I had dinner last weekend with some good friends. In the midst of my telling the wife how terribly I am doing with diet, exercise, and self-discipline, she told me I needed to give myself some grace. Her words were something like, "You are a single mom with two kids under five and a full-time job. If you met someone doing that, you would be full of grace for them, why not for yourself?" I scoffed at that at the time, just knowing I could do better than I was doing. My house could be clean. I could workout a few times a week. I could eat better & drink less caffeine. I could. I should.
And, for a few days, I had myself fooled. Today, I can acknowledge how foolish it is to not have grace for myself. But first, a caveat. I am, by nature, ridiculously lazy. I enjoy sleeping. And eating ice cream. And bad TV. And talking to my friends. And word games. And reading. I love to read. Sigh....
I am sitting here, head pounding, shoulders hunched over with stress. This post was written on a Saturday. The one day of the week I do not have a schedule in the morning. We like to visit the farmer's market, but we're not required to be there at a particular time. Saturdays are also the only day I can have both of my morning cups of coffee at home. No slugging it down in the car on the way to somewhere else. What happened this Saturday morning? The same thing that happens the other six mornings of my week. Baby Batman coos happily from his crib around 6. And 4-year old Chickadee bounces into my room around the same time and says, "Mama, is it wake-up time?" That question is repeated, at different tempos & volumes, until I grumble something from under the pillow that sounds something like, "FINE. It can be wake-up time." But this morning, something happened. I'm not sure if it's the baby's ear infection, my headache, or the 4 year-old's desire for cereal before 6:15, but our morning was rough. So rough, in fact, that coffee was all I had until noon. (And we love our breakfast around here.) By the time lunch was ready, I'd already apologized twice for being so grouchy, and probably needed to double that number. When lunch was over, I was nearly in tears because I wanted a nap. Sure, the kids needed naps, but I think I was the only one who actively wanted one. Instead, I had to get this out first.
Single parents (including me), it is okay if you're not perfect. It is okay if your house is not sparkling clean. It is expected that you'll be a little tense some days. Don't feel guilty that you don't have time to juggle all the relationships you used to juggle. Ask for help when you need it. People who love you & your kids will help if they can.
Friends of single parents (including you, whether you're married or not), offer to help. Show up one evening just to drop off a rotisserie chicken (even if it's not for dinner that night, it will be eventually). Offer to take the kids somewhere on weekends, even for a couple of hours. Volunteer to babysit one night a month (or once a week, even) at the kids' house, so if mom/dad is out, they won't have to rush home for bedtime. Offer to mow the grass (or just do it one day your friends aren't home, in case your friends are prideful & refuse help). And, and, and. If you think it would minister to you, try it out with a single parent.
Those things would minister to me so much (and probably other single parents, too), that I feel less hunched over, just imagining that ONE of them could happen. I'm not saying everyone can do these things, or that married parents don't also need help somedays, but I want to say, loud and clear, I know I need help. I need God's grace, absolutely, but also the grace of my friends & family & neighbors so that my family can see God's grace in you, His hands & feet, right here. I can't speak for others, but I would love to be surprised by that grace.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
I Am Third.
"My first choice would be to go live with my mom. My second choice would be to live somewhere with my younger siblings. My third choice would be to stay with you." Truer words could not have come from my 12 year old's mouth. As much as she enjoys living with me, I am definitely third. She told me this, in no uncertain terms, about 2 months ago, and at that point, I was comfortable being third. Third place Olympians still get a spot on the stand and a medal, right? I thought I was pretty comfortable being third. Not the top of the heap, but not last, either.
Fast forward to now. There are plans, actively in the works, to have this precious 12 year old move to another state to live with her grandparents and her siblings. In my head, I am sure this is the absolute BEST thing for her, and her family. But, my heart is breaking a little bit. I had been able to convince myself that this was a mere 90% possibility, but after the past week, I know the wheels are turning to have her moved. "My" precious Big Girl is going somewhere else. I won't be able to hear her laugh. She won't ask for pizza & ice cream every night for dinner. She won't ask to stay up "just 30 more minutes" or play a game on the computer. We won't read together any more. We won't laugh ourselves silly, or cry when we forgive each other for hurts. She won't snuggle up against me at night to pray, or ask me to scratch her back when she lays down. My heart aches, and we have about 10 days left together. I'm sitting here tonight, with the littles sleeping & big girl out with friends, wondering what to do. How do we transition? How do I know she'll be okay?
I don't know. I pray. I have a glass of wine. I wonder about what it will be like when I am not first for the little ones either. I pray some more. I trust God to heal my shattered heart, and to mend their broken ones. I pray for the right words. I pray to only cry a little bit more. I hope the right words come when I tell the 3 year old where her "sister" is going. I hope she doesn't think brothers & sisters aren't forever. I remember that I signed up for this hurt, so that she would hurt less. I grieve.
But not yet. I hope I'm strong enough to love her well in her remaining days. I don't want to withdraw to avoid getting hurt. I want to send her to her family with the happiest of memories, not feeling like she escaped just in time. I want there to be that bittersweet mix of joy & sadness when she leaves, not just relief. But, like my 12 year old, what I REALLY want is home. I want to be in heaven, where there aren't hurts, or foster care, or orphans, or sadness; only joyous praise.
Fast forward to now. There are plans, actively in the works, to have this precious 12 year old move to another state to live with her grandparents and her siblings. In my head, I am sure this is the absolute BEST thing for her, and her family. But, my heart is breaking a little bit. I had been able to convince myself that this was a mere 90% possibility, but after the past week, I know the wheels are turning to have her moved. "My" precious Big Girl is going somewhere else. I won't be able to hear her laugh. She won't ask for pizza & ice cream every night for dinner. She won't ask to stay up "just 30 more minutes" or play a game on the computer. We won't read together any more. We won't laugh ourselves silly, or cry when we forgive each other for hurts. She won't snuggle up against me at night to pray, or ask me to scratch her back when she lays down. My heart aches, and we have about 10 days left together. I'm sitting here tonight, with the littles sleeping & big girl out with friends, wondering what to do. How do we transition? How do I know she'll be okay?
I don't know. I pray. I have a glass of wine. I wonder about what it will be like when I am not first for the little ones either. I pray some more. I trust God to heal my shattered heart, and to mend their broken ones. I pray for the right words. I pray to only cry a little bit more. I hope the right words come when I tell the 3 year old where her "sister" is going. I hope she doesn't think brothers & sisters aren't forever. I remember that I signed up for this hurt, so that she would hurt less. I grieve.
But not yet. I hope I'm strong enough to love her well in her remaining days. I don't want to withdraw to avoid getting hurt. I want to send her to her family with the happiest of memories, not feeling like she escaped just in time. I want there to be that bittersweet mix of joy & sadness when she leaves, not just relief. But, like my 12 year old, what I REALLY want is home. I want to be in heaven, where there aren't hurts, or foster care, or orphans, or sadness; only joyous praise.
Friday, April 6, 2012
Hard. Good. Truth.
I have been thinking about writing for a long time, but I have struggled to put my thoughts into words. Every once in a while (usually while driving or taking a shower) I will think of a really eloquent way to say a part of what's on my heart, but the busy-ness of life with three kids & 1 mom takes over and whatever that thought was escapes.
