Two accidents in one week? Yep.

In the last week, we've been in two car accidents.   I was rear-ended last week and four days later, my husband was driving my car and was t-boned.  Car totaled.  Husband was OK, miraculously!  It's quite weird, I've only been in one other accident my entire life, my car was backed into at a stop sign (yes, the guy was backing up at a stop sign), so to be dealing with two accidents, one of them severe, in one week has been quite tiring. 

The funny thing is, we sold my husband's car last week, in anticipation of buying me a van this week.  Ya know, I kind of need a Mom-mobile.  When I got rear-ended, with India in the car and pregnant with our second baby, we were very grateful I had nothing more than a sore neck and headache.  We were also proud that our little Honda Fit got scuffed up a little bit, when the truck that hit me got his front bumper pushed in.  Thankfully, our car was fine and drivable, so our plan of having one car over the weekend until we could buy a van was unscathed. 

Unfortunately, that little car just wasn't meant to live.  Dallas was t-boned on Monday.  In some crazy act, he CALLED me while being told not to move.  The first thing I hear on the phone is people yelling and talking and then my husband saying something about "some blood from his head, maybe it's just his ear".  He then tells me he wasn't going to make it home in time to watch India while I taught piano lessons because he was in an accident.  I was quite unnerved, but I figured it couldn't have been that bad because he called me.  An officer called a bit later and clarified some things.  He told me a Suburban hit our little Honda Fit.  Ouch.  My husband was taken by ambulance to the hospital and the officer told me where the car was towed to.

The whole thought of "oh crap, that was our only vehicle" hadn't even crossed my mind until Dallas called me after a while and needed to get home from the hospital.  (Remember, we sold Dallas' car, getting ready to buy me a van?)

Oh.  Now what?  I was carless and couldn't go pick him up.  My poor husband, who was brought to the emergency room in an ambulance, walked home in the freezing, windy weather from the hospital.  I felt horrible, but I was helpless.

The thought of how severe the accident was didn't cross my mind until my husband came home and I saw the look on his face and heard the details of it all - or what he could remember.  We thanked God he had minimal injuries and that India and/or I weren't with, because the outcome would not have been good. 

RIP little Honda Fit!  You were a great car! 

Life is good, we're thankful that we're alive and healthy - all four of us!

Now begins the search for a new van AND a new car!

Have you ever been in an accident? 

 

Birthday Surprise: Honeymoon Hotel & The Civil Wars

If any of you remember, I happened to turn 30 earlier this month.  It wasn't emotional or anything and I survived turning an age that I remember my mother turning and thinking to myself at the time "Oh my gosh, she's SO old.  Almost, like, Grandma-old." 

Remember how I told you how I return gifts all.the.time so my husband had preemptively planned a birthday surprise for me that I wouldn't be able to return? 

Yeh.  He did an AH-MAZING job! 

He brought me to Minneapolis and sent me off to do whatever I wanted all day while he was at a workshop.  It was really fun to window shop for a couple of hours then spend the afternoon huddled in a small coffee shop reading blogs, studies and articles.  He thought I'd love several uninterrupted hours to get lost in the latest parenting and childbirth trends.  He was right!

Later that afternoon we went out to eat and he brought me to our hotel.  The hotel we stayed at happened to be the very same hotel we stayed at on our honeymoon the night we got married!  How romantical, right?  He scored a million points for that one!

He still refused to tell me what my surprise was (as if all that wasn't enough already).  As we drove downtown later that night, getting ready to go to my big surprise that anticipation was killing me!  I could hardly wait and was so nervous I was shaking!  I was SO excited to see what he had planned.  He let me take a couple of guesses. Cirque du Soleil?  Rock N' Roll Dueling Pianos?  But I was wrong on all those guesses.

As we approached our destination, lights and people EVERYWHERE, he made me close my eyes.  Not that I would've noticed.  I was too excited and giddy. 

We parked our car and walked amongst tons of Tyler Perry fans (Tyler Perry was in town - should've guessed that one, too).  As we approached my surprise, he made me look down and he guided me along.  Suddenly we stopped and he told me to look up and this is what I saw:

The Civil Wars in concert!

