The lifeless.


Yesterday, New York voted to legalize abortion until a baby is born. As I scrolled screw threw Facebook and Instagram today, I saw one mention of it. ONE. I’m baffled. Why are we not more upset about this? Why is there not outrage? Why are we not crying for these babies? Sick over their deaths? It’s evil, just pure evil.

In what scenario is this acceptable? I don’t understand being for abortion, at any point under any circumstance. I don’t. But at 6 months pregnant? 7,8,9 months pregnant? A baby as young as 22 weeks can survive outside of the womb. I watched my hero and my best friend deliver a baby just under that. He was fully formed, and fit in the size of a hand. We all cried as we looked at him. His tiny hands, itty bitty ears and the tiniest little nose you ever saw. He was perfect and lifeless.

Just a few months before that, we had all been in the hospital holding the sweetest baby boy. He never took a breath on this side, but he was undeniably a person. He weighed just a few pounds less than my Luke did. He had eyebrows and hair covering his head. His body was perfect and whole, and not a thing was wrong, accept his heart had stopped beating. As I held him, I was sure he would start to cry. I think we all were. But we buried him.

What a slap in the face to these women, these families. Who have ached for their arms to be filled, who have longed for children. These women who delivered and held their lifeless babies are now being told it really wasn’t a baby, it didn’t count as a life lost, at all.

In what way is this justified? Honestly? How, at 7, 8, 9 months pregnant is it acceptable to end the life inside of you? After they’ve been squirming around in there? When they could live on their own? When your belly is full? These babies have personalities already. They hear you. Even people who don’t claim Christianity have mercy on babies. How is this justified in anyone’s eyes?

I’m truly sick about it. My heart is just so heavy today. This is a barbaric, evil place that we can so easily celebrate and push for more slaughtering of innocent lives.

The only peace in all of this is the hope we have in Jesus. He holds the babies and the broken mamas. He brings redemption and restoration in the darkest of places. He cares about the aborted and the aborters. What a gift to be known by Him.

Clinging to my babies extra tight. Thankful for life.

xo, e.




Awaiting Baby


I’ve had multiple people ask me today, “When is your due date?” Saying “Thursday,” instead of weeks, months or just a far away date makes it feel so real. Any day now we will be holding our sweet baby girl, bringing her home to her siblings who already adore her, to her room we so thoughtfully prepared for her, to her life. We are excited and nervous and still can’t believe it.

My prayer for this baby is that she is strong and determined, like her daddy; that she is confident in who she is and who’s she is, like her mama. I pray that she realizes how incredibly lucky she is to have parents who love her and have invested their hearts in her since before she was in our arms. I pray she recognizes and takes advantage of the incredible wisdom and example she has surrounding her. I pray she comes to know the Lord early, and that her testimony can be described as “boring.” I pray that people will recognize something different in her heart, her smile, her light, and that it would be the tenderness of the Holy Spirit. I pray she is not changed by ways of this world, but rather that she changes the ways of this world. I pray that as she grows, her relationship with the Lord, with me and C, and with her siblings will flourish.

I am so grateful for the last 39 weeks and 2 days of just the two of us getting to know each other, but I can’t wait to see what happens when she joins us on this side of things.

About two weeks ago, my incredible dad took some time to document this precious season in our lives, and I am just so so grateful for these pictures. It is so special getting to carry my babies, and I don’t ever want to take even on second for granted. Every flutter, every kick, every hiccup is exciting and surreal. I don’t why the Lord picked me and trusted me to carry these babies and be their mama, but  I am so grateful He did. We can’t wait to know you, baby girl.

xo, e.

Sprinkled with love


This weekend my family threw me the cutest party to celebrate the newest baby Crane. It always amazes me the time and effort and attention to detail they spend to love on my little family. I just realized in the last four years my mom has thrown us an engagement party, a bridal shower, a wedding, 3 gender reveal parties, and 3 baby showers! Each one special and thoughtful and perfect.

This party they played on the word “sprinkle” instead of a “shower,” because three babies in three years leaves you with lots of baby stuff, but they still wanted to celebrate our newest baby and love on us. How stinking sweet! I am so grateful for my mom and the rest of my family and the way they love and celebrate each moment with us. I am also can’t believe all the people who come to every single party. I married into the most incredible family who shows up to every single party and loves on us with such intention and thoughtfulness. I have a handful of sweet friends who have showed up since we were in middle school, who are still coming to all our silly parties and excited for each new chapter. We are feeling so spoiled and loved on and as prepared as we can be to add another member to this crazy bunch!