But, I am here now, so I am going to try to put some words down, to flex my writer's muscle once again. H, my 12 year old, is roller skating with a friend. Roller skating! I wasn't even sure kids did that any more. I am thankful for the family who invited her along. I had no idea a 12 year old would be so HARD. I mean, I was a terror at 12, but I thought I was the exception. Apparently not. H is not a terror, she's just hard. **EDIT I don't think she's particularly hard, I think any 12 year old, with hormones blossoming, and peer pressure, and moodiness, would be hard. I guess I just thought I'd be better at being her parent. The mom who took her roller skating texted me a bit ago with this: "She is a good kid. Very polite. You're doing a great job. Don't know if you hear it enough. Thank God for people like you." **I try to remember, often several times a day, that her being hard is not her fault. She has lived with me just under 4 months, and that is not nearly enough time to re-do the, shall we say, lackadaisical supervision she had with her biological family. I see so much of myself in H. When I was her age, I made up lies to my mom, just to see if I could get away with it. I think H makes up lies because they're less painful than the truth. I really don't even think I know all of her truth yet. Although I refer to her as my Big Girl, I think on the inside she is more like a scared six year old. She looks around at me, at the little ones in the house, and although she says she wants us to be her family, I think she really misses her mom & her siblings. Who wouldn't? Just today, when we were talking about school and consequences she said, "Why do you have to take things away from me? Haven't I lost everything already? I already don't get to see my mom and my sister." I tried not to react defensively, but instead to hear her pleading--why me? Heartbreaking. With her, and soon with the others, I know there are NO GOOD ANSWERS. I can tell her I am sad with her. I can console her & pray with her. But I can't tell her she hasn't had much taken away. How do I help her cope with being broken-hearted? I don't know.
With L, my Little Miss, days are getting better--mostly. With me, and with her baby brother, she is usually super-sweet. Don't get me wrong, she is still 3, but she's sweet. She is smart & funny. Just tonight, at dinner, she got to laughing so hard (at absolutely nothing) that she started spitting water & drenched the front of her shirt. But, with the Big Girl, my Little Miss is mean. She uses what we call mean words. They are not usually terrible or untrue things, but the tone of voice she uses is reserved exclusively for H. I used to ignore it & think, "Well, she's 12, she's not affected by a 3 year old's words." Wrong again, mama. When she told me that she thinks I love L and not her, it shattered my heart. I had to start paying attention! So now, at least 4 times a day, I sit with L and have her try again. How did you say that? Say that again. Ask for forgiveness. Hug. Move on. It is time-consuming, but worth it. Recently, at the park, L was playing & singing a song. I listened to it & cracked up. "What do you say? Sor-ry. When do you say it? Now." (Imagine it as a protester's chant. There. You've got it.) My words, her song. This is my life.
G, my Little Man, is awesome. He eats well. Sleeps like a dream--still. At nearly 4 months old, he's sleeping 11-12 hours a night & growing like a weed. When I see him trying so hard to roll over or hold his head up, and when he cracks up at his sisters' kisses & tickles (they say, "Mama/Amy, did you hear him giggle?") I cannot imagine a life without him. He is red-headed, still, with big blue eyes and a smile that almost never leaves his face. He especially loves H (most babies are just drawn to her), and his whole face smiles when he sees her. Someone commented the other day that he looks like a rooster w/his little red mohawk. I'm alright with that! He has lots of nicknames--GG, Bear, Brother Bear. With every one, I hear love.
Here is the dilemma most foster parents face, and I face it every day: They are not mine. I am not promised to be their mom. My job, my calling, is to be the best mom to them that I can for today, however many todays that may be. We are progressing toward adoption with L, and I am optimistic that will be completed. The other two loves are still question marks. What will happen? How long? Will they remember me? Will they remember how much God loves them? What's next? And more & more questions. More than I can bear some days. Then I remember that even in answered questions, there is heartache. The only reason they are with me is because they have experienced trauma. Piled on top of that trauma was losing the only families they've ever known. Even if none of them ever goes back with their biological families, there are still hurts to come. More hurts as they understand more about their history. Grief. Pain. Loss. Separation. Not knowing. Why?
Fortunately, God, my adopted daddy, bears me up. He promises he loves me, and them--more than I do or can even imagine. I am thankful for that. I pray I can somehow shine a little light into their lives--enough for them to see that God is SO good, even in their heartache & sadness. I pray-every day-that God would save them, save their birth families, heal their heartache, show them truth. I don't know how those prayers will be answered, but I trust in the God of truth to have it be for our good & His glory. That is a truth I am sure of & never question.
But, I am here now, so I am going to try to put some words down, to flex my writer's muscle once again. H, my 12 year old, is roller skating with a friend. Roller skating! I wasn't even sure kids did that any more. I am thankful for the family who invited her along. I had no idea a 12 year old would be so HARD. I mean, I was a terror at 12, but I thought I was the exception. Apparently not. H is not a terror, she's just hard. **EDIT I don't think she's particularly hard, I think any 12 year old, with hormones blossoming, and peer pressure, and moodiness, would be hard. I guess I just thought I'd be better at being her parent. The mom who took her roller skating texted me a bit ago with this: "She is a good kid. Very polite. You're doing a great job. Don't know if you hear it enough. Thank God for people like you." **I try to remember, often several times a day, that her being hard is not her fault. She has lived with me just under 4 months, and that is not nearly enough time to re-do the, shall we say, lackadaisical supervision she had with her biological family. I see so much of myself in H. When I was her age, I made up lies to my mom, just to see if I could get away with it. I think H makes up lies because they're less painful than the truth. I really don't even think I know all of her truth yet. Although I refer to her as my Big Girl, I think on the inside she is more like a scared six year old. She looks around at me, at the little ones in the house, and although she says she wants us to be her family, I think she really misses her mom & her siblings. Who wouldn't? Just today, when we were talking about school and consequences she said, "Why do you have to take things away from me? Haven't I lost everything already? I already don't get to see my mom and my sister." I tried not to react defensively, but instead to hear her pleading--why me? Heartbreaking. With her, and soon with the others, I know there are NO GOOD ANSWERS. I can tell her I am sad with her. I can console her & pray with her. But I can't tell her she hasn't had much taken away. How do I help her cope with being broken-hearted? I don't know.
With L, my Little Miss, days are getting better--mostly. With me, and with her baby brother, she is usually super-sweet. Don't get me wrong, she is still 3, but she's sweet. She is smart & funny. Just tonight, at dinner, she got to laughing so hard (at absolutely nothing) that she started spitting water & drenched the front of her shirt. But, with the Big Girl, my Little Miss is mean. She uses what we call mean words. They are not usually terrible or untrue things, but the tone of voice she uses is reserved exclusively for H. I used to ignore it & think, "Well, she's 12, she's not affected by a 3 year old's words." Wrong again, mama. When she told me that she thinks I love L and not her, it shattered my heart. I had to start paying attention! So now, at least 4 times a day, I sit with L and have her try again. How did you say that? Say that again. Ask for forgiveness. Hug. Move on. It is time-consuming, but worth it. Recently, at the park, L was playing & singing a song. I listened to it & cracked up. "What do you say? Sor-ry. When do you say it? Now." (Imagine it as a protester's chant. There. You've got it.) My words, her song. This is my life.
