I have been asked several times since we packed up our whole lives and moved our family of 6 from NC to FL almost 2 months ago, why would we do something so extreme if we never wanted to leave what we loved in the first place.  I am guessing those questions arrived from previous Facebook posts about the extreme rain that we've had and comments such as I miss home and of course the plethora of emojis used to describe how much I miss my people.  I have been told by several that you can feel the deep emotion I carried when I decided to write about the beginning stages of this journey and how sad leaving everything we loved behind actually was.

I cannot deny the hardness or the deep ache that I sometimes still feel in large waves when I reflect over the last few months.  I also cannot deny that our home here in Florida doesn't feel like home and if I lay in bed late at night and remember the street I used to live on, tears still fill my eyes because I truly miss that place on Tanbridge Road.  I also cannot deny that I have spoken to someone via phone or text from our previous town almost every day since we moved and that in itself has brought much needed comfort.

So why did we do it?

Today, my girls were out of school due to a maintenance issue and given that this was their first full week of "real" school for these former homeschoolers, I was ecstatic to have another pool day with my girls.  After some serious fun in the sun, we made our way back to the apartment.  This short walk always seems daunting for my 3 year old because she is so worn out from all of the `swimming, therefore everything, including her feet, weighs about 100 pounds.  So you can imagine the extreme whining that takes place on the excursion back.  With every step she rattles off almost every excuse not to keep going.  Anything from I'm hungry or I too tired to My feet won't work.  But with every excuse as to why she can't keep going, she continues to put one foot in front of the other.  Once inside, she knows what will come next... nap time.  As she tries to state her case of why she does not need to go night night, she looks me in the eyes, grabs my shoulders to step into her dry undies, and continues to climb into bed, snuggles herself with her blanket and begins to cry.  As I begin to shut the door, I can see her roll over toward the wall, onto her side as she cries one last plea of frustration.

As I shut my daughter's door today, I couldn't help but to discover the very answer that I have been asked over and over upon moving here.  I had explained it in probably many ways, but this was the first time that He had taken something that seemed complicated in my brain and made it very simple.

An act of obedience isn't always without complaint or groans or questions of why it has to happen this way.  In our experience, an act of obedience has often resembled those in the Bible.  More times than not, when God has asked Wade and I to step in obedience it hasn't been a quick decision or a rapid thought that has entered our mind.  It may have began with an initial thought but it usually follows with a long process.  With every step of obedience has come sacrifice in some area of our life and through this sacrificial obedience has come much growth in our spiritual walk with Jesus.  It's hard and its pruning and it doesn't feel good all the time.

BUT.

Every time, hindsight has shown us in the past 7 years that God is good and because He can see the whole picture He can make decisions that seem to scatter our lives but in reality these decisions are making us whole.

So there is my answer.  Just as my 3 year old walks in obedience despite her complaints, she knows that I love her and that I have taken care of her thus far in her little life.

How much more does my Heavenly Father love me?
SO. MUCH. MORE.

This is why we came.  This is why we packed up a 26 foot truck and left behind what we loved to venture into the unknown.  We trust Him and when He says go, YOU GO.  We may have fought it with our words and our thoughts and we may even have days in the future when we continue to question what He is doing and why He has us here.  Ultimately, we know that He is trustworthy and no matter the sacrifice we make, it doesn't compare to the sacrifice He made when He chose US on the Cross.  Jesus delivered the most important act of obedience when He said YES to the Father that day in the Garden.

When you sit on that one thought, no act of obedience or sacrifice can ever compare to what He did for us.




And just to be clear...
Florida is slowly growing on me.  We miss our friends and family like crazy but we are starting to find some really awesome places and people that make this unknown place feel more and more like home.  We are thankful for what God is showing us and what He is continuing to do in our lives to make way for His ultimate plan.  We are just the vessel and if our act of obedience makes way for the purpose He has of bringing freedom and victory to others, then any sacrifice is worth it.