My husband had not only pulled off the impossible (surprising me) but the incredible, by taking me to The Civil Wars!!!  The Civil Wars are quite possibly our favorite band right now and have restored my hope that there are some out there with pure talent in a music industry.  A music industry that perpetuates perfect pitch and beats, all brought forth by a computer.  The Civil Wars are raw, harmonious folk vocals, accompanied by a guitar and the occasional jaunt on the keys.   Pause: if you aren't familiar with The Civil Wars listen to this song.

I got tears in my eyes as I held his hand (obviously, I don't get out much) and we went up at got our tickets scanned.  I just kept smiling while we got our drinks and were seated in the beautiful State Theatre. 

The beautiful State Theatre, waiting for The Civil Wars to start!

As we sat and waited for the concert to begin, Dallas explained it all to me; how he had to delete any messages he wrote to people while coordinating this whole thing, how he changed his passwords so I wouldn't know anything and even how he used a new credit card to pay for our room at the hotel.

As he talked I remembered that The Civil Wars tour had sold out and wondered how he got not only tickets, but tickets about 10 rows up in the center aisle.  He told me it really was a miracle.  :-)

Milo Greene opened for them, and they were quite impressive.  I look forward to hearing more of them.  The Civil Wars stole the show with every single song.  Their performance of "Barton Hollow" left the whole theatre in uproarious applause.

In the end, my husband succeeded at surprising me, getting me a gift I would love and there's no way I'd want to return it!  It's a gift I'll never forget!  Thank you, Dallas!

At The Civil Wars concert.  Ignore the flash blasting our eyes in the dim theatre.

Wordless Wednesday: 2 years ago this week

2 years ago this week, I told my husband I had a bump on my tummy (or maybe in) and I needed him to check it out for me!

India Josephine's birth story

How I WISH I was one of those women who go to the hospital, talking and joking and having light contractions every 10 minutes and find out they are 6 cm dilated. I hate women like that. Maybe not hate. Maybe hate. They talk about how labor wasn’t that bad, how it didn’t hurt until they were 7 or 8cm. How I WISH I was one of those women that went to a doctor appointment and found out that I was dilated to a full 4cm! How I WISH that I was one of those women that only have to suffer through 4 hours of intense contractions, and then they have a baby in their arms. How I WISH I was one of those women who have light contractions, and then suddenly, they are 3cm dilated. I am not one of those women. I am the very opposite of that.

This is my story of the birth of my daughter, India Josephine.

I wanted my baby to be born on July 7, 2010, so it would have the birth date of 7/7/10. I come from a long line of females for labor intensively for over 24 hours with their first child, so when July 6th arrived, I knew that wasn’t probably going to happen.

On Wednesday, July 7th, I was pretty down, hot, could barely walk as my hips were literally turning out of socket and in lots of pain from that. I had been having contractions. I decided to go to church and help my husband with youth group that evening in spite of feeling awful. We knew it was going to be a small group, so we were going to take it easy and take the kids to a local ice cream joint. While we were there, I felt it.

It. My water started leaking.

At about 7pm, I went to the bathroom, walking slowly, because I was petrified there was going to be an explosive gush, like in the movies, and I would permanently scar all the youth group kids. I even brought my water bottle with me to the bathroom, in case I needed to ‘accidently’ drop it if there was the gush I was so fearful of. When I got things under control in the bathroom, I texted Dallas from there, knowing I couldn’t talk to him with all the kids around. As I walked back to the table they were sitting at, he calmly told everyone we should head back to the church and finish talking there.

Several girls rode in my car on the way back to the church. We sang the song on the radio, and I couldn’t even sing the right words because I was so preoccupied! The girls laughed pretty hard.

Soon after I dropped the girls off at church, I went home and began packing. I had been having contractions all day, but that wasn’t anything that spectacular. As soon as my water broke I started cramping and contractions were about 4-5 minutes apart.

I started installing the baby’s car seat in between contractions, while I was fuming mad that it hadn’t been installed weeks earlier like I had been asking. Suddenly, some neighbors stopped on their leisurely stroll, wanting to chat. I was in no mood, and as kindly as I could, ended the conversation and went back to wrestling with the car seat, in the heat, in between contractions, cussing under my breath.

Dallas soon joined me at home, cleaning the house, packing and doing all the things I had asked him to do the weeks before but he had procrastinated on. :-) I smile about it now, but I was not happy about it.

At 9:30pm, I began lightly shaking in between contractions at this point. I texted my doula, Crystal telling her what was happening and that if she had time, she could call me back. No biggie. She called me back, and I spent most of the conversation trying to tell her that it was probably nothing and that quite often a woman’s water will break, but she won’t go into labor for days.

