victory in Jesus | And 2 Makes Crazy

Before I knew it—I clicked on this blog today (my blog—this one you are reading) and realized that I started this And 2 Makes Crazy blogging journey basically two years ago this month! Wee! What fun.

And it all began with these first two posts and pictures (click on the highlighted for the post):

And My Husband Made Me Cry

My Husband Had a Combover, and I Almost Didn’t Date Him

So, I decided to see what were the three most viewed photos and posts from the three calendar years of my blogging.

Confusing anyone?! (I started the Blog August 2013…So to date with 3 calendar years: August 2013, 2014, 2015).

Here you go! It was a fun stroll down memory lane for me.

Oh—side note—my hubby and I just celebrated (a month early) our 15th anniversary. YEA FOR US! If you have followed And 2 Makes Crazy for any period of time, you will know this is a victory. Because if there is anything that can be said about this blog—it’s that we are honest. Our marriage from 2012 and after was a real struggle for me. A lot went into it—and a lot of God’s grace got us through it.

So, happy 15 to us—Brooke and Richard. I honestly can say that I am SO happy we plowed through the down days and have made it to the other side of our rainbow. I pray, if you are struggling, that you will keep your head down and your back strong and allow God to pull you through, too!

Anyhow—Before I get to the top 3 photos; blogs read; and clicks outside of And 2 Makes crazy, I want to remind you that you can LIKE And 2 Makes Crazy on Facebook (Yea!) or simply my personal Facebook page and also Follow Me on Instagram, Pinterest, YouTube, and Twitter! I am not a frequent Tweeter, Pinterest-er, YouTuber, or Instagramer—but I’d love to have you along for the journey anyway!

Also, if you want to walk down memory’s lane for last year’s anniversary surprise my husband had for me, I invite you to read here: Happy Anniversary Hot Stuff

And here:The Takeoff. Getting out of your comfort zone (and the video to boot!)

Okay—2 years of And 2 Makes Crazy blogging fun!

Most viewed photos for the three Augusts (2013, 14, 15):

1. When we were merely a family of 4

2. The flying contraption

3. The nursing momma

Most read blog posts:

Most outside of And 2 Makes Crazy clicks:

Once again—Happy double anniversary!

One for the blog—that I have immensely enjoyed writing over the last two years (even though the last year was more sporadic).

Two for 15 years of being married to the man that continues to live in my dreams, Richie!

I wish you all a great end-of-August, and always a great abundance of God’s grace and mercy in your lives as well.

xo b

(Here’s a flashback of me and the Mr. My better half of Crazy)

She was 15 and made a choice. She hopped in the car of the handsome man and they took off. They went to a county that permitted their love. And they got hitched.

Yep, that’s how the legacy of my family was started. My grandma, Marguerite Florence, married her handsome miner, Charles Emerson. And although they were but babies, they married.

And they made it. 54 years, in fact, until he passed away—a great man with a great legacy and so many years of joy and laughter.

But life was not always as easy for Tootsie as that hop in the car or the signature on those papers.

My grandma watched her first beautiful baby boy born. She saw him grow. She loved him and his smile and laughter and beauty. And then one day he was gone.

And their hearts were broken.

Then came along their second baby…sick. And death claimed him but not before he also claimed their hearts. She calls him Baby Boy.

Two. Gone. Sorrow was a cloud that hung over their hearts, lives, home.

And then they welcomed a beautiful baby with big blue eyes…And he thrived.

A daughter followed, my mother.

Then the War. The War that men went off to fight, leaving behind the strongest generation of women. Women that had to care for the house, work the fields, get the jobs, and raise the children.

And, ironically, the War that was the battle for the great continent that my husband and I now reside upon. If my grandpa was alive, I wonder how he would reminisce about that fact? That he fought for the people and the land where we now live?

He returned safely and worked his remaining days as a copper miner in Bisbee, Arizona. Until 1991 when God called him home.

Now Tootsie, the toughest woman I know has a new title to her name…Widow. The man that she met, married, and loved since she was 1 day 15…gone. But her spirit remained strong.

Fast forward to 2006.

We had a little girl, and we named her Adelyne Marguerite after my amazing grandma. And boy, my daughter genetically inherited her great-grandma’s spicy spirit. And we’re thankful. In fact, there are times when we call Adelyne “Little Toots”!

Zoom again…It’s 2010.

We’re in Poland, and we lost our baby in pregnancy. And my mom told me my grandma just cried and cried upon hearing that news. If anyone understood the loss of your very own heartbeat, it is my grandma. At this point in her life, she has now buried 3 of her 4 children-her only living son has passed away too.

Many people said really nice things—but she knew the hollowness of losing your flesh and blood. And it was something, a very sad something, that has bonded us beyond the fact that our daughter was given her name.

And once again, we move forward to 2012.

Our son. He entered death and yet was given back to us. He was 2 months old. And our lives felt as if dump trucks had been thrown on top of us.

But he lived…God graciously gave him back to us. We do not know why—but we will never stop thanking him for this gift of Maxwell’s life.

And, once again, my grandma cried. Not because we lost Maxwell, but because he lived.

My daughter may have been named after my grandma, but it’s my son whose spirit fights on like my grandma—whose spirit that looks at adversity and difficulty in the eyes and says, “I’m going to walk on…I will persevere.”

Grandma Tootsie and Maxwell Loren—they know death. They know difficulty. And yet they know victory in Jesus. And they smile.

Today, my son walks up to her. Their unspoken bond is great. And he, Maxwell, stares. And then he smiles.

He smiles as if to say, “Thank you.”

“Thank you for being strong. For carrying on.”

“I am not a replacement of your life and your losses. I am a piece. A piece of your life because although sorrow was at times overwhelming, you held on. And joy has come in the morning.”

And she smiles at him.

And then he laughs.

And she laughs.

And the bond they share, the bond between a 91-year-old widower and a 15-month-old baby boy, is great.

Unspoken—unless smiles and laughter count as words.