Plus, with each Home Goods purchase this box feels more and more like a home. :)

Today, we have officially lived in the Sunshine State of Florida for one month.
(This is humorous given that it has rained 80 percent of our time here.)

It's hard to believe that just 4 weeks ago we packed up everything we owned and left the place we love to go on God's great adventure once again.   I remember moving day like yesterday and the very thought still brings strong emotions to the forefront.  I cried when we pulled out of our driveway for the last time watching the moving van load its final load before the drastic haul down South.  I will always remember the prayer from my sweet friend as she wiped away tears from my face standing in the foyer for the very last time.  Just one hour before this very moment, I had nursed my baby in the carpeted floor of our bare bedroom, reminiscing over the weekend when we had moved in and those walls that were once covered with a hideous safari green.  For the last time, we had eaten Chick-fila with our close friends, standing up in our kitchen, fighting over the Chick-fila Sauce while watching the movers through the garage window and offering them a chicken sandwich.  As each box left, the smells of the empty house reminded me of that very day we had closed on our first Wilmington home, just two years (to the date) prior.

As the last load was being carried out, I decided to walk the halls once more and as I did, tears streamed down my face as I let go of what was before in order to step into what was to become.

I prayed over each room and I asked that the same blessings that were given to us in that little home, would multiply for the next buyer and that she would appreciate those walls as much as we did.  As my friend and I stood praying, crying and letting go, I could feel His strength well up inside of me like never before, ready to carry me through the journey ahead.

We spent that last 12 hours with family and friends living it up, soaking up every last ounce of the town that we loved and the people that filled it.  We met friends at the park the evening before we left and all I can say about this was it will forever be imprinted in our minds.  Your words, your faces, your encouragement, your tears... all of it.  You stole our hearts in 4 years, but that memory, that moment when we stood back and saw all of you people there to celebrate our new season, that will be remembered for a lifetime.

The next day and a 12 hour drive later, we had arrived in our new town.  As we drove through the sky line of downtown Tampa around 10:30 that evening, I wiped back my own tears because I was overwhelmed, scared and uncertain by my new normal.  I couldn't possibly fathom how this small town girl was going to make it in such unfamiliar circumstances.  Just before 11pm, we pulled up to our apartment.  Our new home.  The home I had yet to even see.  I believe God had us arrive at night so that I couldn't see "the whole picture" and try to figure it all out.  He simply wanted me to climb up those stairs, go straight into our new place and call it a day.  Tomorrow, would bring new perspective and daylight and He knew it...  Things are a lot less intimidating when the light enters in.

That night, surrounded by boxes, we poured cheap wine into coffee mugs and rested in our new city.  It was overwhelming and sad and exciting and scary and adventurous all in one, but what we recognized right away was that God had been preparing us all along the way.

God had sent Wade 32 days prior to our new city.  He had gone before us, just as our Father does.  He had walked through all of the emotions of being scared and lonely and homesick.  Therefore, in the upcoming weeks, when us ladies would feel those same emotions (but intensified of course because we are women), Wade could then help us walk through them.  Otherwise, I think we would have been one big mess, packed it all back up and called it a short vacation.

Over the past four weeks, we have journeyed this new life together.  We have grown closer as a family in ways that we never imagined and we have navigated through some of the hardest, but yet best of the best times.  We have seen first hand that despite how we may feel, God has us here for a divine purpose and we are excited about the days ahead.

In upcoming weeks, I hope to write about all that God has shown us thus far in our Florida journey and the beginning visions of why we think we are here.  And like most of my 33 years, once again God has highlighted that man may plan his path, but God will determine the steps.

I hope that our story encourages others who are navigating or are about to navigate through unchartered waters.  Possibly, our story will give you the motivation you need to propel you into something that God is calling you to do.  I hope that this glimpse into our life will somehow help you to know that as we may face fear, God has a plan and has gone before us.  As it's been said many of times by some of my favorite people...

Courage is not the absence of fear.  Courage is doing it afraid.

Thanks for journeying with us.

