I didn’t make any real “resolutions” for 2011, since I’m fairly certain that I was mostly just focused on surviving the second half of my pregnancy and the first 8 months of Evie’s life. It was an adventure, even without any specific resolutions.

Now that we’re in 2012, I feel that it’s time for me to get back to goals. I’ve accomplished a lot of what I had hoped for in my life, but not everything. In my high school yearbook (10 years ago…), I’m pretty sure I said I wanted to have a book published by now. While that hasn’t happened, I do think that’s mostly because I’m not a writer by profession like I thought I would be. That said, I still have it as a goal for “someday.” My “someday” list is getting long, but I’m okay with it. I may be turning 30 this year, but I am not, by any stretch of the imagination, done with “the best years of my life.”

So, here are my goals for 2012:

• Launch our new business website
  We first announced it last year, and then got caught up in the baby stuff. We’re plugging away in our “spare” time to get it done. I’m excited to get it launched!
• Take a business class
  I’ve been running a business for over 5 years now; I think it’s time to see what I can do better.
• Teach Evie to say or sign the names of all immediate family members
  Hearing my nephew say my name is such a blessing to me! I want to hear Evie say Momma, Daddy, Grandma, Grandpa, Devon, Seth, Kirsten, Mom-Mom, Poppy, Kelley, Matt, Lincoln, and Nina (Caryn) by next Christmas… Doable? She’ll be 20 months old, so I hope so!
• Go snowboarding with Joel at least once
  Joel and I got each other snowboarding gear for Christmas in 2010, but I was pregnant last winter, so we couldn’t go. Now, I’m very unmotivated to relearn… But I love Joel, and I want to have stuff to do together, so snowboarding it is!
• Finish a writing project
  I have so many half-finished projects… and only a few finished ones. This is the year to have a project come to conclusion. I had been working pretty steadily on a novel in 2010, but then my compy crashed, I lost 2 hours of work, and I lost motivation to rewrite. Time to get back into it!
• Bike the 35- or 60-mile Bike:MS Cook Forest River Ride in September
  I’m giving myself both options for the River Ride, since I’ll have to see how bike riding goes with Evie. If she likes the bike trailer, I’ll aim for the 60-miler. If she hates it, I’ll be lucky to get to do the 35.
• Raise $5,000 toward our adoption fund
  As for the adoption fund, I know it’s ambitious to try to raise $5k, but it’s only a little over $450/month (since January is almost over and I haven’t raised anything yet). That’s going to be the hardest one, I think. It is going to take some creative thinking and the support of those around us, but I think we can do it. I feel called to adopt, so I know that it will happen if it’s the Lord’s will.

So, we’ll see how this goes…

My sister, Caryn, is a missionary in Papua New Guinea. This is what she calls, “My Wicked Cool Prescription Refill Story.”

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As you know, I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis about five years ago. When I came to PNG, I brought a one-year supply of my medication with me, intending to bring another year’s worth when I came back to the US this summer for a short visit. After I realized that I wouldn’t have the money for a trip home, I knew that I would have to find another way to get the meds. So, for the past three months, I’ve been attempting to find a way to get a one-year supply of my MS meds into Papua New Guinea. What a nightmare!!! Since the medication comes in pre-filled syringes that have to be refrigerated, I knew it would be complicated, but I had NO IDEA of the various details involved with transporting this much medication internationally.

First, I tried contacting my insurance company to find out about shipping directly to Ukarumpa, the missionary community where I live. No one there seemed to understand the special circumstances. You can’t just FedEx a box to the jungle and expect it to arrive in two days! Ukarumpa is REMOTE. There is ONE (count it, ONE) unpaved road about 12 meters at its widest point that connects Ukarumpa to a town of any substantial size. In some areas that road is completely washed out by the rain (as in the pavement is just GONE). Sometimes that road is blocked by armed men (with bows and arrows) who won’t let any vehicles pass. Sometimes a tractor trailer jack-knifes on the road, and it’s closed for two or three days while the truck is pulled out. Just forget about the box arriving by ground transportation. And, in any case, boxes shipped to Ukarumpa via FedEx or DHL or UPS would have to go through customs in the capital, Port Moresby, which is NOT connected to Ukarumpa by any roads at all. That means that our aviation department would have to find the package in Port Moresby (imagine a scavenger hunt in which half of the items do not actually exist) and fly the box up to me in Ukarumpa.

