Psalm 126

Dearest family and friends,

In church this morning we sang the song, Psalm 126 (by Bifrost Arts Music). It’s a song that holds a lot of emotion for me. The first time I sung it in church was in the midst of a lot uncertainty following our miscarriage and months of infertility. The months that followed that Sunday I listened to this song almost every morning. It was a way to start my day by saying, I would choose to see God’s kingdom here on earth. I would choose to love and honor children in the midst of much heartache. And I would choose to pray when it seemed impossible. Pray for God to give me eyes and hands to sow for the sake of His kingdom.

Our mouths they were filled, filled with laughter
Our tongues they were loosed, loosed with joy
Restore us, O Lord
Restore us, O Lord
Although we are weeping
Lord, help us keep sowing
The seeds of Your Kingdom
For the day You will reap them
Your sheaves we will carry
Lord, please do not tarry
All those who sow weeping
Will go out with songs of joy
The nations will say, “He has done great things!”
The nations will sing songs of joy
Restore us, O Lord
Restore us, O Lord

So then we sang it this morning in church. I thought that getting pregnant would take away the pain of infertility and our miscarriage, but being pregnant has not taken away that pain. Every facet of being pregnant is beautiful to me. Oh how I’ve longed for this belly bump — I think it’s the most amazing thing in the world. And oh how I’ve longed for Sam to talk to my belly and read to our baby, and contemplate the first song he should sing to the baby once it’s ears were developed. It’s truly a gift. A gift that has brought with it so many other anxieties and fears. My levels that I’m receiving shots for keep going up and down drastically and more medical intervention is needed at times, but the Lord is calling me to rest and give thanks for everyday I have the privilege to carry this baby. And oh do I do that with an overflowing cup.

So as we sang this song again this morning and I rubbed my growing belly thinking about how our story has changed — a flood of emotion came over me again. This time last year we were overwhelmed with testing and “why nots” and the complexity of getting pregnant for us. And this month, we mourned over not giving birth to our first baby (which would have been the first week of November), never meeting him or her and praised God for holding our son or daughter in His hands. And then in the moment this morning, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness. That through the weeping He heard us and has given us a beautiful gift of this child. Oh how God’s kindness has been written in our stories.

I need to come to a point of understanding that our infertility will always be painful. And we will always mourn not knowing our first baby. But oh how we can give abundant thanks unto the Lord that hears us in our weeping, and gives us the strength to sow for the sake of His Kingdom. And oh how my heart bursts with joy for the life inside of me. Oh how I’ve longed for this day. To sing Psalm 126 with a tongue loosed with joy -- as a song of great thanks and anticipation for Christ to return and make all things new.

Much love,
Katelyn (& Sam)

17 week bump! I'm currently 18wks 2days!

Rejoice with us!!!!!

Over the past 15 months I’ve begun to journal my prayers. I’ve found myself humbled by God’s kindness and at times filled with much hurt by {what feels like} unanswered prayers. I’ve felt lonely and afraid and fearful and empty. Time and time again as I go back through my prayer journal I see His words, His hand. For what I have learned is that we are never alone, even in our darkness moments. God sees us. He hears us. And there is no escaping, as hard as we try, a love like His. Here are several of the verses that have reappeared as I look through my journal. It amazed me as I compiled them that God has been very near, when I have felt very far.

Psalm 3:4 I cried to the Lord with my voice, and He heard me out of His holy hill.

Psalm 34:4 I sought the Lord, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.

Psalm 50:15 And call upon Me in the day of trouble: I will deliver you, and you shall glorify Me.

Psalm 55:15 As for me, I will call upon God; and the Lord shall save me. Evening and morning, and at noon, will I pray, and cry aloud: and He shall hear my voice.

Psalm 66:20 Blessed be God, who has not turned away my prayer, nor His mercy from me.

Psalm 86:7 In the day of my trouble I will call upon You: for You will answer me.

Psalm 107:6 Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and He delivered them out of their distresses.

Psalm 69 I am exhausted for crying for help; my throat is parched. My eyes are swollen from weeping, waiting for my God to help me. Answer my prayers oh Lord, for your unfailing love is wonderful.

Isaiah 30:19 He will be very gracious to you at the voice of your cry; when He shall hear it, He will answer you.