Love,
The Nagy's

Well, a dose of reality finally hit me today.  I think that although I have missed my husband greatly, having the comfort of friends and family to surround and love on me during this time has had me floating around on a surreal cloud of denial, not willing to admit the cold hard truth that I will be moving 641 miles south to a place that I have only stepped foot in for less than 72 hours.

That cloud of denial ended once the smell of cardboard started to invade my home and the goodbyes started coming in quickly from all the special people in our lives.

A good friend from out of town came last week and helped me pack up.  She started when I was at a doctors appointment and when I returned she had so many boxes already packed and bear shelves were staring me down in sadness.  I don't know why this caught me off guard so much... but that is when the inner sting began and I realized that although this was a hard initial act of obedience... it was about to get even harder before it gets easier.  From that time last Thursday until today, I have walked through more emotions than I knew I had.

Moving is hard.  I get that.  I remember feeling the same way when we moved from my childhood hometown to our dream city of Wilmington.  But this time... well it just seems so much more difficult.

Over the past few months I have surrendered my hopes and dreams of what I wanted to "do" to this whole house of ours.  At one time, there was even a hashtag devoted to all of the renovations and goals we had set for this little ranch home of ours.  I walked through for weeks letting my dreams go and giving those over to the Lord saying out loud His promises.  That one day, we would see our dreams of having a home come to pass.

I said goodbye to our Christian school that we had prayed about and literally fought for with all of our financial being to keep our first born in a an environment where she could grow in the things of the Lord and be secure in who she is, while being homeschooled part-time so that she could learn what being a BIG sister really means.  I said goodbye to all of this and once again spoke the words out loud, that God would restore this dream and that He is a much greater Daddy than we could ever be.  He would provide.

I grew and took great pride in a business of redoing furniture.  A gift that I never really knew I had, but found myself loving every minute of it.  I surrendered it once I found out we were moving.  I knew that God was asking me to lay it down for a season.  And it hurt.  I didn't want to give it up, but I once again stated out loud His promises.  One day He would pick it back up when the time was right and it would flow with even more favor than it had before.

And most recently, the stuff.  Over the last 4 days it is almost as if my belongings have grown legs and walked up out of this house of mine.  Wilmington Yard Sales and I have become BFF on Facebook and the girls have grown more and more confused at how many strangers have come to haul off so many things that carry much more than a price tag.  But a memory.  There was the table that I had purchased from a yard sale right out of college that I paid $25 for and struggled to pay that with my new teacher salary.  There was the rug that we began homeschool Kindergarten on and learned how to read while sitting criss cross apple sauce.   There was the blanket chest that we had purchased just two short weeks after our honeymoon.  And so many more.

But out of all this hardness... the thing that wrecks me the most is the people.  I cannot even begin to describe in words how hard this has been to say goodbye to so many people in this town.

When the Lord moved us here just 5 years ago, I remember very clearly standing in the kitchen of our new rental home and crying to Wade about not knowing anyone.  I questioned whether my shy self could ever meet new friends.  I was terrified to drive on the busy roads and what if I got lost?  I was nervous about going to parks by myself and I was even more afraid that I would not "find my place."  What if no one liked me?  I remember all of these fears like they were swirling through my head yesterday.  Looking back, God has proven His mighty power simply by how He has grown me, strengthened me and given me a voice that I didn't know I had.  He is provided me with boldness and grown me spiritually so much that I know without a doubt that I am not the same person I was just 5 years ago.  But through all of that growth, through all of those mistakes of learning my identity and finding my voice, He has given me such incredible friends and community.

Friends who have loved me through all of the hard places.

