)learning how to pray.

Amen.  And amen.