G, my Little Man, is awesome. He eats well. Sleeps like a dream--still. At nearly 4 months old, he's sleeping 11-12 hours a night & growing like a weed. When I see him trying so hard to roll over or hold his head up, and when he cracks up at his sisters' kisses & tickles (they say, "Mama/Amy, did you hear him giggle?") I cannot imagine a life without him. He is red-headed, still, with big blue eyes and a smile that almost never leaves his face. He especially loves H (most babies are just drawn to her), and his whole face smiles when he sees her. Someone commented the other day that he looks like a rooster w/his little red mohawk. I'm alright with that! He has lots of nicknames--GG, Bear, Brother Bear. With every one, I hear love.
Here is the dilemma most foster parents face, and I face it every day: They are not mine. I am not promised to be their mom. My job, my calling, is to be the best mom to them that I can for today, however many todays that may be. We are progressing toward adoption with L, and I am optimistic that will be completed. The other two loves are still question marks. What will happen? How long? Will they remember me? Will they remember how much God loves them? What's next? And more & more questions. More than I can bear some days. Then I remember that even in answered questions, there is heartache. The only reason they are with me is because they have experienced trauma. Piled on top of that trauma was losing the only families they've ever known. Even if none of them ever goes back with their biological families, there are still hurts to come. More hurts as they understand more about their history. Grief. Pain. Loss. Separation. Not knowing. Why?
Fortunately, God, my adopted daddy, bears me up. He promises he loves me, and them--more than I do or can even imagine. I am thankful for that. I pray I can somehow shine a little light into their lives--enough for them to see that God is SO good, even in their heartache & sadness. I pray-every day-that God would save them, save their birth families, heal their heartache, show them truth. I don't know how those prayers will be answered, but I trust in the God of truth to have it be for our good & His glory. That is a truth I am sure of & never question.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
One year
One year ago today, my life was changed completely.
One year ago today, a precious, beautiful girl walked into my life, and yesterday I learned that I'll be able to adopt her. We are forever family. Forever.
Yesterday my Little Miss got a baby brother. We're praying fervently for him to come home so we can share and celebrate our life with him.
I am so thankful it is Advent, and we have been talking about waiting. Waiting for a Savior. Waiting for God to fulfill his promises. It has been good training for my heart as I wait for Little Man to come home. I haven't even met him and I miss him already.
One year ago today, a precious, beautiful girl walked into my life, and yesterday I learned that I'll be able to adopt her. We are forever family. Forever.
Yesterday my Little Miss got a baby brother. We're praying fervently for him to come home so we can share and celebrate our life with him.
I am so thankful it is Advent, and we have been talking about waiting. Waiting for a Savior. Waiting for God to fulfill his promises. It has been good training for my heart as I wait for Little Man to come home. I haven't even met him and I miss him already.
Friday, November 11, 2011
An Open Letter
I wrote this heartfelt letter to the judge who was supposed to hear our case yesterday. I had several drafts. I really wanted to summarize how Little Miss has grown & changed over the almost year she's been with me. I wanted him to see how we've become family. Here is (most) of that letter:
Dear Judge,
I am writing, hoping you'll see fit to allow me to start adoption proceedings for Little Miss, who has been my foster daughter since December 2010.
When Little Miss came to live with me, she was very polite, but seemed hollow somehow. Although she knew the names of every television character, she would not look me, or anyone, in the eyes. She was very scared. She didn't like going to bed, brushing her teeth, or taking a bath. She was particularly frightened of men, and would cling to me when there were men in her presence. Little Miss's speech was understandable, but her vocabulary was limited, and she usually only used two-word phrases like "Help, please" or "Mama, up."
In the eleven months Little Miss has been with me, she has blossomed in many, many ways. Just last week, she asked me to read a book to her, with a 7-word sentence. Seven beautiful, clear, precious words! What a joy!
Little Miss has grown in more ways than just her speech. She identifies many letters, colors, and shapes. She has memorized several books and loves to "read" them to me when she pretends to be the mama.
Instead of living in an inward, hollow way, she now lights up every room she enters. She is silly and funny. She loves to dance and sing. Little Miss notices when friends at day care or church are sad or scared, and stands by, ready to hug or help.
I am one of 13 children, and Little Miss and I have had several opportunities to interact with my family. On a trip to Colorado in June, Little Miss got to fly in an airplane, ride on a bus, and take a train up to Pike's Peak with an assortment of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Amazingly, Little Miss retained most of their names from June to October, when we visited family in Missouri. When I tell you Little Miss is my family, I mean it in every way. If I am allowed to adopt her, she will also be adopted by dozens and dozens of extended family. In our minds and our hearts, Little Miss is already a Drake.
I love Little Miss. I love that she now is safe and secure. I love that she is learning about decisions and consequences. I love that Little Miss is learning about faith and community.
Our last eleven months have not always been easy--life rarely is. We have both shed tears. Through those tears, though, I see one thing clearly, Little Miss and I ARE a family.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
I sit here today, trying to recover from not even having the opportunity to hand my letter to the judge. Our broken system requires another delay. Another month. I had counted on all the people involved in this case to have done everything they were supposed to do SO much, that when it hadn't happened, I just fell apart.
And my idol is exposed. I want to be her forever mom SO much, that I have discarded my true God, and replaced Him with this idol. Devastation. Despair. Wanting to be her forever mom is not a bad thing, but it is not an ultimate thing. The devastation and despair I've allowed into my life show what happens when we place our hope on the wrong things.
Oh, Lord, help me. Help me to remember that you are refining me in this fire. Help me to lift my eyes to YOU, the One who can satisfy. You are the one who knows what needs to be done here. And as much as I love Little Miss, YOU love her more. And you love me too much to let me wallow in this despair.
I lift my eyes to you. More than ever, now I need to see You, Your character. Your care, Your compassion. Let me not waste the days wondering WHY, instead remind me to rest in You. You are always good--both to me and for me. Even now.
Dear Judge,
I am writing, hoping you'll see fit to allow me to start adoption proceedings for Little Miss, who has been my foster daughter since December 2010.
When Little Miss came to live with me, she was very polite, but seemed hollow somehow. Although she knew the names of every television character, she would not look me, or anyone, in the eyes. She was very scared. She didn't like going to bed, brushing her teeth, or taking a bath. She was particularly frightened of men, and would cling to me when there were men in her presence. Little Miss's speech was understandable, but her vocabulary was limited, and she usually only used two-word phrases like "Help, please" or "Mama, up."
In the eleven months Little Miss has been with me, she has blossomed in many, many ways. Just last week, she asked me to read a book to her, with a 7-word sentence. Seven beautiful, clear, precious words! What a joy!
Little Miss has grown in more ways than just her speech. She identifies many letters, colors, and shapes. She has memorized several books and loves to "read" them to me when she pretends to be the mama.
Instead of living in an inward, hollow way, she now lights up every room she enters. She is silly and funny. She loves to dance and sing. Little Miss notices when friends at day care or church are sad or scared, and stands by, ready to hug or help.
I am one of 13 children, and Little Miss and I have had several opportunities to interact with my family. On a trip to Colorado in June, Little Miss got to fly in an airplane, ride on a bus, and take a train up to Pike's Peak with an assortment of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Amazingly, Little Miss retained most of their names from June to October, when we visited family in Missouri. When I tell you Little Miss is my family, I mean it in every way. If I am allowed to adopt her, she will also be adopted by dozens and dozens of extended family. In our minds and our hearts, Little Miss is already a Drake.
I love Little Miss. I love that she now is safe and secure. I love that she is learning about decisions and consequences. I love that Little Miss is learning about faith and community.