You loved me through the job losses, the times when I cussed and fell to my knees in discouragement because this life is just REAL hard sometimes.  You loved my children through some of the most difficult seasons we had yet to experience.  When there wasn't groceries, you provided.  When there wasn't Christmas presents, you gave.  When there was no income, you showed up at our doorstep with open hands.  You cooked dinners for this mama when I had babies.  And when my husband left for Tampa.  You have made my girls smile every Sunday when they came to church.  You have spoken beautiful words over their little faces and have given me more journal entries than I can count that one day when they are older, they will read your powerful words and know that God was speaking directly to them.  You visited us with every hospital visit and some of you even helped me celebrate a special 5 year old while her little sister recovered in the pediatric center from a bad case of the flu.  You filled our backyard with every occasion to celebrate our growing family and you supported every business endeavor we have ever attempted.  You shopped our booth when we needed furniture to be cleared out and you hid your tears when we announced we were moving to Florida, simply because you WANTED to be excited for us, despite the real emotion you may have felt.

I cry as I write this.  I just can't write it all.  There is no possible way to put the last 5 years of greatness into a blog that would justify our thankfulness for each person who has been a part of our journey.

The other day, when my friend and I were packing, we took down Wade and I's engagement photo.  It's huge and we paid a ridiculous amount of money for a picture that is too big and shows our every flaw because it's so close up.  But around that over sized picture are words from those that attended our wedding and written in big, bold letters typed in script writing reads the words "The Journey Begins."  I am pretty sure that Wade and I had no clue as to how good, how difficult, how amazing this journey would truly be.  Nor, did we realize how much those very words would take form in two lives that didn't even think of Jesus that much when we decided to "tie the knot."  It's amazing how God has truly prepared a way for us even when we think we can control it.

So... as we begin this new journey and as I navigate through all of the mixed emotions and the sacrifices that I feel come with each new challenge from the Lord, I want to say THANK YOU.  Thank you for loving us the way that you have loved us.  I know there will always be a part of me that will call Wilmington home, no matter where life takes us.

and so... The Journey Begins.  once more.

I am on my second cup of coffee and my fifth chocolate chip muffin.  I always thought that if I were leaving for a deserted island and could only take one thing that it would be caffeine.  This season of living the single life has proven to differ.  let's just hope that when I join my hubs in Tampa that the only wardrobe shopping will be because I need something new, not a bigger waist line. :)

When I was little I spent most of my days at our family barn.  While mom and dad did their thing, us kids put our imagination to good use out in the woods off of a near by horse pasture.  What we created was a home.  It had floors, a mailbox and even an old, rusty wood stove.  I loved it.  Leaving was the hardest part and I always begged my parents for just 5 more minutes of play time.  I remember that as I got older I played there less and less until we no longer spent much time at the "hide away home."  We would drop in every now and then and I would walk back to that section of the woods.  Trees had grown through the floor, the wood stove sank more and more into the mud and pretty soon, our "home" had overgrown into a pile of junk.  It was sad.  And even though my days were spent doing something that I enjoyed better, it was still really hard for me to let go of what was past.  I will always have those memories, but watching it change right before my eyes was hard on my heart.

When I was in 8th grade, my parents decided to build a garage on the left side of our house.  I was so excited when they told me the news.  I had always loved making a home prettier and now we were going to have a real driveway, you know, concrete instead of gravel, that I could ride my bike up and down.  Possibly, I could have a basketball goal, even though I never really liked the sport.  But why not?  We were moving up BIG time.  All of this excitement came to a crashing end once I found out that in order to build the garage, we must cut down the weeping willow trees beside our home.  How could they do that?  Those were the trees that I had spent my childhood days climbing their huge limbs.  Each limb had a different view and if you went really high, the long weeping branches would hide you from everyone around you.  Their big huge roots that stuck out of the ground were where my dog and I would lay together.   His name was Trouble and he was a Lab- St. Bernard mix.  He was gigantic but made to look small when nestled comfortably in those willow roots.  The roots curved around like a fat snake and they were perfect to wrap your body into.  The long branches made awesome fans and feather boas when pretending to be a princess or the Egyptian queen and its leaves were the perfect size to add to my pea soup when cooking from God's nature.  How on earth could my parents erase these precious moments with one day of cutting down these monstrous trees that had spent their whole life forming into something so grand?  But the trees came down, the garage went up and my childhood kept on moving right along.  Pretty soon, I no longer thought about the weeping willows and it was as if the garage had been there all along.