Isaiah 65:24 And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear.

Mat 7:7,8 Ask and it shall be given you; seek and you shall find; knock and it shall be opened to you: For everyone that asks receives; and he that seeks finds; and to him that knocks it shall be opened.

Mat 21:22 And all things, whatsoever you shall ask in prayer, believing, you shall receive.

2Heb 11:6 But without faith it is impossible to please God: for he that comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.

1Jn 5:14,15 And this is the confidence that we have in Him, that, if we ask any thing according to His will, He hears us: And if we know that He hear us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we desired of Him.


Friends and family,

We have coveted every single prayer for us as we have shared our story. Thank you for instilling hopefulness in our hearts when we felt fearful, thank you for encouraging us to seek first the Kingdom, thank you for crying with us and being angry with us, and allowing us room to grieve and process the infertility and our miscarriage. You have been the hands and feet of Christ to us.

So it is through many tears that I type that God has heard our cries and has graciously answered our prayers for a child! He didn’t have to give us this gift for us to know His goodness, but we are so, so glad He did. This pregnancy has not been perfect (in fact, one of the times I have most felt the effects of spiritual warfare), but everyday that I continue to carry this longed for baby, I give thanks to our great King. What a privilege! What complete joy here on earth.

So, rejoice with us! And please continue to pray for us. Specifically for shots that I am receiving to help sustain the pregnancy - we pray I can and will carry this baby full term and that he/she continues to develop well inside of me! We surrender this child to God, knowing that He is near. I’ve attached our baby’s ultrasound. Oh what glory here on earth to hear his/her heartbeat for the first time. Sam swears he/she looks like him :)

With much love and grateful hearts,
Katelyn & Sam 


P.S. I have so missed my time on Facebook. Communication has become very hard with dear friends, especially in Ukraine and Czech (!!) and I am ready to be back with the Facebook world. The hiatus I must say, was really good for my heart :)

God is big.

Today Sam and I celebrate 4 years of marriage! What a privilege it has been to be his wife.

This day last year, we were driving down Hwy 1 from Napa, California to San Francisco. We rounded a corner and laid eyes on the magnificent Pacific. Instantaneously, I was brought to tears.

Rewind. Earlier on that 3rd anniversary morning, we were reminded that it was yet another month that we were not pregnant {in other words, my period came}. Frustrated and sad, we got in the car to drive with the windows down on a perfect 75 degree day. Sam in his quiet state, me in my weepy state. Those hours in the car would be some that are forever engrained in my mind as a gift. Hours of being vulnerable, sharing in pain, dreaming of the large family we hope to have someday. Reminiscing about funny stories in those first years of marriage {like accidentally shaving all of Sam’s hair off!}. Belly laughing and loud singing. It was a car ride to remember-- and so disconnected from city life. So good for our souls.

And then we rounded the corner and laid eyes on the magnificent Pacific. Instantaneously, I was brought to tears. The next moments are vivid in my mind. We parked and walked. I stuck my feet in the sand and looked out into a massive body of water {neat that Sam got a picture}. Waves crashing loudly. Wind blowing. Gigantic rocks obstructing the water. It was magnificent. And then I found the words to accompany the constant stream of tears {which seemed strange over seeing a body of water?}...

God is big.

Would you believe that it took those moments breathing in the largest body of water in the world for it to hit me? For God to create the jaw-dropping, tear-causing, gigantic aquatic-life filled ocean, he must be big enough to reign over our infertility. He must be big enough to carry our burdened hearts.

So that’s where I am this anniversary. Reminded of God's provision and the moment my heart accepted that God is bigger than my fear. I am thanking God for reigning over our marriage. These past four years have taught us that God’s grace alone sustains us. Again and again we will {always} fall short of the glory of God. And again and again, He calls us His beloved. I've been and I will forever fall short of the wife that Sam deserves, but again and again, he will call me his beloved. We never imagined it would be a year of the continuous struggle with infertility. We never imagined that we would have a baby resting in Jesus’ arms. We never imagined that Sam would be asked to go on staff at a church that is our family. We never imagined the generosity that has come from God’s people. God is good. His grace sustains us.

And friends, our God is big.