So, I asked the aviation department if they could handle this “scavenger hunt” and if they would be able to bring the box of meds to me in Ukarumpa should they be able to actually locate the box at all. They asked what material would be used to keep the box cold in case it was made from hazardous materials. My thought was, “They’re regular ice packs. . . that keep stuff cold. . . for a long time. . . ” But, I emailed the specialty pharmacy that would be filling the prescription to ask about any hazardous materials inside the cold packs. Their reply was something like, “Yes, ma’am, we just use regular ice packs made out of gel.” Apparently, they didn’t have any idea what chemicals were used inside their cold packs either. Without a firm answer, I was forced to put this option on hold.

For a few weeks, I completely gave up the idea of shipping the medication to PNG, let alone Ukarumpa. I didn’t have the money to go back to the US, but I looked for a cheap flight home anyway. I figured that I could just bring the medication back with me the same way that I had carried the medication to PNG last August. But, the cheapest flight I could find would total somewhere around $3000 round trip. After a few weeks of internal struggle, I decided there were better ways to spend my money. (ie. the money people had given in support of my missions work in PNG.)

Then I thought about having the medication shipped to a Wycliffe contact in Australia. I couldn’t afford a flight back to the US, but maybe I could swing a flight down to Australia to pick up the medication. I started looking at flights again, and I emailed some Wycliffe contacts to gather more information. . . until someone mentioned the import tax on that volume of medication into Australia. After a little research, I found out that the import tax would be approximately 10%, or $2000 to $2500 dollars. Plus my co-pay, plus my flight to get to Australia, etc. And so, yet another one of my bright ideas fizzled into nothingness.

While I was pursuing all of these other options, I decided to ask the clinic here in Ukarumpa about getting the medication through an Australian pharmacy. I imagined that they could just bring my prescription up to Ukarumpa with vaccines and medication for other patients. I found out that the clinic staff regularly orders specialty medication through Cairns, Australia, and they could practically guarantee the “cold chain” of my medication. I was thrilled and figured this route would be the easiest until I researched the financial side of things. Just on a whim, I asked my US insurance company about co-pays if I filled the prescription in Australia. I found out that it would be about a $2000 co-pay for a one-year supply. In the world of missionary-frugality (I live on less than $900 a month), that is ASTRONOMICALLY different from the $300 I paid to have a similar prescription filled before I left for PNG. Also, I would have to find a US “benefactor” who would lend me the $20,000-$25,000 to pay for the medication out-of-pocket while I waited for reimbursement from the insurance company.

So much for that brilliant plan.

Meanwhile, the my insurance company and the specialty pharmacy that would fill the prescription were sending me emails saying things like, “Once the medication leaves our office, it is your responsibility if it is lost or ruined on the way. . . ” and “If it gets held up at customs, is confiscated, or becomes lost, you would be responsible.” My favorite one said, “If not refrigerated properly, the medication may not be useful and, again, this would fall on your shoulders.”

Good grief.

So, all of my fantastic schemes had worked out as follows:

• The medication couldn’t be shipped directly to Ukarumpa because of the terrible track record for delivery that FedEx has in PNG and the fact that the cold packs would be completely warm in the 10-14 days it would take for the package to arrive.
• The medication couldn’t be shipped to Port Moresby and brought up to Ukarumpa on one of our missionary flights because I couldn’t figure out what material (hazardous or innocuous) was used in the cold packs.
• I couldn’t afford the $3000 to fly back to the US to pick up the medication myself.
• I couldn’t afford to have the medication shipped to Australia for me to pick up because of the $2000-$2500 import tax.
• I couldn’t afford to have the clinic here in Ukarumpa fill the prescription in Australia because of the $2000 co-pay AND the fact that I would need to find a person to lend me $20,000.