Our last eleven months have not always been easy--life rarely is. We have both shed tears. Through those tears, though, I see one thing clearly, Little Miss and I ARE a family.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
I sit here today, trying to recover from not even having the opportunity to hand my letter to the judge. Our broken system requires another delay. Another month. I had counted on all the people involved in this case to have done everything they were supposed to do SO much, that when it hadn't happened, I just fell apart.
And my idol is exposed. I want to be her forever mom SO much, that I have discarded my true God, and replaced Him with this idol. Devastation. Despair. Wanting to be her forever mom is not a bad thing, but it is not an ultimate thing. The devastation and despair I've allowed into my life show what happens when we place our hope on the wrong things.
Oh, Lord, help me. Help me to remember that you are refining me in this fire. Help me to lift my eyes to YOU, the One who can satisfy. You are the one who knows what needs to be done here. And as much as I love Little Miss, YOU love her more. And you love me too much to let me wallow in this despair.
I lift my eyes to you. More than ever, now I need to see You, Your character. Your care, Your compassion. Let me not waste the days wondering WHY, instead remind me to rest in You. You are always good--both to me and for me. Even now.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Come as You Are
If we're coming as we are to our relationships, are we accepted? Are we acceptable? I'm not sure. I think I will be. Want to know the good news? No matter HOW we come to God, in sweats or formal wear, He sees us for who we really are...sinners in need of saving. So, take off the tuxedos and ballgowns (unless you're going to a formal event--then it's okay) and BE who you are. Know that God loves you (and me, and that guy over there) no matter what we are on the outside as long as we know WHOSE we are!
I know that's the kind of way I usually end my writing, so let me take a few steps back.
I was thinking today about an old Daisy Duck cartoon. In it, she is playing dress up, and one of her friends calls her and invites her to a "come as you are" party. She goes as she is, and her friends make her feel terrible for being so dressed up. She is ostracized for coming as she was. (I honestly went to youtube to try to find a clip to link for you, but I was unsuccessful.) Please don't overthink WHY this cartoon was in my head--I don't think I can afford the therapy for that! But, it did get me thinking about how we present ourselves to the world. Let me go back a step.
Our Sunday and Monday were pretty tough. Little Miss started our Sunday bedtime routine by dunking clean panties into the toilet and flinging the (blessedly) clean water all over our bathroom. She ended the bedtime routine by NOT EVER GOING TO BED. That's a bit of an exaggeration, but she was up about 6 times that night, once for 2 hours straight. It was like a horrible game of tag. She'd come to my bed, I'd put her back in her bed, certain she was asleep, then go to bed. Mere minutes later she was back in my bed. I even tried sleeping in the spare bed in her room to offer her some comfort, but then she was just trying to climb into that bed. I was exhausted. We somehow survived the day, only to have the bedtime game of tag start again. My exhaustion lost me the game, and at 330, I woke to her sweet voice saying, "Mama. Mama." I looked, and she was covered in what I thought was blood! Heavens, the panic! I got her out into the hallway, in the light, to see that, instead, she was covered in a mysterious black substance. When I asked her what it was, she told me it was marker. Now, being the mom, I know where the markers are kept, and I was fairly sure it WASN'T marker. I told her to show me which marker. She proceeded into the bathroom, opened a drawer, then opened....mascara. My almost-3-year old's face was covered in mascara. I switched from terror to anger in no time. I managed to get her cleaned up AND find the baby gate in the garage in under 10 minutes.
Needless to say, I couldn't take it any more. I needed a way to help her sleep better. I set up the gate, gave her very clear instructions "Do Not Touch The Gate" because all adults know that stinkin' thing won't hold up if she wants to get out of her room! And, God Bless Us Every One, she has slept through the night every night since then. This morning, with a bit of cloud cover, my angel slept until 7am! She read in bed until 8. I am a much happier mama with some sleep on board. Much. Happier.
I promise there is a connection between this and Daisy Duck. I really do. Apparently, I've held onto this idea for a while, and here it is: It's that parents (Christians, families, neighbors...pick your favorite) just get it right every time. Instead, we do our best to play dress up when others are around and lay around in our sweats the rest of the time. I do TRY to be a good mama. I really do. So, when you ask me, "How are things going with Little Miss?" I'll tell you we're doing well. I'll tell you about how she bumped her chin and what a fun kid she is, but I'll leave off the parts where I lose my patience, or where time out lasts a few minutes longer than it should, or where I just couldn't give her a bath last night because we were too darn tired.
I will try, going forward, to not play dress up with you. I will let you know the good with the bad. Some weeks (okay, maybe not weeks--but days? or hours?) we may really be doing well. My prayers of having strength and skills equal to my tasks are being answered, so I expect some times I'll feel like Daisy Duck with the phone ringing. Some days, though, I'll tell you, "This is hard. Harder than I've ever imagined it would be. I'm exhausted and impatient. I'm short-tempered and not very nice." And then, as now, I'll ask you to pray for Little Miss and me, as we figure out how to be mama and daughter.
I know that's the kind of way I usually end my writing, so let me take a few steps back.
I was thinking today about an old Daisy Duck cartoon. In it, she is playing dress up, and one of her friends calls her and invites her to a "come as you are" party. She goes as she is, and her friends make her feel terrible for being so dressed up. She is ostracized for coming as she was. (I honestly went to youtube to try to find a clip to link for you, but I was unsuccessful.) Please don't overthink WHY this cartoon was in my head--I don't think I can afford the therapy for that! But, it did get me thinking about how we present ourselves to the world. Let me go back a step.
Our Sunday and Monday were pretty tough. Little Miss started our Sunday bedtime routine by dunking clean panties into the toilet and flinging the (blessedly) clean water all over our bathroom. She ended the bedtime routine by NOT EVER GOING TO BED. That's a bit of an exaggeration, but she was up about 6 times that night, once for 2 hours straight. It was like a horrible game of tag. She'd come to my bed, I'd put her back in her bed, certain she was asleep, then go to bed. Mere minutes later she was back in my bed. I even tried sleeping in the spare bed in her room to offer her some comfort, but then she was just trying to climb into that bed. I was exhausted. We somehow survived the day, only to have the bedtime game of tag start again. My exhaustion lost me the game, and at 330, I woke to her sweet voice saying, "Mama. Mama." I looked, and she was covered in what I thought was blood! Heavens, the panic! I got her out into the hallway, in the light, to see that, instead, she was covered in a mysterious black substance. When I asked her what it was, she told me it was marker. Now, being the mom, I know where the markers are kept, and I was fairly sure it WASN'T marker. I told her to show me which marker. She proceeded into the bathroom, opened a drawer, then opened....mascara. My almost-3-year old's face was covered in mascara. I switched from terror to anger in no time. I managed to get her cleaned up AND find the baby gate in the garage in under 10 minutes.
Needless to say, I couldn't take it any more. I needed a way to help her sleep better. I set up the gate, gave her very clear instructions "Do Not Touch The Gate" because all adults know that stinkin' thing won't hold up if she wants to get out of her room! And, God Bless Us Every One, she has slept through the night every night since then. This morning, with a bit of cloud cover, my angel slept until 7am! She read in bed until 8. I am a much happier mama with some sleep on board. Much. Happier.