I was sure that was me. I was also in denial of all the contractions I was experiencing.

I finally showered, and around 11:00 or 11:30pm, decided to go to bed, “just in case”. I couldn’t rest because the contractions were starting to get painful. At this point I was kicking myself for not going to bed at 8pm.

By 2am, I could no longer be quiet during contractions, and woke Dallas up with my moaning and pacing. Contractions were averaging about 3 minutes apart and about 1 minute long at this point. I also started vomiting and shaking in between contractions. And once the vomiting was done, it turned to dry heaves. I kept trying to drink water to stay hydrated, but if I took a little sip, I paid for it violently. I wasn’t resting at all in between contractions because I was either vomiting or shaking. I barely talked much from this point on.

At 3:45am, I texted my doula Crystal (it took me several contractions to just get a little text out) and told her my current status. Crystal called me and I remember trying to fake it through a contraction, but ended up throwing my phone down on my bed and walking into another room and moaning through it so she wouldn’t hear me. I was trying to be very tough. I didn’t want anyone to know that I was in pain, already. We decided I would contact her in 20 minutes and update her. Contractions were about 2 minutes apart, and almost 1 minute long.

I don’t remember a lot of details very clearly after this, so the rest of this is a compilation of my memories, my doula’s account and my husband’s memory and notes.

At 4:20am, Dallas called Crystal and told her that I was requesting her. Crystal said that when she arrived I was moaning through contractions, but my appearance was strong and powerful. She noticed the shaking and unfortunately, she saw and heard a lot of the puking.

We decided to head to the hospital, which was about 45 minutes away. It took me a while to even get up and even longer to go down the two steps outside my house. My goal was to labor at home as long as I could, and head to the hospital when things were getting close.

Little did I know, I was nowhere near close, even though my contractions were 1 and a half minutes apart and about 1 minute long. I was dreading the ride to the hospital, and rightfully so.

Dallas drove 80 mph, according to my doula, and I breathed and puked and shook and prayed the whole way there. Since I felt better stretching and being upright during contractions, at one point I had thoughts of opening the car door so I could stretch my legs out. I think I even tried to do it and Dallas stopped me. Good thing, because I would’ve probably jumped out of our fast-moving car; I was desperate to stretch and relax.

Puking at home, in the car, in the parking lot and outside the emergency room door, left me exhausted and delirious.

Had I been exhibiting signs of transition?  Nausea, vomiting, shaking, hot/cold changes, fatigue, restless, unable to communicate, contractions less than 2-3 minutes apart, and I had also had to back-to-back contractions.

You can imagine my surprise when I arrived at the hospital around 6am, and was checked for dilation.

Not even at 2cm. I kept my head about me, and didn’t let it get to me too much. When they briefly hooked me up to the contraction monitor, my contractions were nice and hot, and we had only just begun.

The first nurse I had I wanted to punch in the face.  Or the vagina or something.  She was in my face and insistent that I shouldn't close my eyes through contractions and needed to pick a focal point.  "I have my damn focal point and it's getting you and your stanky breath out of my face!" I thought. Thankfully, her shift ended and I got a calm, respectful, quiet nurse that just sat and let me labor.

The nurse offered me a relaxant, I said no, even though I would’ve killed for any relief at that point. I considered myself well-suited for natural childbirth. I've had several abscessed teeth, and had a tooth that broke in half while I was eating and exposed the nerve and we couldn’t afford to fix it so I lived in delirious amounts of pain for 2 weeks. I also had an illness where parts of my skin had died, fallen off, yes fallen OFF and developed wet gangrene. Very painful. They say childbirth is the most painful experience in the world, and I would have to agree.  But it was also AMAZING.

My midwife would appear silently, supporting me with her quiet strength, letting me labor in peace. I also had a great nurse (once the night shift nurse left – Praise God!) who just let me be. At some point, someone suggested I go in the bathtub because I asked about pain meds. I agreed, but was out within a couple of contractions because I felt too confined and I couldn’t stand during my contractions. I later went into the big birthing tub, but for some reason at that point I didn’t enjoy that either.