At this point it was the beginning of June. I had been dealing with this stupid prescription refill for about two and a half months, and I was nearly in tears most days because I didn’t know what else to do. I needed the medication by September, and I was no closer to getting it than I had been when I started the process back at the end of March.

One morning I was at school reading YET ANOTHER email stating that one of my big plans wouldn’t work. I gave up. I decided that it wasn’t worth the hassle. I figured that I would just go without the medication for a year. Of course my US neurologist would have a genetically-modified COW if I went off my medication, but what else could I do?!? I even thought gleefully, “If I have to be med-evaced because I have an MS episode and go numb from the waist down, I’ll get to go to Australia, a land of drive-throughs, convenience stores, and shopping malls!!!”

In between classes that same morning, another English teacher at school saw that I was really struggling. She pulled me aside and told me to “spill it.” After listening quietly, she hugged me, and then she prayed for me.

After she walked away, I prayed. It’s not that I hadn’t been praying along the way. I had been praying, “Lord, please help my plans to work out to get this medication here.” But, this time I prayed, “Lord, I can’t do it. You have to work it out because I’m all out of plans.” Complete surrender can make a person feel entirely helpless and even weak. But I also felt free. I didn’t have to DO anything else because I’d already tried EVERYTHING I could think of to DO.

So I waited.

I graded projects. I wrote final exams. I created PowerPoint presentations for Awards Night at school. I emailed my two sisters, told them what was happening, and asked them to pray. I did everything except come up with another way to get my meds into PNG.

A week later my sister Laure responded with a possible idea. Two years ago, she and I had gone on a short missions trip to Haiti with a guy who “just happened” to know another guy who was coming to PNG on a short trip and who “just happened” to be a pharmacist. I emailed the “guy who just happened to be a pharmacist” (G) only to discover that he was actually the Director of Pharmacy Services at [redacted: a prominent] Hospital and would be working with Wycliffe for a few weeks on a construction project about 6 hours away from Ukarumpa. After hearing my request, G immediately agreed to hand-carry my medication into the country.

At first I was a bit nervous about asking G to carry a large quantity of medication prescribed to another person (me) through customs, but my other sister K agreed to make some calls for me. She started by contacting the embassies for Australia, New Zealand, and PNG to find out about customs and import tax requirements.

Here’s how things stand as of today:

At the end of last week, K found out that all G will need to get my medication through customs is a letter from my prescribing physician. Amazingly, I won’t have to pay a single dollar in import tax either!

This afternoon my refill was processed in record time by the specialty pharmacy in the US, so G will have the meds just before his flight to PNG on July 6th! I was also able to share how the Lord worked everything out with the pharmacy representative who I’ve been emailing for the few months.

The one-year prescription refill will only cost me a $300 co-pay, just like it did last August.

Another Wycliffe family will be driving the six hours from G’s work location in PNG to Ukarumpa at the end of July, and they “just happen” to be traveling with a cooler that can be used to keep the medication cold during the drive.

WOOHOO!! Praise the Lord for having His own plans! He works out everything for HIS glory!

I guess I ought to give up on my plans and big ideas a little sooner next time. It might save me from a few sleepless nights and weeks of stress-filled days!

This whole prescription refill mess is Isaiah 55:8-9 in a way that I’ve never experienced it before.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
neither are your ways my ways,” declares the LORD.
“As the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.”
Isaiah 55:8-9
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We’re in this boat again of not knowing how the Lord is going to work. But we’re trying to trust. Caryn’s account at Wycliffe Associates is in the red, and her monthly giving isn’t bringing her account into the black. She has no money for food or supplies for her final 6 months… Can you help? Do you know someone who can?

You can donate online here »

Evangeline is eight months old!

Weight: TBD

Clothes Size: On the verge of growing out of 6-9 Months… so 9-12 Months (or 12m)!

New Skills: “standing” (if I help her up, she can stand, holding onto something else); babbling “da-da-da-da” (new this week, actually)… and sometimes it seems like she makes a “mmmmmm” sound when she wants me, although that could just be her hungry/sad/whiny sound; feeding herself sweet potato “puffs”

When we were in India in 2008, Dr. Sam Thomas told us stories about how he brought some of the kids into the orphanage. One story has stuck with me for all these years.