So here we are.   Almost 18 years later and I could write countless books of how many changes and turns my life has taken, especially since making the decision to live for Christ.  But as I write this, I realize that although I have grown from each milestone, it is still very hard for me to cope with change.  I have such strong emotion, such ties to the things, the memories that I love.  My oldest daughter is pretty much my clone as I find my own self frustrated in walking her through the absence of 1 out of 100 stuffed animals that went missing a few weeks ago.  We just get attached to things.

Now, God has me in the waiting room where things are completely unknown.  He is not only asking me to walk away from the things that I love, He is asking me to walk blindly into the things ahead.  This is terribly scary for someone like me, but I am realizing that all along He has been preparing me for a time such as this.  The hideout and the weeping willows are just two of the thousands that He has reminded me of in the last few days.  That when change comes it welcomes excruciating pain within the heart and mind, but it always follows with amazing growth and newness that brings about life to the fullest.

A few weeks ago, I walked through this house and mourned each memory, each mark on the wall and everything I was going to terribly miss.  I had spent so much time in the last two years imagining the walls that would come down, the new flooring that would better our space and the new appliances that would make our kitchen a better home.  Once we realized we were moving to Tampa, I wanted to take a mental picture of every ding, every footprint on the wall and capture every smell and flaw of this whole house that we have spent the last two years making a home.  I cried a lot and Wade was here to endure it.  To walk me through the emotion and to encourage me along the way through this enduring process.

But now he is 662.4 miles away and although FaceTime is a vital necessity to our relationship these days, my emotions come way to often to ring Wade's phone off of the hook, therefore I have been forced to rely on comfort solely from the Lord.  And it's been good.  Hard.  But good.

My house has been extra loud at times and believe me when I say that all hell has tried to come against me in the last few days and it has been anything but easy.  However, I have had an inner peace that comes only from the Lord.   A peace that has allowed me to move forward and push myself to pray more, hand over my feelings in a raw, sometimes un-composed way and spend my quiet time reflecting on how He has been growing me for this very moment all along.

You see, the Lord doesn't just push you out into your destiny without a plan, without preparing you for the journey.  That would be like me pushing my child into the deep end of the pool without giving her any prior swimming lessons.  I just wouldn't do that and neither would the Great Creator.  He has a plan and He has truly gone before us.  He is not going to push me out into deep waters without preparing me beforehand.  Better yet, He helps me to swim when the deep waves get overwhelming.  There are many days that I feel out of control, but I am learning those are the best days.  That He is teaching me to let up my need to control and allow me to come to Him with a clear mind and open hands ready to receive the next steps.  The true example of living day to day without having the NEED for a long term plan.  He is also teaching me to let go.

Over the last few days, I have missed my husband so very much.  But at the same time I have seen His provision while being here "alone."  I have had dinner brought to me by friends, I have had sleep overs full of staying up way too late and I have received countless texts and calls to make sure I am ok.  I am also realizing that with each passing day, the Lord is preparing me to give up the "things" around me and realize that my home is where He leads us.  My home is where we are all united together and when we are in His Will, that is where Life is.

That is what I am after.  To experience LIFE and life to the fullest.  A life that is surrendered and dedicated to my Maker, one that constantly grows, lets go when needed and moves forward until He calls me Home.
My true home.

It's 5am and I am wide awake.  This only happens in my life when I am either 9 months pregnant or I am really wrestling with my thoughts of what God is doing in my life.  I am pleased to report that it is the latter of the two as to why I am up writing at this hour. :)

I have been pondering this blog post for the last 3 weeks.  Just not quite sure of its wording or even if I should do it.  I just didn't have the words yet to explain the fastness of it all and the reality of its hugeness.  However, this morning I have laid in bed remembering the past.  And I realized that in order to embrace the changes in our future, we must first reflect on the past and how MUCH the Lord has done.