I promise there is a connection between this and Daisy Duck. I really do. Apparently, I've held onto this idea for a while, and here it is: It's that parents (Christians, families, neighbors...pick your favorite) just get it right every time. Instead, we do our best to play dress up when others are around and lay around in our sweats the rest of the time. I do TRY to be a good mama. I really do. So, when you ask me, "How are things going with Little Miss?" I'll tell you we're doing well. I'll tell you about how she bumped her chin and what a fun kid she is, but I'll leave off the parts where I lose my patience, or where time out lasts a few minutes longer than it should, or where I just couldn't give her a bath last night because we were too darn tired.
I will try, going forward, to not play dress up with you. I will let you know the good with the bad. Some weeks (okay, maybe not weeks--but days? or hours?) we may really be doing well. My prayers of having strength and skills equal to my tasks are being answered, so I expect some times I'll feel like Daisy Duck with the phone ringing. Some days, though, I'll tell you, "This is hard. Harder than I've ever imagined it would be. I'm exhausted and impatient. I'm short-tempered and not very nice." And then, as now, I'll ask you to pray for Little Miss and me, as we figure out how to be mama and daughter.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Recent Ramblings
I am feeling sort of numb, as if this week hasn't really happened. I am tired. Little girl is tired.
Big girl went home. Suddenly. On Tuesday. Everyone involved with the case seemed shocked that the judge decided she could go home. But he did, so off she went. I cried, and slept, and cried some more. And since about midday on Wednesday I have just felt numb, almost as if it's just too much effort to cry anymore.
Fortunately, God is still good. That doesn't necessarily make this time any easier, but truth is truth. From Psalm 38:9-11: "Lord, all my desire is before You; And my sighing is not hidden from You. My heart throbs, my strength fails me; And the light of my eyes, even that has gone from me. My loved ones and my friends stand aloof from my plague; And my kinsmen stand afar off." Most of my family and friends have experienced loss and grief. They have mourned. I know I'm not alone in the sadness. I just keep praying for the big girl & her mom...knowing the awful situation she came from and the abrupt "promise of change" from her mom do not make me confident that she will be safe, cared for, and loved like she deserves to be loved. I just keep asking God to pursue them, to be irresistible to them.
But then I doubt. I am such a broken vessel & a horrible teacher. Did I show her truly who God is? Did I fully show her the life-changing power of God's grace? I know I didn't. Thankfully, I am not alone. Lots of people stood in the gap of this precious girl's life to shine a small ray of His goodness and glory to her. I pray He continues His work in her life. All for our good and His glory.
Meanwhile, I'm contemplating the trip we planned to Colorado. Instead of a party of 3, it will just be the little one and me. Time with family, praise God. Time to witness and celebrate a wedding, time to introduce the precious child God has blessed me with (for however long) to the people who have shaped me most.
My caseworker visited last night and her hardest question was, "What are you doing to take care of you?" Honestly, I answered with "Nothing." I am possibly in the worst physical shape of my life. The only time I regularly see friends is at church. I just feel like I spend my life either at work or at home. As a mom, that shouldn't surprise me. How do I balance mom life with healthy life?
I am hunting for a new job. Praying about where I think God is calling me. Possibly starting a non-profit to offer support and encouragement to foster/adoptive families. Possibly starting a small foster group home with some other friends. Just praying, waiting, listening for God's voice in all of the insane plans I have--or that I want to have.
Little girl's plan is changing. Instead of currently planning for reunification, CPS's current plan is for non-relative adoption--meaning me. Though the idea of that is amazing, I am trying not to put all of my hope there because the roller coaster can be an ugly place some days. Who knows what can change at any moment? Also, little girl's mom is pregnant. Crazy thing is, if her parental rights are terminated on the little one I've got, then her parental rights will be terminated with any future children born to her. So, that means new baby could end up with me, too. It's a SUPER long shot, but how world-rocking would that be? To be 38 (almost 39) with a newborn and a 3 year old? I must officially be insane.
Writing is very cathartic for me, so I appreciate you reading through my ramblings. Most nights when I sit down w/my laptop, the warmth it sends into my body just puts me straight to sleep, so I'm glad I started this post earlier than normal.
I covet your prayers for my big girl & my little girl. I ask for prayers on how to prioritize & balance my life. Please pray for my job hunt. Please pray for peace & contentment in our roller-coastery situation.
Even though the world didn't end on May 21st, sometimes I crave that day. The day we no longer have to say, "Come, Lord Jesus, come make this world right again. Put an end to sin and suffering and death. Make all the broken things whole. Including me."
Amen.
Big girl went home. Suddenly. On Tuesday. Everyone involved with the case seemed shocked that the judge decided she could go home. But he did, so off she went. I cried, and slept, and cried some more. And since about midday on Wednesday I have just felt numb, almost as if it's just too much effort to cry anymore.
Fortunately, God is still good. That doesn't necessarily make this time any easier, but truth is truth. From Psalm 38:9-11: "Lord, all my desire is before You; And my sighing is not hidden from You. My heart throbs, my strength fails me; And the light of my eyes, even that has gone from me. My loved ones and my friends stand aloof from my plague; And my kinsmen stand afar off." Most of my family and friends have experienced loss and grief. They have mourned. I know I'm not alone in the sadness. I just keep praying for the big girl & her mom...knowing the awful situation she came from and the abrupt "promise of change" from her mom do not make me confident that she will be safe, cared for, and loved like she deserves to be loved. I just keep asking God to pursue them, to be irresistible to them.
But then I doubt. I am such a broken vessel & a horrible teacher. Did I show her truly who God is? Did I fully show her the life-changing power of God's grace? I know I didn't. Thankfully, I am not alone. Lots of people stood in the gap of this precious girl's life to shine a small ray of His goodness and glory to her. I pray He continues His work in her life. All for our good and His glory.
Meanwhile, I'm contemplating the trip we planned to Colorado. Instead of a party of 3, it will just be the little one and me. Time with family, praise God. Time to witness and celebrate a wedding, time to introduce the precious child God has blessed me with (for however long) to the people who have shaped me most.
My caseworker visited last night and her hardest question was, "What are you doing to take care of you?" Honestly, I answered with "Nothing." I am possibly in the worst physical shape of my life. The only time I regularly see friends is at church. I just feel like I spend my life either at work or at home. As a mom, that shouldn't surprise me. How do I balance mom life with healthy life?
I am hunting for a new job. Praying about where I think God is calling me. Possibly starting a non-profit to offer support and encouragement to foster/adoptive families. Possibly starting a small foster group home with some other friends. Just praying, waiting, listening for God's voice in all of the insane plans I have--or that I want to have.
Little girl's plan is changing. Instead of currently planning for reunification, CPS's current plan is for non-relative adoption--meaning me. Though the idea of that is amazing, I am trying not to put all of my hope there because the roller coaster can be an ugly place some days. Who knows what can change at any moment? Also, little girl's mom is pregnant. Crazy thing is, if her parental rights are terminated on the little one I've got, then her parental rights will be terminated with any future children born to her. So, that means new baby could end up with me, too. It's a SUPER long shot, but how world-rocking would that be? To be 38 (almost 39) with a newborn and a 3 year old? I must officially be insane.
Writing is very cathartic for me, so I appreciate you reading through my ramblings. Most nights when I sit down w/my laptop, the warmth it sends into my body just puts me straight to sleep, so I'm glad I started this post earlier than normal.
