Celebrating Advent means being willing to wait. Waiting is an art that our impatient age has forgotten. It wants to break open the ripe fruit when it has hardly finished planting the shoot. But all too often the greedy eyes are only deceived; the fruit that seemed so precious is still green on the inside, and disrespectful hands ungratefully toss aside what has so disappointed them. Whoever does not know the austere blessedness of waiting – that is, of hopefully doing without – will never experience the full blessing of fulfillment.

Those who do not know how it feels to struggle anxiously with the deepest questions of life, of their life, and to patiently look forward with anticipation until the truth is revealed, cannot even dream of the splendor of the moment in which clarity is illuminated for them. And for those who do not want to win the friendship and love of another person – who does not expectantly open up their soul to the soul of the other person, until friendship and love some, until they make their entrance – for such people the deepest blessing of the one life of two intertwined souls will remain forever hidden.

For the greatest, most profound, tenderest things in the world, we must wait. It happens not here in a storm but according to the divine laws of sprouting, growing, and becoming.

—Dietrich Bonhoeffer, God is in the Manger


I love this passage. Last year during Advent, I was too thick in a season of waiting to really appreciate it, but this year I can see how true it is.




Pumpkin Patch

Last week Ryan and I took Ada to the pumpkin patch at Kruger’s Farm.





Don’t worry – that pumpkin was not about to fall on her head!


After pumpkin patching, we attempted to go to the river beach at Sauvie Island, but were quickly deterred by a bunch of gross flying ants.


At least we got a nice photo!


Last October, my body was still recovering from my third miscarriage. This October I’m holding a snuggly six week old as I write this one handed on my phone. A lot can change in a year.

And although I am so incredibly joyful for Ada, my heart is still heavy for those who are still struggling. One in four pregnancies will end in miscarriage, and one in eight couples will experience infertility.  And the thing is, you might never know it. Fertility issues are personal and embarrassing. More often than not, when I’ve share pieces of my story, I’m met with silence, or awkwardness, or hurtful comments. It doesn’t feel good to let others know that something really awful is happening, and it really doesn’t feel good when they don’t respond how you want them to.

I am a different person after this. Less optimistic maybe, but also more laid back. I’ve finally learned (I think) that I’m not in control and that I need to let things go. I discovered yoga and meditation and the healing power of long baths. I think I learned how to be a better friend and how to not run away when life gets hard. My marriage is stronger after having weathered a storm together, and I am grateful for that. I gained some friendships and lost others. I realized that I have said dumb things to others going through difficult times and hope I do better in the future. I’m definitely better at self-care.

This morning in church we sang one of my very favorite songs. Come Thou Fount. When I first learned I was pregnant with Ada last December, I sang this song every morning on the way to work, hoping that it would give me just a bit of faith that things would work out differently this time around. I don’t know if I had more faith this time around, and I don’t think that singing this song helped things go well, but I do know that the ritual of the singing and the praying and the meditation helped heal my heart and prepare it to meet sweet Ada.

Prone to wander, Lord I feel it

Prone to leave the God I love

Here’s my heart, O, take and seal it

Seal it for Thy courts above.IMG_6801


Baba Yaga

I love this post from The Hairpin.Baba-child

I still can’t believe that Ada was inside of me. My body grew her and birthed her. That is absolutely mysterious and magical.


(Photo by amazingly talented The Fishers Handmade)

Welcome Ada Caroline!

After many years of hoping and praying, Ada Caroline Roser joined us on August 26 at 1:51 a.m.. She was 9 pounds even and 20.5 inches long.




It was incredibly surreal to meet her in person after getting to know her in utero for so many months. It’s still surreal that we have another tiny person in our family. We are settling into a really wonderful routine and going for lots of walks around the neighborhood. Sometimes when I look at her my heart feels like it’s going to burst and other times I am so exhausted I can barely keep my eyes open while nursing her. It’s the best.

Happy New Year!


Summer garden

Here’s a few photos of our garden this summer.

Ryan added a little run for our chickens on the side of the coop. They love it!


Early summer.



We also added a trellis for green beans! They climbed up all the way to the top!