They checked me again at 9:10am, and I was finally at two centimeters. The next bit of time I remember very clearly because I had a LOT of emotion packed into it! I was upset that after 3 intense hours of contractions, puking and constant shaking, I hadn’t really progressed. Everyone kept telling me to just relax and let my body work, and I was getting pissed. I was as excited about this as I could be: I had been anticipating labor and birth – all of it – for a long time. I had memorized verses, was praying constantly, and watch so many videos on natural childbirth. If anyone wanted to relax and enjoy this, it was me. I was as relaxed as I could be for being in labor. I had a great husband, doula, and midwife and was in a hospital with my midwife who is well-known for little to no interventions. I didn’t appreciate these comments, because I was doing all I could, it’s just that my body had taken over. I had been envisioning all the things you are supposed to – your cervix gently opening, your new baby, but nothing would stop the involuntary shaking.

For about 12 hours, nearly every muscle in my body was tight and tense, and I couldn’t do a dang thing about it.

God gave women breaks in between contractions to catch their breath, to rest and maybe to help keep their sanity. I didn’t have breaks because as soon as a contraction would peak, the shaking would start, followed by vomiting. The shaking would slow down, just as the next contraction would hit me. It was my warning sign that I was about to get hit with a wave again.  My body would not relax no matter how much I told it to or used mental imagery or prayer. I was clearly remembering the muscle relaxant that the nurse had offered me initially.

I asked my midwife if I should take the relaxant, and she thought I should consider because I wasn’t able to rest in between contractions, and that was when my cervix was supposed to be opening.

Dallas, who was such a great and supportive partner, was trying every distraction technique to keep me away from that muscle relaxant. Before going into labor, I had made him promise that he wouldn’t let me take anything during labor. I could barely talk, because I couldn’t catch my breath, but I told Dallas VERY FIRMLY that I was deciding, and that I was going to take that relaxant!

I argued with him that maybe I was like the long lineage of females in my family, who just don’t dilate until over 30 hours of labor, and then they finally do because of taking pain medications. I remembered my sister didn’t have any strength to push after laboring for so long, and was threatened with a c-section if she didn’t take medication. I didn’t know how long the hospital would let me labor for and if they would push a c-section, something that I greatly dreaded.

I took the muscle relaxant at 9:30am. They told me that in 10 minutes I’ll notice it. I don’t know what I was supposed to notice, because after 20 minutes, I was still shaking. But slowly, the shaking and vomiting stopped!!! I was able to relax and catch my breath in between contractions!! It was amazing!  Labor was now manageable because I could finally breathe!

Stupidly, I thought that because I took it, I would feel less pain. That didn’t happen. At all. Just when I thought my body was going to get a break, things got worse. My contractions went full force now, making up for lost time, because my body was able to relax and begin to dilate.

By 10am I was dilated to 3cm! Dallas and I cheered! I was actually resting in between contractions! That was a miracle and my resolve was strengthened, even if I couldn’t outwardly show it! I remember thinking how unfair it was that some women were dilated this far without even knowing, and I had painstakingly worked for this for many hours.

My contractions intensified as I dilated quickly, and spent time rubbing my lower back, but those contractions as tough as they were, so painful you can’t even breathe or make any noise, I would take 10 hours of those over 1 hour of the previous contractions I had been having! Dallas cried through several of my contractions. I was in too much pain to cry, but SO thankful to have a break between contractions.

By the next exam, around 11:30am, I was dilated to 8cm, and ready to go back in the big tub to give birth, in a little over 2 hours! That was the last time I was checked. We were so excited, and the contractions were still coming. I guess I did mention an epidural, but then said I didn’t really want it and I wanted to get in the tub!  I had been wearing a wrap skirt that I bought in India (little did I know I was about to give birth to a little girl and name her India) and quickly exchanged it for a hospital gown for my walk to the birthing tub.

The tub room was peaceful, quiet, dimly lit, worship music played, and Dallas fanned me with a Chinese fan as I entered at 11:50am. My midwife, doula, Dallas and a nurse all waited quietly and patiently as I moaned through contractions and tried to breathe. The water was so tranquil. I asked my midwife if I was doing it right. She encouraged me that I was doing everything perfect. Her presence gave me immense peace. I could feel her looking at me, and in some strange way, could feel her supporting me, without saying anything.

I also kept apologizing to everyone for yelling during contractions. I remember they had confused looks on their faces and then all told me that I wasn’t yelling, I was quietly moaning and I was doing great and full of peace. In my mind, it felt loud, although I felt very peaceful in my heart.