It was just 4 short years ago that God's mighty hand moved us to Wilmington.  In some ways in seems like we have lived here our whole lives and in other ways it seems as though it was a blink.  I will always hold dear to my heart that weekend that Wade and I both saw the Lord move in such a miraculous way in our situation.  Going on year 3 of no job, no constant income and truly relying on the Lord to supply every need, we watched as he put a waiter in our path at a restaurant that we debated to go to because we should have been saving our money for groceries.  I still remember that feeling in the pit of my stomach as resumes were being passed and even more when we had the interview out of no where that landed Wade at his first job here at the beach, just two weeks later.  We embraced 32K for a family of 4, like we had just scored a million dollars.   I still remember the day we moved, the excitement in the moving van, the kids waiting to unpack that house, our friends who followed us here to set aside their own tears of sadness to embrace our excitement of this new season.

Our time here has been such a fulfilled blessing.  Within 6 months of living here, we had settled in a church that we loved, we had met families that share our same interest, we had joined a community group and we were also expecting our 3rd born.  Birthday parties were never that same once we moved here.  Let's just say that people in Wilmy follow the "be fruitful" command (as do we) and so it wasn't uncommon to have 20+ kids in our backyard screaming and very few adults at the party.  We have watched our own kids become family to others and those that have spoken into our children's life has been so amazing and needed.

For two years, we lived in a rental that we loved.  We brought home our third baby girl, we planted flowers, we met Emma Jane's speech teacher in the neighborhood, we did evening walks pulling a wagon, I trained for my first Half Marathon, we watched Lela walk for the very first time, we mourned the loss of a cat and we celebrated many milestones, ate many cupcakes, set loose countless balloons and had many fun moments in this home.

On July 4th weekend 2013, just before River's 1st birthday, we finally purchased our first Wilmington Home with the help of my gracious parents.  It was such an exciting weekend.  With boxes surrounding us, I stood behind the swing set pushing the birthday girl and I will always remember the feeling I felt at that very moment.  We had "arrived".  Our back yard was full of love that day and for the first time, I felt like we had planted some deep roots.  Wilmington was HOME and we were so ever grateful.

But with all of the greatness, there has been extreme difficulty.  Wade has been through several jobs, we've experienced several set backs financially due to things that were out of our control. We have started businesses, we have failed at businesses, we have experienced health issues that has sent us spiraling down financially, we have prayed and experienced extreme quietness from the Lord.  We have struggled in ways that at times has made us want to throw our hands up in defeat and call it quits.  We have looked at our girls' faces and smiled, while in the back of our minds wondered if we were ever going to be able to get on our feet financially and provide for them in the way that we needed and wanted.  I have watched Wade struggle with his purpose while trying to figure out why doors seem to slam shut in his career.
But through it all.... we have made it.  
We have learned of His goodness and how He provides through His church.  We have learned how to be creative and do what needs to be done to pay the bill or get the girls ice cream.  We have learned that a short drive down to the water is usually the best medicine when our thoughts surround us and make us believe there is no way out.  We have learned how to work hard, use our hands and that sometimes there is a season of literal sweat before the season of harvest.  And although there have been many times when we felt weary, our family here has held up our arms and supported us in every way.

I could reminisce over the last 4 years over and over, without ever getting to the point of what woke me up at 4am.  I awoke wondering what our next season will look like, feel like and how it would compare to our season here in Wilmington.

Just 3 weeks ago, Wade had an interview in Tampa, Florida.  There is much more to the story that I will save for another post, however very quickly, just like our last big move, we have seen and felt the Lord's hand over it.  We have done very little to "make" this happen.  In all honestly, I sort of slammed my foot down and fought like a little kid unwilling to move my ground.  Deep down, my spirit craves the adventure.  My little self from the time I was a kid has wanted to travel the earth, see the waves of the land and embark on something new all of the days of my life.  But my flesh... well, I just want the American Dream.  Live in the same house, grow up with the same people and watch my kids go to the same schools and do exactly what I did growing up.  I'll even take the white picket fence.