With thankful hearts.
Katelyn (& Sam) 

Waiting.

Waiting. We wait for a lot of things. I find myself frustrated often for waiting. At the line in the grocery store. On this computer to open the internet. A friend to text back. Or on a  larger scale, we wait for what’s next. And in those times of waiting I am all consumed with the feeling of the moment -- whether it’s frustration, anger, anxiousness, selfish pity, etc.

Lately, mundane times of waiting have consciously seemed so trivial. Now that we have shared our story, friends and family are checking in often. Are we pregnant again? No. We are still waiting. Every month since we miscarried we have been reminded that we are not in control. Every month for the past 1.5 years that we have struggled with infertility, we have been reminded that we are not in control. Because if you’ve ever struggled with any of this, you are familiar with trying everything YOU can possibly do to get pregnant. Bottom line — God creates life.

This waiting time has filled us with all consuming fear. I’ve had people say, “enjoy this time of waiting — children will turn your world upside down” {people say dumb things}. If you’ve ever been in this place of longing and waiting you understand that it is hard and at times nearly impossible to enjoy. Before Sam and I go on a date {recently we went to the Art Museum} — I literally have to mentally and emotionally {and prayerfully} prepare myself — to allow my heart to enjoy. When we go out and are surrounded by strollers, and diaper bags, and tiny toes, it is so easy for me to feel all consumed with what is missing from our story. The emptiness barricades being able to enjoy. What I need to repent of is how full my life is — my cup overflows. This is how waiting in suffering steals your joy. It takes what should make your heart joyful and grateful and covers it. This is how our time of waiting has hardened my heart towards a God that I know loves me deeply and has already given me a multitude of good gifts. Just a few days ago, Sam grabbed my face and out of his own fear said, “you are letting Satan steal your joy. I’m fearful that you are hopeless in our waiting.” He nailed it — Satan is stupid and yes, I feel hopeless in our waiting.

One thing that has been obvious as a source of hurtfulness during this waiting time is Facebook {I know, silly}. It’s a place that fuels my anxiety and hopelessness and consumes my heart with coveting. Don’t take that personally. I am always thankful for new life — always. I’ve been prayerful and grateful that God has allowed my heart to continue loving His littlest children even when my heart is hurting. But Facebook is like any social media plug— it allows us to complain, to rejoice, to share in exciting news, to share in suffering. It’s used as a place to share our lives. Unfortunately, it is also a place that allows me to become consumed with jealously, coveting, and bitterness. So for now, until my heart is in a better place, I am detoxing from Facebook. I keep in contact with a lot of friends in different parts of the world via Facebook, so I hope to stay in touch via email {kate.haist@gmail.com}. I will try to keep the blog updated as well.

A quick life update — our “new normal” {living in the waiting period} is also filled with busyness. Sam graduated seminary {praise the lord!} and we are now raising support for him to go on staff with our church, South City Church {you can watch a short video here — http://vimeo.com/97458020}. We’ve reached almost 60% of our goal — God is good. I have been directing summer camps at school and will continue nannying this summer. We are looking forward to a week off in July for the annual Haist Family Reunion and some time at the lake. Hopefully some good time to be away and rest.

With grateful hearts for your prayers and the way you have loved on us the past 4 months — thank you.

Much love,
Katelyn & Sam

Revelation 21.

This past Sunday I had the privilege of hearing my husband preach at Beauvais Manor {a nursing home in the city}. What a humbling and life-giving experience. I couldn’t help myself from getting teary as I heard this man I love dearly preaching on Revelation 21—talking about the day when all of our suffering will be no more in the midst of his own internal heartache. Everyone in the room could relate to the pain that comes with life in our broken world. It was a beautiful and convicting sermon.

“And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21: 3-4

After the service, a sweet woman asked us if we had children. Sam instantly responded “no”, as we have become so accustomed to in the past {how many times do you hear that question 3.5yrs into marriage?}. I became teary {surprise!} and answered with, “we have one baby in Heaven”. The elderly woman grabbed my arm and pulled me near. She prayed. And prayed. And continued to pray over me as she held me close. Then she told me she has nine earthly children and eight Heavenly babies. Here is this woman, fully aware that she is coming near to meeting her Savior, weeping over me in the pain she holds so close to her heart. Weeping because she understands suffering. She said at the end of her prayer, “I am anticipating with the greatest joy getting to hold those eight heavenly babies soon; it’s getting me through all these earthly aches, pains and disappointments. Someday you will take hope in this, my dear child.”