I covet your prayers for my big girl & my little girl. I ask for prayers on how to prioritize & balance my life. Please pray for my job hunt. Please pray for peace & contentment in our roller-coastery situation.
Even though the world didn't end on May 21st, sometimes I crave that day. The day we no longer have to say, "Come, Lord Jesus, come make this world right again. Put an end to sin and suffering and death. Make all the broken things whole. Including me."
Amen.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Roller coaster
Whoo. What a week! I started trying to prepare my heart that the big girl would go home this week and then the whole foster parent roller coaster ride started. To be fair to roller coasters, at least with them I see the track and I know how it's supposed to end, not so much with foster care.
Tuesday rolled around, and the caseworker told me she needed to do some investigating of birth mom's history to see if she really was safe for big girl to go home (which I thought should have been going on since big girl was removed from her mom, but whatever), and that most likely big girl would be w/me another month. I was thrilled on two counts--one, of course, I get more time with her precious heart, and two--that would mean that she would really be going home to someone who's safe, not questionable--but that didn't last long....less than 15 minutes. Big girl then told the caseworker she wanted to move to another home because she didn't feel safe (long story, but potentially, she could really not be safe) in my neighborhood. As she left my house, the caseworker informed me that big girl would be moving within a week, b/c they couldn't let her stay here and feel unsafe. Also, because of her concerns w/safety, big girl would no longer be allowed to play outside.
Then on Wednesday big girl's caseworker decided to stop communicating with me, and here we sit, in limbo. Apparently she did her month's worth of work and investigation in 24 hours, so we've come full circle to where big girl is ready to go home--again. Big girl doesn't know it yet, and I don't know when, so I feel at loose ends.
What to do? We go on with life. Today is chore day. Time to do laundry and clean bathrooms. Some time to play. We got kolaches and doughnuts for breakfast, then went to a park WAY across town to play. Both girls are in their room playing school. I sat down to write this, then it's off to the races getting the house straightened up. I just love these girls so much I want them to have some normalcy, some stability, and lots of love, lots of security. I don't want to hold on to the frustration at the situation, I just want to hold on to them. Pray for all of us, please! I know we need that more than anything.
Tuesday rolled around, and the caseworker told me she needed to do some investigating of birth mom's history to see if she really was safe for big girl to go home (which I thought should have been going on since big girl was removed from her mom, but whatever), and that most likely big girl would be w/me another month. I was thrilled on two counts--one, of course, I get more time with her precious heart, and two--that would mean that she would really be going home to someone who's safe, not questionable--but that didn't last long....less than 15 minutes. Big girl then told the caseworker she wanted to move to another home because she didn't feel safe (long story, but potentially, she could really not be safe) in my neighborhood. As she left my house, the caseworker informed me that big girl would be moving within a week, b/c they couldn't let her stay here and feel unsafe. Also, because of her concerns w/safety, big girl would no longer be allowed to play outside.
Then on Wednesday big girl's caseworker decided to stop communicating with me, and here we sit, in limbo. Apparently she did her month's worth of work and investigation in 24 hours, so we've come full circle to where big girl is ready to go home--again. Big girl doesn't know it yet, and I don't know when, so I feel at loose ends.
What to do? We go on with life. Today is chore day. Time to do laundry and clean bathrooms. Some time to play. We got kolaches and doughnuts for breakfast, then went to a park WAY across town to play. Both girls are in their room playing school. I sat down to write this, then it's off to the races getting the house straightened up. I just love these girls so much I want them to have some normalcy, some stability, and lots of love, lots of security. I don't want to hold on to the frustration at the situation, I just want to hold on to them. Pray for all of us, please! I know we need that more than anything.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
God is good.
I cried today. Really cried. At church. With friends. With the girls. A lot. Seems an odd way to point out that God is good, but he is.
I've been trying to process the logistics of the big girl going home in the next week or so. I've been focusing heavily on logistics because it was all I could handle. Any time I thought about her leaving, it just made me sad, in spite of how happy SHE is. I've put on my brave face, trying to just be okay. Truth is, I'm not okay, but when I think of it, none of us are.
I picked up a copy of a kids' catechism book today because the girls and I have been reviewing the first three questions, and I think they're ready for more. Questions 4-6 opened some interesting doors today. We talked about how striving to do what God wants us to do is only possible because he first loves us. We talked about how God cares for us in relationships with others. We talked about cancer and orphans and love and sin and Satan and forgiveness. I talked about how I hate apologizing but how important it is. We talked a lot, obviously.
So, in this time that will be very difficult, without doubt, it was a good day to remember that God is still good. As was preached in church today, even when we run after other loves, God loves us yet.
Amen and amen.
**Edit**We also got to have a tea party at Debby's house. The kids had gotten out a tea set during a game of house, and dinner was ready, so Debby & I served them on the porch. They used the tiny tea party plates and cups, and we served dinner in courses, pretending to be fancy. What fun!
I've been trying to process the logistics of the big girl going home in the next week or so. I've been focusing heavily on logistics because it was all I could handle. Any time I thought about her leaving, it just made me sad, in spite of how happy SHE is. I've put on my brave face, trying to just be okay. Truth is, I'm not okay, but when I think of it, none of us are.
I picked up a copy of a kids' catechism book today because the girls and I have been reviewing the first three questions, and I think they're ready for more. Questions 4-6 opened some interesting doors today. We talked about how striving to do what God wants us to do is only possible because he first loves us. We talked about how God cares for us in relationships with others. We talked about cancer and orphans and love and sin and Satan and forgiveness. I talked about how I hate apologizing but how important it is. We talked a lot, obviously.
So, in this time that will be very difficult, without doubt, it was a good day to remember that God is still good. As was preached in church today, even when we run after other loves, God loves us yet.
Amen and amen.
**Edit**We also got to have a tea party at Debby's house. The kids had gotten out a tea set during a game of house, and dinner was ready, so Debby & I served them on the porch. They used the tiny tea party plates and cups, and we served dinner in courses, pretending to be fancy. What fun!
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Yes!
We have had a great weekend. I tried something I have done as an aunt, and said yes to a whole lot of things I might normally think we don't have time for. We watched a movie (twice!) We played at a fun new park. We went to a carnival. We had friends over & went to friends houses for extended amounts of time. And guess what? In all the fun, we still managed to grocery shop, clean bedrooms & bathrooms, and catch up on laundry. And yes, I said we. Both girls pitched in & worked fast to make more time for all that fun. Plus, there's a cake in the oven. Made from scratch. Who knew all this fun could be had?
I worry so much about providing safety & stability for my girls that I sometimes forget that it is okay for all of us just to relax, have fun, and enjoy being a family. It's hard to balance out the needs and the wants, but I know I needed to have fun with my girls, not just be the chore-giver, the cook, or the maid. I think this is the first time, in a while, that I have relaxed enough to really enjoy being a mom. Last night, both girls were up until 930 (gasp!) and you know what? We all survived. We even made it to church on time, with an extra kiddo in tow.
Right now, big girl is at a friend's house. Little girl is sleeping. I'm writing, and managing not to whine or complain about this path we're on. I feel so blessed to love them, and have them in my home and in my heart. I pray every day that they will always know the love of the Lord, and know what a kind, merciful, loving Savior he is. I think a lot of my saying "yes" more this weekend has to do with one of our Jesus Storybook Bible stories this week. (Yes, that is where I'm getting my scripture these days, please don't judge.) Anyway, we read the story about how Jesus' disciples were trying to keep the little ones from him, saying Jesus didn't have time for them, and Jesus rebuked them, stating he always had time for the little ones. It really got me thinking if I made time for MY little ones. I have beds and food and clothes and school and homework and books and and and...but do I have TIME for them? Do we play? Laugh? Just sit and talk? Hardly ever. Loving them sometimes means saying no, but it shouldn't always be no.