But God.  He always finds a way to challenge us into greater things and push us into our callings.  I have learned that when things get uncomfortable, He is usually about to propel you into your purpose, little by little, through a process.  We can either embrace it through our own fear and trust that He knows what is ahead or we can tuck our necks back into our shells and never know what could have been.  The quote that has been streaming in my head for the past few weeks has been...

This morning my husband told me to read Romans 8.  Seems like a simple, easy task.  I came in from dropping the older two off at their proper destinations, on time of course, which means that when I returned home the tornado of distraction was all around me.  Things out of place, dishes in the sink, beds unmade, laundry everywhere.  But I was determined to spend time with Him.  I straightened the living room up, popped in a movie for the 3rd born and nursed the babe to sleep.  I sat down with my Bible, pen and journal ready to hear from my Father who I desperately needed to be loved on by today.

Then it happened.  The life that surrounds me daily.  The life that I love, the life that I call my own, but the life that is really hard sometimes.  The door slams, the baby wakes up, the movie gets jammed from little fingers in the DVD player, the tot falls off the chair trying to reach the legos that she could swallow and before you know it I have read Romans 8 twice with absolutely no idea what it says, and the only scribble in my journal was that of my toddler when she saw mommy had a pen.

I got up and I acted like the very storm around me.  I called my husband in tears, I sent out a text to my best friend in frustration and I slammed the bouncy seat (with no baby) down on the table and screamed out "WHERE ARE YOU, LORD!?!?" with tears streaming down my face.  As soon as the words left my lips, I heard in my spirit, "I am right HERE with you."

Calmness began to happen even though I still had tears rolling down my face.  I was still frustrated.  I was still asking. I was still mad.  But I felt calmer.  I laid down the idea of a quiet time, turned on worship music and began my daily duties that I do every. single. day.

As I made my bed, I was asking myself why I became so upset.  It's not like the babies planned to ruin mommy's time with the Lord.  They were just doing their job, just as I am supposed to do mine.  But why did it have to be so hard?  I was then drawn to the thoughts I had just prior to sitting down with my Bible in hand.

This morning when I awoke, I checked Instagram.  It was flooded with bloggers who were sitting down with Jesus.  Except what was captured in their picture looked so very different than what was found in my viewfinder.  There was no coffee with a pretty cup or cozy cute socks over looking a beautifully decorated and clean kitchen.  There was no pretty doodling in my journal or a smell good candle burning in the background.  The view I had around me was not Instagram worthy.  Or was it?

How many times do we set ourselves up for failure by setting expectations that God never intends for us to set.   He sets the bar for our lives and too many times we allow comparison to raise that bar to heights and places that He never intended for us to go.  We want things to be perfect.  We want them documented in our social media and our minds as the perfect scenario and that we have it all together.  But really we are one big mess.  Waiting for a Savior to come and speak to us as we slam down the bouncy seat in pure frustration.  It was when I came to the end of myself that I heard His voice.  It was when I lost control of my flesh, laid it all down before Him in my own childish ways that His spirit came in, just like any Good and Loving Father and He took my hand and said I AM HERE, My Daughter.  I am with you.

My time with Him may not be Instagram worthy.  But I am ok with that because it's real.  I am learning that I must recognize my season, just as much as I must recognize the storm that it sometimes brings.  That yes, things are sometimes chaotic right now and I am running on coffee fumes, but He is still here.  He is here in the mundane.  He is here in the bed making and the diaper changing.  He is here with me.

After putting the babe in the swing, making the bed and fixing the dvd player, I sat.  I sat with my computer, writing this blog with worship music playing in almost silence.  My 3rd born danced in front of the TV and my baby smiled at me from across the room.  It took this reckless morning of raw emotions to bring me to this point.  The point of peace.  The Instagram worthy moment.  The moment when I realized that this is what it's about.  The moments in life when you recognize that this life we call our own, really isn't ours to begin with.  That we belong to Him and He loves to allow us to be comforted by Him.  He loves when we lay ourselves down to be wrapped in His love.