Thank you to everyone who has celebrated with us.

xo, e.





Leia’s Party


I can’t believe it’s already been almost an entire month since we celebrated our sweet Leia Darling’s first birthday. This year has gone by so quickly and has had so much going on, it was so sweet to really just celebrate my girl. My mom baked the cutest, and yummiest cookies, while I tried to perfect all those sinple wreaths. My best friend, Alyssa, made the cupcakes. My sweet dad searched for hours for someone to blow up a ridiculous balloon I bought. My sisters cut out pictures and helped me tape up a million flowers to the big white wall my mom painted. Our friends and family came together to shower Leia with all kinds of baby dolls and headbands and zoo passes and all the precious little girl things. We ate cake and just got to BE. Our whole family felt loved on. It was really special and definitely Leia’s best Birthday yet 😉

Thoughts and prayers.

The news is hard to stomach. It makes me cry and literally sick. It’s heavy. It’s hard. It’s real. And that’s scary. These random acts of terrorism happening in our everyday places seem so personal. You would think this would be a time our country would come together to figure out what to do, but instead quite the opposite happens.

I’m so frustrated by the twisted facts, the blatant lies, the blanket statements, the distractions. The truth is, there is a problem here. A big problem.

I guess where I differ from lots of people is I don’t think this only a gun issue. Even stranger, I don’t think it’s just a mental health issue. I think it is a home issue, a focus on yourself issue, most importantly a god-less issue. Now hear me out. I realize a lot of people will move on from this point or get so heated that they can’t grasp all that I’m saying. But just try to stick with me here for a minute.

Our country is moving at an alarming rate away from all attachment to God. I don’t even think we notice it, because it’s so casual to us. It reminds me of a story in Judges and my reaction when I read it. I was so alarmed that a man offered his daughter as a sacrifice to the Lord. He was so overwhelmed with joy and gratitude that he swore to offer whatever walked out of his door, and there she was. The two spent quite some time mourning, but in the end, he fulfilled his promise. How could he think this was okay? How could he think that killing anything that walked out of his front door would bring glory to the Lord? My mom reminded me he wasn’t trying to be malicious. He genuinely thought he was glorifying God, even though from the outside it seems so obvious that he was off. Because he was so immersed in his own culture, where human sacrifice was regular and normal, he thought it was honorable. It shocked me and reminded me how unknowingly soaked in the culture of this world we really are. We, as Christians, don’t even realize the things we excuse, justify and defend that are so far off. People who do claim God, don’t know anything about what His word says. We stand in gay-pride parades, are pro-choice, live with our significant other long before marriage. We think that having a “normal college experience” includes one-night stands, at least light drug use, and binge drinking. The divorce rate is the same in the church as it is outside of it. We mock people who are “too conservative.” We all have seen the latest TV show, don’t flinch at the use of the f-word, and post as many hateful, disrespectful comments on social media, if not more, than the rest of the world.

God has been removed from our politics, our schools, our homes, our morals. And now that He’s gone from all of these places, we’re wondering why He isn’t showing up. Um hello! We spit on the very things He deems holy. We have moved the priority from our relationship with the Lord, our marriage, our children, our communities, to ourselves. We focus on being happy instead of doing what’s right or responsible. In every single sense. From abandoning families, the lack of discipline, the degrees we get in school, the entitlement we have.