Sam and I were able to talk when we got home about our struggle with what is appropriate to say when people ask us those questions now—“do you have children?;” “When do you want to start a family?” We do have a child. We already started our family. I guess we risk people feeling awkward. I guess we risk people feeling bad for us or feeling uncomfortable around us. I guess we take a good risk in allowing people to share their story with us, and learning from others, as they remind us of the gospel. This is all very confusing to me, and on top of that, it’s utterly painful. I welcome your insight, dear readers. Maybe those questions or the rawness of our miscarriage will subside after our first earthly child is born?

Other then the obvious, we are doing okay. We are overwhelmed and feeling exhausted—and counting down the days until this phase of seminary-life will be over. For some reason, it feels like May 16th will bring some much needed relief. The past four years have been good in so many ways—we have experienced life as a newly married couple! We bought a car! We’ve met amazing people who will forever be dear friends! We came to love living in a city—after 22 years of living in the suburbs {it took some adjusting}! Sam has gained great knowledge that he will forever be grateful for! We can say with 100% confidence that the last four years of seminary in St. Louis is exactly where we needed to be. God has used this time in many ways to shape us. Now its time to move on—we are ready! 28 days and counting :)

Thank you for loving us so well.

Love,
Katelyn & Sam

Grateful.

Dear family and friends,

I won’t be able to get through this blog without a constant stream of tears down my face, with immense gratitude to you. We have experienced Christ’s love like never before these past four weeks following our miscarriage. Thank you for pouring into our hurting hearts through calls, texts, emails, flowers, meals, care packages, and so much more. We are eternally thankful for you giving us a slice of the Kingdom to come here on earth - through your outpouring of care.

The past four weeks have brought a multitude of emotions, as we’re learning how to mourn the loss of a child. And in the same breath, feeling overwhelmingly selfish for wanting to hold our baby here on earth, when he/she is resting in their Father’s arms in perfection.

I’ve had some time to think about this hurt that is so far from anything I have ever experienced. In this circle I live in, I am surrounded by women that care about child birth, their bodies/holistically eating, and naturally curing ailments. I’m so intrigued by their wisdom and research. I’m appreciative of them presenting options so women are educated. And I’m eager to try new things through their experiences. At the same time, these past four weeks have reminded me that the fall is real. Because Adam and Eve sinned, we are born sinners. The fall has made us imperfect and flawed. Our bodies, as women (and men), do not function the way they were intended to at the time of Creation.

Every man and woman should be able to create life, a woman’s body should carry a baby full term, and a woman’s body should birth a baby without doctor intervention or medicine. Yet, the fall happened. The fall is real. The fall has turned God’s perfect plan for our bodies into pure devastation. There are men and women that can’t create life, and that pain is devastating. There are women that have to have surgical procedures to sew their cervix shut so that they can carry life - their bodies literally can not birth, nor carry, a child the way it was intended. That pain is damaging. Babies die. In the womb, out of the womb, far before their time. God does not delight in that. I’m disgusted by the effect of the fall. Its heartbreaking. Its devastating. Its damaging. There really are no words. And it is so disheartening that it can’t be stopped - the fall is real and affects every person here on earth. So now what? is the question I keep asking myself. These past four weeks, I’ve had to remind myself daily of the cross. That our God sent his beloved son to the cross. Jesus suffered unimaginable pain as he was nailed. Nailed. So disturbing. God suffered as he watched his beloved child dying a painful and sickening death. Our Lord understands suffering. He is hurt by our suffering. He mourns with us. He feels with us. He sees us. He weeps with us (John 11:35).

The hope I gain from understanding the cross is that God does not forsake this broken world. Instead, he promises to return to us and make all things perfect again for those that love him. In the meantime, our earthly bodies will continue to fail us, and all the brokenness of the world will enter into each of our stories in some way. We can’t escape it. But we can look to the cross, and be reminded that we have a God that experienced real suffering like us. A God that pursues us, even when we are sinful, imperfect human beings that physically and emotionally can’t worship in unmeasurable pain. Oh how undeserving am I of this Father.