Maybe I just needed to write these words for myself.  Maybe for my future self when I slam down another piece of furniture in frustration.  Or maybe for someone else out there who is experiencing the frustration of His silence.  He is with you.  He loves you and He is waiting for you to lay it down at the feet of Jesus in pure surrender that you cannot do it all.  The comparison is the thief of all joy and you must recognize the storm that surrounds you.

Peter, he knew and recognized the storm surrounding him but yet he still got up and walked on water to be with his Savior.  Peter's faith allowed him to take the first few steps, but then the wind began to overwhelm him and his flesh became weak and flooded him with doubt of what God could do.  He then called out to Jesus in despair.  And just as Jesus always does, He reached out his hand to Peter.  And together they walked on water through the storm.

I felt like Peter this morning.  I tried, I failed, I became overwhelmed and He rescued me. Again.  And always.

As i take a break from work this week, i want to catch up on documenting some memories.  because remember, although i love when God uses this blog to speak and touch others, i write because i love looking back on these words and remembering the past seasons, the past celebrations, the hard places and the journey that our family has been on.  I love reading about the many milestones my daughters have achieved and the memories they have made, whether they remember them or not.  and I especially love the pictures.  those once upon a time chubby cheeks that my girls once possessed are priceless memories and I would totally be devastated if blogger ever pulled the plug on this whole blog thing...

so here is our latest work of pure awesomeness, sweetness and just plain beautiful little girl that God has given us to parent.  born october 19, 2014 and already prepared and destined for greatness.





























Photography by Eric Boneske Photography. He is one talented dude.

Since I last wrote, we have welcomed our fourth baby girl into the Nagy mix.  I don't think I need to explain why my posts come and go with months in between.  However, when the Lord speaks to me in a strong way and He tells me to share it on this blog... I choose to be obedient because I can only assume that there is someone out there that needs to hear these words as well.  I love how God gives us nuggets of Truth, not just for us to consume it all ourselves but to share it with others.  That is living the Kingdom life.  It's not just about us.

It's 4am and I am sitting on my couch staring out the large picture window in my living room and I can literally hear a hoot owl outside.  Yes, really.  At first I thought it was a pitiful dog.  But it's not.   It's almost picture perfect besides the fact that am I up at the crack of dawn and this early morning thing is totally not my idea of fun.  But after laying in bed for an hour with non-stop kicking in my belly and contractions, I could no longer lay still.

Don't worry.  I may or may not be in labor.  It's only my 4th child so surely I am not expected to know when my body is in labor, right?  I mean I have only had contractions since 32 weeks and I may have only texted my friend Ashley who is on stand by 3-4 times swearing that it was "go time."

I find it pretty funny myself.  I guess the excitement and the readiness overtake me and all of a sudden a few consistent contractions MUST mean that its time to pack the car, clean the house and hype up 3 very small children for no reason at all.  Oh, the memories.  Yesterday, Emma Jane said that if Porter was still in my belly at her birthday, could I still go down the water slides?  Her birthday is in APRIL people... poor child is as ready as I am for this little babe to come out.

And now, I am out of words to write.  I thought under the light of the moon and the singing from the owl that it would be a writer's paradise and that words would start flowing.  But all I can think about is breakfast and how it should be served no matter what time you wake up.  Which is why I think God gave me a family... otherwise I may be a Marriot traveler just so that I can wake up to the complimentary breakfast and coffee.

If you don't know me by now here is one thing you can learn... I hate to cook.  Period.

SO ON TO THE NURSERY.

I wanted to wait and show you once the final touches were in place and when every picture was hung nicely on the wall... but as I have realized with this whole house transformation, that "our thing" is always a process.  And money doesn't grow on trees.  So if I waited until my idea of "perfection" you would probably see the nursery reveal when baby #4 is two years old.

So here you go...

BEFORE.
When just one crazy baby slept in this room.