So, I've said yes, and both girls seem to be enjoying it. Can I always say yes? Of course not. But can we enjoy the blessing of being together now? Yes, please. Amen and amen.
***EDIT***Sunday night we had dinner with friends (thanks, Pearsons! We loved it!). Once again, we were in bed late. MonDAY went fine. However, Monday night included epic meltdowns. We survived. But barely. My survival included crying and ice cream and prayer. It's not all great when I say yes all the time :)
I worry so much about providing safety & stability for my girls that I sometimes forget that it is okay for all of us just to relax, have fun, and enjoy being a family. It's hard to balance out the needs and the wants, but I know I needed to have fun with my girls, not just be the chore-giver, the cook, or the maid. I think this is the first time, in a while, that I have relaxed enough to really enjoy being a mom. Last night, both girls were up until 930 (gasp!) and you know what? We all survived. We even made it to church on time, with an extra kiddo in tow.
Right now, big girl is at a friend's house. Little girl is sleeping. I'm writing, and managing not to whine or complain about this path we're on. I feel so blessed to love them, and have them in my home and in my heart. I pray every day that they will always know the love of the Lord, and know what a kind, merciful, loving Savior he is. I think a lot of my saying "yes" more this weekend has to do with one of our Jesus Storybook Bible stories this week. (Yes, that is where I'm getting my scripture these days, please don't judge.) Anyway, we read the story about how Jesus' disciples were trying to keep the little ones from him, saying Jesus didn't have time for them, and Jesus rebuked them, stating he always had time for the little ones. It really got me thinking if I made time for MY little ones. I have beds and food and clothes and school and homework and books and and and...but do I have TIME for them? Do we play? Laugh? Just sit and talk? Hardly ever. Loving them sometimes means saying no, but it shouldn't always be no.
So, I've said yes, and both girls seem to be enjoying it. Can I always say yes? Of course not. But can we enjoy the blessing of being together now? Yes, please. Amen and amen.
***EDIT***Sunday night we had dinner with friends (thanks, Pearsons! We loved it!). Once again, we were in bed late. MonDAY went fine. However, Monday night included epic meltdowns. We survived. But barely. My survival included crying and ice cream and prayer. It's not all great when I say yes all the time :)
Friday, February 11, 2011
Adjusting
I've been a mom for nearly two months, and a mom to two for 6 weeks. I think MY adjustment time is about over. I'm now used to not sleeping through the night, to sharing my time and my space almost all the time, to making chicken nuggets about once a week for dinner, and all sorts of other adjustments. The girls are still adjusting...how to have a sister, how to share space, how to live with someone who's not your mom...you know, the usual stuff.
I am learning that I am not as "full of grace" as I see my mom or other moms being. I don't have infinite patience. Sometimes, my girls annoy me, and it hurts me to admit that. I often think I spend too much time with one girl, then feel guilty and overcompensate.
Today the big one is home sick, and because I rarely remember being sick as a kid, I am not so good at nurturing. I am good at nurturing spirits and friendships and plants, but sick kids, not so much. She is whiny, needy, and a little defiant. She doesn't listen to reason when I tell her what she needs is sleep and fluids. She thinks she needs unlimited attention and movies; thinks moaning and yelling her complaints will help her feel better, apparently. As I said, I lack grace in this situation.
I lack grace, period. That's my struggle. I know how my much girls need, and how much they need from me, and I am distinctly aware of how much I NEED Jesus. I need Jesus in my everyday life, I need Jesus in my interactions with my girls, I need Jesus in my impatience and overwhelmed-ness.
Pray for all of us! Be near, Lord Jesus!
I am learning that I am not as "full of grace" as I see my mom or other moms being. I don't have infinite patience. Sometimes, my girls annoy me, and it hurts me to admit that. I often think I spend too much time with one girl, then feel guilty and overcompensate.
Today the big one is home sick, and because I rarely remember being sick as a kid, I am not so good at nurturing. I am good at nurturing spirits and friendships and plants, but sick kids, not so much. She is whiny, needy, and a little defiant. She doesn't listen to reason when I tell her what she needs is sleep and fluids. She thinks she needs unlimited attention and movies; thinks moaning and yelling her complaints will help her feel better, apparently. As I said, I lack grace in this situation.
I lack grace, period. That's my struggle. I know how my much girls need, and how much they need from me, and I am distinctly aware of how much I NEED Jesus. I need Jesus in my everyday life, I need Jesus in my interactions with my girls, I need Jesus in my impatience and overwhelmed-ness.
Pray for all of us! Be near, Lord Jesus!
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Being a mom is hard.
There. I said it. I always knew being a mom was challenging, but I never expected it to be like this. What do you do when your kids act like they hate you? Well, hate is a strong word, I guess it's more indifference than hate. And that's just one. The other one loves me most of the time, except when she's scared of me. What's up with that? And the eye rolling. When do they learn that? Is there a class at school or something?
And, mom friends, how do you ever carry on a conversation? I have not mastered that yet. Seems like every time I want to talk to someone I am distracted beyond belief by something one of them is doing. Is this a something that I am completely oblivious to? Do all moms struggle to put sentences together?
Plus, I'm constantly tired. I could fall over into a nap at any given moment. Most moms I know also suffer from this "need a nap syndrome," so at least THAT feels normal.
I keep reminding myself that there is enough grace for all of this. There is grace for me, and for my girls. There is great love from my friends and family. I can take a deep breath, remember I am new at this, and keep moving forward. I can put my kids to bed thirty minutes early and have ice cream, because, well, I'm the mom.
And, mom friends, how do you ever carry on a conversation? I have not mastered that yet. Seems like every time I want to talk to someone I am distracted beyond belief by something one of them is doing. Is this a something that I am completely oblivious to? Do all moms struggle to put sentences together?
Plus, I'm constantly tired. I could fall over into a nap at any given moment. Most moms I know also suffer from this "need a nap syndrome," so at least THAT feels normal.
I keep reminding myself that there is enough grace for all of this. There is grace for me, and for my girls. There is great love from my friends and family. I can take a deep breath, remember I am new at this, and keep moving forward. I can put my kids to bed thirty minutes early and have ice cream, because, well, I'm the mom.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Three Weeks, Almost
So, there was a court date today and I should learn soon if/when the baby is going home to her mom. I had one person tell me that it is possible she could go home any day. It makes my heart hurt, thinking about it, but I've been praying that God would just reach down into the mom's life, and the baby's life, and give them security, safety, and peace. I so hope that there isn't a day they don't know the Lord. We pray for mom every night, and I have to really check my heart to know that I am really praying for her, and not just for me.
I know I have so many people praying for us, loving on us, both near and far. i know that love and those prayers are what is sustaining me on this roller coaster ride.
Lately, as I've picked her up from school, I tell her I love her "to the moon and back" and now, when I tell her I love her, she says "love you and back." Talk about melting my heart. I so wish you could see pictures to know how beautiful she is, but let me tell you, you just wouldn't believe her preciousness!