Here’s the reality, since forever the Lord has reminded us to die to ourselves. That means IT ISNT ABOUT US. And yet, more and more our society tells us it is. (Which when society is trying so hard to tell us something it’s probably a pretty good indicator to do the opposite.) We are constantly unsatisfied, constantly looking for the newest upgrade, constantly comparing through tiny glimpses on a screen. All in search for our personal fulfillment, our own happiness. In one instance, we’ve pushed for women to be in the work force, and men to be there longer hours. Which left kids to be distracted and busied by other people, who will never love them like their parents do. There are nannies and daycares and grandparents who fill these children time with reading and games and “social interaction.” We’re taught to believe that it’s necessary, it’s good for the kids. They spend years at school, at after school programs, in dance class, gymnastics, Karate, soccer, football, etc. We pick them up from school, drop them off at practice, pick them up, drive thru somewhere for dinner, go home and give them baths and put them to bed. And repeat that until the weekend where games and parties and screens take over. We expect teachers to teach our children manners, how to behave, how to be nice to others, but of course we do, because we have no time for it. We’re so busy with our own careers, our own hobbies, our own passions we can’t see that we’ve lost how important time is. We’ve lost “family nights,” “game nights,” or even “movie nights” and replaced them with Girls Night Out or “me-time.” Our conversations about sex and drinking and respect and morals and how to be nice and how to respond to the boy who called you fat and what to do when your heart is broken, have been replaced with tv shows and memes. Men not only don’t care if their wives have careers, they demand it. Someone to share the burden, help carry the weight. Which takes away the role of provider and leader that is so innately given to them. Both parents don’t spend enough intimate time with their children, that they don’t even recognize when they’re hurting or upset. The kids say they’re “fine” then lay in their beds and scroll for answers on their iPads. Everyone is exhausted from trying to “be-it-all” and “do-it-all” that distractions replace discussions. Our kids are looking for stability, for truth, for example, and we are too broken to be that for them. They seek answers from the internet, from their peers, from the media. And they stray away to find answers that all point them back to themselves.

We’re all told our emotions should hold so much power over us. We feel hurt. We feel insecure. We feel broken. We feel angry. Lots of us fill it with business, other with affection from whoever will give it to us, some from drugs or drinking. Some of us turn to porn or eating. And yes, a few turn to violence. I guess my point is, yes there is a huge problem here. A giant problem in our country. It’s a home problem. It’s a lack of God problem. It’s a focus-on-myself problem. It’s an emotion-driven problem.

So while you all telling me that there have been enough “thoughts and prayers,” my concern is quite the opposite. There isn’t enough, and definitely not to the right guy. So I will continue to pray for our country. For our families and homes to be as they should. Once balance is restored at home, I truly believe the rest would fall into place.

My parents always made it a priority to be present. To sit down for dinner together daily. To know who my friends were, my boyfriends. To know what their families were like. To know how I felt. To point me to truth. To know my heart. To be my friend, but to be my parent first. They cared who didn’t text back, what was written on the bathroom wall. They took me to Walmart in the middle of the night to buy a new outfit to wear to school after a boy broke my heart. And peanut butter to leave on my best friends door because he told me he’s smear it all over the boy’s car (xo Shawnny). They left me notes in my lunch box. They drove long distances to be my number one fan when I was second string, on my C-team middle school volleyball team. But they also reminded me how trivial it all was. How I wasn’t going to marry that silly boy and if I ever wanted to, to handle myself with dignity and grace. To be a girl I was proud to be. How C team or not, I was to play my best. That when my friends all formed an actual I HATE ELLIE club or I got made of fun for being prude or my face showed up on the Ultimate Sluts of Frisco Facebook page or my youth pastor had it out for me, that I needed to be kind. I needed to be careful with my words to them and about them. My mom would tell me that if I acted in a way that proved them wrong, that no one would be able to believe them anyway. I didn’t need to post a dramatic Facebook status, send crazy text messages or chew anyone out. Although I’m sure I slipped up at least a few times 😉 My Dad took me on dates and would explain to me all the things he was doing so I knew what kind of date I deserved. They were there for me when I cried and yet intentional about not letting me sit in it. The relationship they formed with me allowed for us to have goofy, playful moments but also important and intentional ones.

I hope to raise my kids where they know they can come to me for it all. That I won’t be too busy, too distracted, too focused on myself to hear about the rude text message from Leia’s best friend or the party Luke didn’t get invited to. That I won’t miss the glossed over eyes after a phone call, or the puffy eyes after a date. That we can quote silly movies and talk about who they think they’re going to marry when they’re 16, and talk about why sex is so special when you wait, why we choose to be non-reactive when people act crazy. I hope that I can pray with them when we’re celebrating and when we’re mourning. I hope to point them to scripture at our weakest, and at our strongest. And if I can do a decent job of that, I will be confident in the job I’ve done.

xo, e.

Leia Darling

My sweet Leia girl. Somehow 365 have gone by so quickly and yet I can’t imagine a time without you.