As women, I would encourage us to be more mindful of {unintentionally} shaming each other. Every women has the right to be educated and to have women speaking into her life. However, the fall is real. When we feel strongly about women’s choices regarding methods of childbirth, let’s remind each other that some women’s bodies cannot physically do what God intended their bodies to do. At the beginning of Creation I completely agree, God created our bodies to carry our precious children full-term and birth them without any intervention! Sometimes our words can be shaming, even when we don’t see how. I am guilty of that as well. We should be able to talk about hard things—miscarriage, or other health issues regarding pregnancy. It shouldn’t be a shaming experience like so many women have known as a part of their story. Let’s share our hearts—the physical and emotional pain—so that we can mourn with each other in helpful ways. This is so very hard to do, and the fall encompasses so much more then just this {I’ve just been much more sensitive to this lately}. My heart aches when I see women being hurt by the shame they feel from other women for something that is out of our control.

I’ve been weepy over these verses from Come Thou Fount:
“Prone to wander, Lord I feel it.
Prone to leave the God I love.”

In the midst of suffering, I long to not leave the God I love. But some days, I feel like it - when it is hard to see His goodness in the midst of suffering. That makes me even more thankful for His promise to heal the brokenness that is unbearable to live in. Until then, I will rest in the cross. I will remind myself that I am a beloved daughter of the King. And that He sees me in my suffering, and does not leave.  

With much love and gratitude,
Katelyn (and Sam)

Lord, come quickly.

Dear family and friends,

We are in need of your prayers.

This past year, Sam and I have suffered through the pain of infertility. The unknowns of why we couldn’t conceive. Why we couldn’t bring life into the world. Life is truly a miracle. Nothing about a God-given child is an accident—whether or not it was in your plan for it happen. We have struggled this past year with this pain. With suffering. With anger and with longing. With asking for help and prayer (which does not come easy for us).

And then came this past Monday. After 8 pregnancy tests, we started to actually believe our long-awaited gift was here - a child. We called the doctor almost immediately. Her hastiness and urgency for us to come see her made us immediately uneasy. I had been spotting for days, and she was concerned, yet her tone was hopeful and excited for us. We went in Tuesday morning. We heard the words, “cautiously optimistic”, “miscarriage”, “due date, November 7th”. Our hearts were conflicted. Something didn’t “feel right” to me, and we prayed more diligently then we ever have before, for God’s hand to protect us. All 3 of us.

Wednesday we told our families. They rejoiced. They were joyful and hopeful. And we had a renewed sense of giving thanks and rejoicing with them. We had become pregnant. We would always be mom and dad to this child. No matter the outcome. This 5-week-old, long-awaited child was already so treasured.

Thursday morning we went in for more blood work. If my HCG levels increased, we had a living baby. If my levels decreased, we had lost him/her. We felt so uneasy. We lived in the tension. We lived with the feelings of not knowing to rejoice or grieve. My heart was beating in my ears in that waiting room, and the feeling of something being wrong continued to intensify. I went on to conferences that day and felt peace. We got the call Thursday evening at 5:35pm. We had lost the baby.

We cry out to our Father to rid us of suffering in this broken world. We want to shout from the rooftops that we are indeed thankful for a God that gives life. We want to share our hearts so that you will bear our burden with us, as we are called as Christians to do. We don’t know the “appropriate” way to grieve. But we know our hearts can’t handle this alone. So we ask you to grieve with us, to pray for us constantly, and to cherish the life we created, with us.

Forever will we live with the pain of losing our first child. Forever will we be mom and dad, and forever will we love that baby with a love that knows no bounds. We look forward to the day we will meet him/her in Heaven. Our arms ache for that day to come.

Lord, come quickly.

With grieving hearts,
Sam and Katelyn

Great is Thy faithfulness.

Dearest family and friends,

On November 7, 2010 we blogged;

"Upon coming to this decision (to join the PCA), we starting hunting for churches as soon as we moved to St. Louis. It only took our second Sunday here to find our home. Here's a story...