I remember saying “oh shit” twice as I braced for contractions and I’m surprised I didn’t say it more! :-) I had no idea when transition started, because many of the contractions had the same intensity and I had been exhibiting signs of transition since I checked into the hospital!  Nothing felt different from 2cm to 8cm.

I started pushing as soon as I was in the tub, kneeling on my knees, with my hands bearing down on the sides of the tub. The desire to push was a relief!!! After every contraction, I’d sink forward or lay back and fall asleep, for a bit, until the next contraction would jolt me awake. I never understood hearing stories of women who fell asleep in between contractions, and how that must mean that labor isn’t that tough, but I now understand what a blessing those few seconds are and they are there because labor is SO tough!

I started telling them that the baby was coming, so the nurse took a peek and said the baby’s head would soon start to crown. I felt with my own hand, a little squishy head. I can still imagine what that little head felt like!

After another contraction or two, Dallas left the room to get a notebook to continue to write down details. I had a contraction while he was gone. I remember jolting awake, looking for him in his spot right next to me, saw he wasn’t there, but my body was taking over.

The next thing I remember is feeling my baby’s head in my hands underneath the water. In a split second, I closed my eyes and continued pushing until I had my whole baby, in my hands, under the water. I caught my own baby!

“I have the baby!” I said.  My nurse, midwife and doula stirred quickly in disbelief.  “She has the baby!” “WHAT?” “Get Dad in here!”  The nurse went to leave the room, just as Dallas was entering.  I remember keeping the baby under the water, because I didn’t want to bring the baby up without him there.  Just as he was walking in, I pulled the baby out of the water.  My gentle midwife forcefully told me VERY loudly, “Give me the baby, the cord’s around its neck!!”  I held the baby for her (no one even had gloves on because she came SO quickly!!), and she unwrapped the cord quickly and started handing the baby to me. 

My midwife, Jeanne, unwrapping the umbilical cord

Someone asked the sex of the baby while my midwife was handing me the baby, and I looked at Dallas for the answer, and through tears he said, “Genny, it’s a girl!” just as I was bringing her to my chest to kiss her and adore her. We stayed in the tub for a bit, and she nursed right away, while Daddy cried and touched both of us. We just stared at her. I don’t even know what else happened because we just kept our eyes on our baby girl. We were beaming!

About 10 mintues after birth

She scored great on her apgars, weighing in at 7lbs, 8oz and 20 inches long. She was born at 12:37pm on July 8, after over 17 hours of labor (I know I was having contractions all day on the 7th, but I just count from the point of when my water broke). I was incredibly proud of myself for giving birth, feeling like I had just joined the ranks of other super women, billions of us, spanning the course of time.

I felt so blessed to have gone through the labor process, feeling every minute of it and laboring with supportive people around me. I was ready to go through it all over again instantly as I sat in the tub with India, and I knew what other mothers meant when they said that once you hold that baby it will be so worth it – she was and is!

We made our way back to my hospital room, where we spent the afternoon (and every day since) adoring and kissing our little girl – God’s marvelous, precious, perfect creation. I’m thankful for every minute of my labor and I’d do it all over again for her, every day. She is worth all that and more.

Beautiful girl.  By birthing skirt, from India, is in the background

A root canal, a flight and a blizzard

My husband was scheduled to leave for Ghana, Africa today to speak at a youth retreat. He spent a lot of time preparing for it, and was very excited to meet the kids he was going to be spending the next few days with. 

A possible glitch in our plans were two back-to-back storms, slated to hit us and quite possibly leave us debilitated for days, thereby hindering our trip to the airport, or even delaying a flight.

With the impending blizzard that was supposed to begin today, we were feeling pressure to make it to the airport and back home before the blizzard hit.  With the entire state talking about this nasty blizzard, my protective Dad decided he would be our chauffeur in his giant, diesel, four wheel drive pickup truck. 

I ended up scheduling my root canal on my abscessed tooth for the this morning, because my dentist is in a town on the way to the airport. That way Dallas and my Dad could watch India while I had the procedure done, and we could be on our way.  And we would save gas.

After my root canal was finished (which was my most painful to date because they couldn't numb me all the way because of the abscess), we had plenty of time to feed India and get me some breakfast with about 3 hours to spare until Dallas had to be dropped off at the airport. 

We planned perfectly.