February 10, 2017. Your Daddy and I got up early and made our way to the hospital. We had an early appointment to be induced, despite my best efforts to evict you myself, you weren’t having it. 10 days late, we went ahead and moved forward with the induction.

The nurses were annoyed with me as I asked about every single thing they were trying to do. I was annoyed that I had to be induced and they were bothering me. One nurse insisted I take my nose ring out. In case I had to get an emergency C-section, they didn’t want it to get ripped out. (I later realized they would probably want to put a mask on, which makes slightly more sense, but it really put me off at the time.) I was starving and couldn’t eat. I talked about cheese fries from Chili’s on and off pretty much all day. I was just super sassy.

They started pitocin around 9. I sat in bed bitterly for quite some time. My mom and grandma and C insisted I try and walk around, try to get things going. But instead I sat in the bed being sassy. At some point your heart rate slowed down, and they had me put on an oxygen mask. I cried about it, but everyone assured me if they were worried, it wouldn’t just be a mask. That didn’t last long, maybe 30 minutes of having to wear the mask. The sass continued. Eventually I got up, mostly due to hunger, and honestly I was concerned about losing daylight for your picture. I got the ball and bounced around. Things started happening, quickly. I got the epidural. Praise for the drugs. And sweet Leia you came pretty quickly after that. I pushed for only a few minutes and there you were. I got to leave your cord attached for a while and when it was time to cut it, I got to do it myself. You laid on my chest and time stood still.

Everyone came to see you. Your grandparents brought Lukey to come see you. Brian and Alyssa brought two orders of cheese fries from Chili’s, I didn’t even offer them to anyone else. I just scarfed them down right there before they even moved our rooms.

We moved from the delivery room to the recovery room. My mom and Nana and your Daddy moved all the furniture in the room so we could take the cutest pictures of you. We brought balloons and party hats and just really soaked in your first birthday. The nurses were laughing at me and I didn’t even care. It was exactly how I wanted your special day to be.

We got to home so quickly the next day. The nurses were so kind to us and really tried to get us home as early as possible. They had me model you, and my going home outfit, around the hallway and I felt like a million bucks with my baby girl. We got home and my momma, your Lolli, and your tiny aunts, had decorated our front door with balloons and signs. It was just so sweet and we felt so loved.

Leia Darling, your birth story is simple and sweet. I am so grateful for how boring it was, and how perfect you are. You have changed our worlds with your dainty way, your toothy little smile and your love to snuggle. The way you suck your thumb, have your leg kicked right up by your ear at all times and have loved sleep since you were 9 weeks old reminds us of how laid back and gentle spirited you really are. We love you more than you can ever know, baby girl. Happy, happy Birthday Leia Darling.

xo, e.

Our tiniest secret

If you missed our latest news we are expecting sweet little baby number 3! We are filled with joy and excitement and little bit of fear 😉

This week we had a sonogram and my sweet family, especially my mama, came together to celebrate with us and tell us the gender of our teeniest tiniest member of our family.

In case you’re unfamiliar with how this works, most doctors want you to have a sonogram around 20 weeks. Some doctors like their patients to have a bunch before and after, others do not. It just depends on the office you’re in. My doctor sends us one time, unless necessary to check on the baby again. You can go to places who specifically only tell you the gender of your baby as early as 15 weeks, or do blood tests etc. We waited until our routinely scheduled sonogram. Once we get in there, we immediately tell the person doing it that if possible, we’d love for them to put our gender in an envelope for us. So she spends the first 20(ish) minutes showing us all the different pieces of our baby and then turns the screen so we can’t see the last part. Then we take the envelope to my momma and she gets to be the first in on our little secret!

Anyway, I felt bad to desire a party for myself, again. If you know my family at all, we are pretty much together every weekend celebrating someone’s birthday or graduation or holiday or baby. But they kept telling me I was being dumb and that they wanted to celebrate us and this little baby. So we decided to go for it.

So we arrived to my mamas a few hours after our sonogram, we don’t mind waiting, but only for a little bit 😉 she had the sweetest little table of treats set up and smoke bombs ready to tell us the gender of our little babe! We went to the park and lit them up. We’re excited and overjoyed at the news of our littlest bundle of joy!

And in case you’re not catching on, it’s another baby GIRL!!!!!

xo, e.