Dr. Thomas was on a train, and, as it began to cross a trestle, he noticed a woman with several children standing near the door. As their train car approached the middle of the bridge, the woman thrust open the door and frantically, tearfully began to throw her children off the train. In horror, Dr. Thomas rushed toward them, shouting. “No,” he cried, “you don’t have to do that!” He could see desperation in the woman’s eyes. There was one small boy left, and Dr. Thomas put his hands on the child. “I can help you!” he pleaded. The woman did not look back as she let go of her son and jumped from the train.

The truth is that in India this kind of practice is not as uncommon as you would hope. Often, if a family becomes too poor to take care of their children, they will simply find a way to kill them, rather than watch them suffer a long, painful death to starvation. It is a horrifying and gut-wrenching thing to realize the things that desperation can do to troubled people.

In our country, it is rare to see such acts be perpetrated, but, in fact, it is happening every day around us. Women who are scared, overwhelmed, and feel unprepared to care for a child head to their local Planned Parenthood or other crisis pregnancy center where they are, more often than not, counseled and encouraged to abort. It’s not a visible train trestle, for certain. But the child is just as dead.

It is a great tragedy that so few Christians make any effort to step in.

I imagine that if anyone, Christians or not, witnessed a mother tossing her children off a bridge, he or she would definitely make every effort to stop it, to save the children, to help the mother. However, when it comes to the abortion situation, we find ourselves on the sidelines.

I am personally opposed to throwing babies off a train, we say. But I don’t feel that it is really ‘my thing’ to make a desperate woman raise children she doesn’t want.

It disgusts me that someone would toss a child from a train, we say. But why would she listen to me anyway? Her mind is already made up.

Of course, I am pro-life, we say. But I am just not ‘into’ protests and things like that.

Where is your heart?

I don’t like confrontation, we say. What if someone yells at me or spits in my face?

Where are your guts?

This is your wake-up call.
This is your call to action.

Get off your couch, away from your office, out of your house. For one day, take a stand.

Decide for yourself who you want to be, how you want your children to see you. Are you going to be silent and hopeful, praying that someone else will do the job we are all called to do? Or will you stand up, horrified, and cry out against the tragedy before us, “you don’t have to do that!”

“He will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for
one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’” (Matthew 25:45 NIV)

Come to the March for Life!

January 23, 2012 in Washington, DC
Join us »

Evangeline is seven months old!

Weight: 16 lb. 8 oz.

Clothes Size: 6-9 Months

New Skills: Sitting all by herself! “Playing” her little piano (see below), eating solids (mango peach puree, sweet potatoes, and carrots are her favorites so far… I guess she loves orange as much as her daddy does!), experimenting with new consonant sounds (b, d, g, v, and f so far) in her regular babbling. I’m also starting to notice stranger awareness at times. Still no response yet on sign language, but we’re working on being consistent with her so she’ll pick up on it in a few more months. Two teeth have come in (as you can see in the picture), and it seems like she may be working on a few more. Nothing peeking through yet though!

Today, I had to go to my baby niece’s funeral, and I find that I am filled with such sorrow and frustration that, mixed together, feel strongly like anger. I don’t want to be angry that the Lord, in His omniscience and unending love, chose to take Mercy home to be with Him rather than give her the life we expected with us. But at this moment, I am struggling to find anything that makes this day less awful.

I have the verses in front of me that should prove that this day can be one of joy, but instead I find myself dwelling on the hopeless feeling that is hanging over me like a fog … which is actually kind of ironic, since today was an absolutely gorgeous fall day with sun streaming across a cloudless sky.

How is this “supposed” to go? Am I allowed to cry—to show openly and publicly that I am struggling? As with the other deaths I have experienced, I find myself wondering what is appropriate or expected of me emotionally rather than being able to relax and simply feel however I want to feel.

How is someone supposed to react when a baby dies unexpectedly and seemingly for no medical reason at 26 weeks into the pregnancy?

Stillborn.

There. I said it. The horrible word is out there.

It’s not fair.