We made our way towards the airport and decided to stop for lunch at a different Thai restaurant than the one we normally go to.  It was a horrible mistake!  My Dad ordered Stir Fried Potatoes with Beef and got a couple slices of beef, with a scoop of GRAVY, all on a bed of potato chips.  WHAT THE ???  I could write a blog post just about this because it was so horrendous.  I doubt my Dad will ever have Thai food again thanks to me.

As we left the "restaurant", Dallas decided to check the Delta website and found out his flight to Atlanta was delayed by two hours.  It took us a second to realize that because his flight was delayed, he would then miss his flight from Atlanta to Ghana. 

I've arranged enough international flights to know that this isn't a good situation because direct flights to countries like Ghana are hard to come by - especially over a holiday.

Deep pit in my stomach.

Dallas gets a hold of a Delta representative, who assures us that the next flight to Ghana is in 2 days, and he can have a spot on that flight. Dallas explains that he has to get on that flight from Atlanta tonight because he is speaker at a retreat, and it he needs to be there! She says every flight is booked and she can't help him.

She tells him sorry, but that's his only choice.


All the while, I'm whisper-yelling things like "but it's THEIR issue, they need to fix it" and "they better reimburse every penny of this flight and throw in additional vouchers" and "tell her you need a flight on another airline then - no exceptions".
 
It's a good thing Dallas had his bluetooth on, because I was about to reach up and grab the phone myself and start doing some Angry Wife talking.

Around this time, I updated my Facebook status, asking people to pray for me.  Well, it wasn't really for me, it was for the whole situation, but I couldn't explain that at the moment - and I didn't want our hosts to see anything and panic.  We were already all freaking out enough about the blizzard and the possibility of flight delays.

I also texted a couple of close friends some of the details and asked for their prayers.

My Dad, Dallas and I then talked for a second about stopping and contacting our hosts, but Dallas decides he wants to get to the airport as soon as possible and talk to someone face to face.  My Dad suggests that he call Delta again and try another representative, and Dallas does just that.

This representative does some digging, and comes up with a flight to Cincinnati, then finds a flight from Cincinnati to Atlanta. 

All in time for him to catch his original flight from Atlanta to Ghana!

Excitement!  Then we find out the flight to Cincinnati leaves at 3:10pm, and it's 2:15pm and we are stuck in traffic! 

EEK!

Another pit in my tummy!  

Dallas decides to take the flight anyway, as it's his only hope of getting to Ghana this year (ha ha), while I'm madly arranging Dallas' stuff and my Dad is trying to work his way quickly (in his ginormous truck) through traffic (in not the best weather)! 

While driving, I'm giving my nice, sweet, kind husband a talk about being aggressive. I even brought to his memory instances of times in our previous travels where I have been sweet, but aggressive and saved us from missing flights.  

2:27pm - We get to the airport, unload his luggage, swat him on the butt, and I tell him to HURRY!  And I told him I loved him too.  And maybe I didn't really swat him on the butt.  But now, I wish I would've because that would make this story a lot cooler.

I spend the next 40 minutes praying, sweating and hoping that he gets on that flight.  I know the chances are grim.  I can't bear to look at my phone after 3pm because I know soon I will hear if he made it or not. 

3:03pm - I receive a text.

"I made it....just barely."

At that moment, I was so happy!  Words can't describe it.

Our next hurdle of the day, battling the blizzard, was about to begin, but it was small in comparison to getting Dallas to Ghana! 

 

The drive home was fine until we hit a town a little over an hour away from our house.  The road was now covered in glare ice.  It took us a couple hours to get home, but we made it - SAFELY!  I'm so glad that my Dad was with, driving his big truck, and helping me stay level-headed when I wanted to stress in that dilemma.

A lot of things attempted to deter my husband from getting on that flight, but thankfully, the storm didn't interrupt his travel plans, he was gently aggressive, made all his connecting flights and is at this very moment, on a flight to Ghana!

Thank you to every single one of you who saw my post on Facebook and prayed for us - even when you had no idea what to pray!  I am SO grateful for your prayers!!!  I knew God knew exactly what we needed.  And I knew God knew exactly what these students needed! 

And PRAISE BE TO GOD, for looking out for all of us, for providing in what looked like grim circumstances, and answering the cries of our hearts.

Dallas will be a blessing to these guys.  I can't wait to see what God does in all of their lives.  After all the effort and opposition, I know it's going to be INCREDIBLE!