One of Katelyn's "criteria" for a church was that it be big enough that people wouldn't notice we were new, if we were out of town, or if we walked in late on any given Sunday. Well, when we visited South City Church (our new church) within 30 seconds of finding our seats Vivian, a wonderful 92 year-old lady, gave us a warm welcome: "I didn't recognize the back of your heads! Are you new?" All to say, we walked out knowing that this was our new church family.

Since then, we have officially become members, joined a community group, and had a blast getting involved. Katelyn is now a nursery coordinator and I've been playing drums every other Sunday. We couldn't feel more at home with our new church family. It is a joy and blessing to be here." 

Since that day four years ago, our church has undergone many, many transitions. From a new building to staffing changes, to doubling in membership size. It has been a blessing and a challenge to be a part of it, and we've been stretched in wonderful ways. We couldn't feel more at home. 

Four years ago, we began praying that this time in seminary would be fruitful and that we would leave feeling energized for ministry.  We also began to pray that somehow we would be able to make St. Louis our home--not just during our four years while Sam was in school. What that would look like? We had no idea. Often (very often), you hear the seminarian circle ask, "what would your dream job be right out of seminary?" Honestly, our "dream" has been to stay here. This is a city we have come to love--a city that has broken us out of our comfort zones and has stolen our hearts! We hoped, we prayed, and we prayed some more, that after seminary God would provide some outlet of ministry experience for Sam that would allow him to be shepherded, encouraged, stretched, and keep us here in the city. We would have never dreamed that God's provision would not only keep us in St. Louis for at least 2 more years, but would provide Sam with ministry experience within our church family.

Just because I think he's cute -- I thought I'd include a pic :)

Today it was announced to our beloved church family that Sam will be coming on staff this summer as part of a new apprenticeship program (!!!!!!). God hears our prayers. We are so excited to see what the next few years hold at South City Church. We will be raising full support in order for Sam to stay on staff, and appreciate any and all prayers in the process! We know God will provide--He has overwhelmed us with his provision during these past four years.

We are so blessed and we couldn't feel more at home.

With thankful hearts,
Sam & Katelyn

 “Great is Thy faithfulness!” 

“Great is Thy faithfulness!“
  Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—
    “Great is Thy faithfulness,” Lord, unto me!

Winter 2014

Hello family and friends,

We hope the new year is treating you well. We had four wonderful Christmas celebrations in five days and rang in the new year with Chinese food and an early bedtime. We're old at heart. The year is off to a busy, snow-filled start.  Never would you ever hear me say I'm ready for the summer that is St. Louis, but this winter is rough! I'm enjoying my third snow day of 2014 today! Since there has been a lull in our blogging, I'll update through a few pictures - because who doesn't love pictures ...

Our new favorite way to spend our snow days is by playing Rummy. Ethel is super helpful when it comes to playing cards.

One highlight of January was my bestie coming to visit! Kelsey spent a weekend with us (unfortunately Sam had to work), catching up on life, giving Ethel lots of belly rubs and eating good food. I am so excited that we are finally in the same time zone and driving distance from each other now. We are looking forward to visiting Kelsey, Tim and Toby in Milwaukee soon!

 

We had more visitors this month - mom and dad! Yay! Sam went out of town for a four day conference in Grand Rapids and my parents came down to visit last weekend. My dad had work to do in St. Louis, so my mom and I had some quality mother-daughter time. My dad joined us Friday night for a delicious dinner at Dewey's pizza, and we enjoyed a yummy breakfast at Southwest Diner Saturday before they headed out.

Picture taken on a rare 60 degree day this winter (I know, bizarre). Sam is in his last semester of seminary! I would like to say, where did the past 3.5 years go? But although it feels surreal that our time in seminary is coming to an end, we feel very ready. Proud of my hubby. He's in full swing of classes, church internship, deacon duties, leading our community group and volunteer work with the youth. Never a dull moment around here!

And in the same week as our 60 degree day, we also had a 15 degree day! Here is my sweet class and I during our hike over to Tower Grove Park. We lasted about 15 minutes before freezing our tails off! We enjoyed seeing a camouflaged bird in her nest and comparing trees in fall and winter.

To end on a cute note -- look at that snuggly dog.

Until next time - much love from us, 
Katelyn and Sam