I know that life isn’t fair, and that’s actually a good thing since we all deserve much worse than what we get. I know that. That knowledge doesn’t make it easier in this moment today to deal with the effects of this broken, fallen world.

It was a tiny white casket, barely larger than a shoebox, on a red pedestal beside a small plaque marked “SHARE No. 98.” No names were on the stone; just a number. It’s not personal, but it’s something. It’s a place to go with flowers and stuffed animals and tears if it comes to that.

It’s not fair.

I try so hard not to dwell on the physical when it comes to death. I am usually okay until I see the box. The box bothers me somehow, makes everything more tangible and real. Instead of being able to keep focusing my mind on things spiritual and heavenly, like my beloved Grandma Rose (Mom-mom) rocking little Mercy in her arms amidst golden walls and puffy clouds, the box brings to mind things like dirt and darkness and bones.

I don’t have a grand conclusion for this one.

I have my baby girl, but my sister doesn’t have hers. It’s not fair.

Mercy Rose
September 17, 2011
You may not have ever taken a breath or opened up your eyes, little one, but I love you just the same.
Aunt Laure misses you, little girl!

For Project:Fracture’s 3rd Annual Falloween Party, Joel and I decided to go as Bonnie & Clyde with our “big bag of money.” Enjoy!

For reference, in case you were curious…

2010 – The Queen of Hearts & Hannibal from the A-Team

2009 – Rosie the Riveter & MacGyver

Evangeline is six months old!

Height: 26.5 in
Weight: 15 lb 10 oz

Clothes Size: 6-9 Months

New Skills: Sitting on her own for a few seconds at a time! Her first tooth is peeking through and will likely break through in the next day or so; she had her very first solid food this afternoon for lunch (organic pear puree), which she had a strong opinion about (see video below). I’ve started teaching her some sign language so she’ll be able to communicate before she can speak. So far, we’re working on “thank you,” “mommy,” “daddy,” “milk,” “eat,” and “all done.” No responses yet, except for big smiles when I say “thank you” to her (I’ve been doing that one since she was 2 months old whenever she holds her own feet up during diaper changes).

Last weekend, our families made the long trek to Pittsburgh to spend time with us as we prepared for Evangeline’s baptism. My parents arrived in the early afternoon on Saturday to help with some of the last-minute clean-up around the house since we were having a cookout and campfire to celebrate that evening. Joel’s parents and Kelley, Matt, and Lincoln arrived in the later afternoon, and Seth and Kirsten joined us later that evening.

While I neglected to take any photos of the actual event (silly me—apparently, I was busy with other things…), I did take a few photos of the cupcakes I made and decorated for the party. I think they turned out pretty cute for an amateur baker!

On Sunday at the 11:15 am service, Evie was baptized by our pastor and friend, Kevin Labby. She “talked” through a lot of the beginning parts, which you’ll see in the video below. This was my favorite “in action” shot of Evie from during the baptism ceremony.

So cute! Ha!

Joel put together a slideshow of photos for the service, which every infant that is baptized in our church gets. I think he did a beautiful job! The song is Masterpiece by Sandi Patty, a favorite of mine from when I was a little girl. I remember my mom singing it to me and my sisters along with our cassette tape.

Evangeline’s Baptism (2011 10 23) from Laure Kline on Vimeo.

Here are the lyrics (courtesy of ap0s7le.com):

Before you had a name or opened up your eyes
Or anyone could recognize your face.
You were being formed so delicate in size
Secluded in God’s safe and hidden place.

And I’m so proud of you
What else is there to say?
Just be the masterpiece He created you to be.

Source

On Sunday afternoon, we headed to Schramm Farms in Irwin, PA, after church with our friends, Sarah and Jeremy, and their three boys. It was a gorgeous day, warm and sunny, but there was still a nice fall crispness to the air. I was excited to get some pumpkin patch pictures of Evangeline, and Sarah is a great photographer, so I knew I could bum some camera time from her.

After watching the boys play in the corn box (like a sandbox, but with dried corn kernels), we grabbed a quick lunch of hotdogs, apple cider, and french fries, and then headed into the pumpkin patch for our photo shoot… and to pick out some pumpkins!

See? I told you Sarah was great!