And, this new mama is out...going to sleep for a few hours before the (nearly) inevitable middle of the night wake up call.
Happy New Year!
I know I have so many people praying for us, loving on us, both near and far. i know that love and those prayers are what is sustaining me on this roller coaster ride.
Lately, as I've picked her up from school, I tell her I love her "to the moon and back" and now, when I tell her I love her, she says "love you and back." Talk about melting my heart. I so wish you could see pictures to know how beautiful she is, but let me tell you, you just wouldn't believe her preciousness!
And, this new mama is out...going to sleep for a few hours before the (nearly) inevitable middle of the night wake up call.
Happy New Year!
Monday, December 20, 2010
One week
It's amazing how much things can change in one week. I can be really productive from 830 to midnight. I can also be surprisingly useful from 6 to 7 in the morning. Suddenly, it makes sense why I cannot remember ever seeing my mom asleep.
I am in love. Big time love. Heart-wrenching, gut-dropping love. I tell everyone her hugs are so sweet they're like candy. I cannot get enough of them. At work today, when I closed my eyes I saw her face. I missed her like crazy. She goes to see her mom for the first time tomorrow and I'm trying not to be anxious. I pray for mom, and for the babe entrusted to me, for however long.
And that's about it from this new mama. Being almost 38 with a young kiddo is a good reminder of why our child-bearing years are early in life. But I wouldn't trade a minute...except maybe for the screaming tantrums. But that's it. Promise.
I am in love. Big time love. Heart-wrenching, gut-dropping love. I tell everyone her hugs are so sweet they're like candy. I cannot get enough of them. At work today, when I closed my eyes I saw her face. I missed her like crazy. She goes to see her mom for the first time tomorrow and I'm trying not to be anxious. I pray for mom, and for the babe entrusted to me, for however long.
And that's about it from this new mama. Being almost 38 with a young kiddo is a good reminder of why our child-bearing years are early in life. But I wouldn't trade a minute...except maybe for the screaming tantrums. But that's it. Promise.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Ready
I am ready for a new chapter in my life to start. I am ready to live for someone else and not just for myself. I am ready for God to use me to make a life brighter. I am ready.
Or so I think. I am thinking about tomorrow, meeting with the woman who's doing my home study. Will she think I'm ready? Is my house ready? Is the kid's room ready? Am I emotionally/physically/fiscally prepared for the change that could be coming my way?
Am I ready to wait, and wait some more? Am I ready to know how badly we humans really treat one another? Am I ready to love the way a hurt child needs to be loved? Am I ready to let that child go, and in the process, have my heart shattered? Am I?
Those are my questions and my prayers as I head to bed tonight. I know what I am able to do and who I am able to be is perfectly orchestrated by God, but it's SO hard to turn off all the questions and the doubts, and to quiet the stubborn, insufficient places within me.
This is my prayer tonight: God, you are so good. you give us all that we need to take each breath. You are a good, loving, generous Father, who gives to us in abundance. Lord, do not let me rest on that abundance. Do not let me stagnate in my own insecurities. Father. let me trust you now, and every day, that you lead me down paths that are good for me and glorifying to you. Thank you, Lord, for your hand guiding me to this point. Thank you for sweet, loving friends who have supported me on this journey. Thank you, without measure, for the perfect life and gruesome death of your Son, which allow me to stand before you and continue to ask for more than I deserve. Lord, give me grace on this journey. Let me show some sliver of your light to Chris, who will be conducting my home study. Let me love the children you place in my care. Help me to gently and genuinely pray for their families, that even while their kids are with me, you would knit them back together and make them whole, through your Son. Lord, let me love the way you love. Let me pour into these little lives the same kind of sacrificial love you have poured into me. Lord, show me again and again that the right path is almost never the easiest path. Move in me, Lord, so that I may love these kids until it hurts me, so that their hearts and bodies and lives can heal. And I pray, Lord, that these kids and their families would run to You and cling to You as the one who provides more than we can ever ask. Lord, may it be true, now more than ever, that I cannot make things worse. Amen.
I think I'm ready.
Or so I think. I am thinking about tomorrow, meeting with the woman who's doing my home study. Will she think I'm ready? Is my house ready? Is the kid's room ready? Am I emotionally/physically/fiscally prepared for the change that could be coming my way?
Am I ready to wait, and wait some more? Am I ready to know how badly we humans really treat one another? Am I ready to love the way a hurt child needs to be loved? Am I ready to let that child go, and in the process, have my heart shattered? Am I?
Those are my questions and my prayers as I head to bed tonight. I know what I am able to do and who I am able to be is perfectly orchestrated by God, but it's SO hard to turn off all the questions and the doubts, and to quiet the stubborn, insufficient places within me.
This is my prayer tonight: God, you are so good. you give us all that we need to take each breath. You are a good, loving, generous Father, who gives to us in abundance. Lord, do not let me rest on that abundance. Do not let me stagnate in my own insecurities. Father. let me trust you now, and every day, that you lead me down paths that are good for me and glorifying to you. Thank you, Lord, for your hand guiding me to this point. Thank you for sweet, loving friends who have supported me on this journey. Thank you, without measure, for the perfect life and gruesome death of your Son, which allow me to stand before you and continue to ask for more than I deserve. Lord, give me grace on this journey. Let me show some sliver of your light to Chris, who will be conducting my home study. Let me love the children you place in my care. Help me to gently and genuinely pray for their families, that even while their kids are with me, you would knit them back together and make them whole, through your Son. Lord, let me love the way you love. Let me pour into these little lives the same kind of sacrificial love you have poured into me. Lord, show me again and again that the right path is almost never the easiest path. Move in me, Lord, so that I may love these kids until it hurts me, so that their hearts and bodies and lives can heal. And I pray, Lord, that these kids and their families would run to You and cling to You as the one who provides more than we can ever ask. Lord, may it be true, now more than ever, that I cannot make things worse. Amen.
I think I'm ready.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Today, waiting, and more joy.
I sit here, looking out over my Saturday, contemplating the "need to do" and "want to do" lists, wondering if there is any way to merge them and still enjoy the day. I am so selfish with my time, I want to hold onto it, ride the last minute of it until it's gone. Even then, sometimes, I manage to feel sad about its departure, like there should just be more time. I am prayerful this morning. I want to make this day something memorable, not just another in a string of things to do and places to be. I pray for discipline to do the things I think I should do in order to truly enjoy the things I want to do. Ah, the conundrum. Because, really, I could stay in my pajamas all day, drinking coffee, watching movies, and fritter the whole day away. If I do that, though, I'll be mad tomorrow, and frustrated when I start the day on Monday. This past week was such a joy, I don't know if I want to risk ruining Monday from here, the start of Saturday.
I feel like I am constantly waiting these days. Apparently having something "out there" that I really want creates anticipation I could not have imagined. Even as I wait, I ponder how much harder it is going to be than I think. Once, I told my pastor that the reason I wanted to be married and have kids was so that I could see grace up close and personal. I wanted to know the heaviness of loving someone so much that I would do anything for them, move mountains if I had to, and think, in the same thought, of how much they need and how hard it is. I know that's not grace in the classic sense, but I hope you can see what I mean. What's the saying? God loves you the way you are, but too much to let you stay that way. That's the gist, the future I see. Loving whole-heartedly, knowing that it is going to be a tough road.
Last week was full of good days. I had the one year anniversary of my doc telling me I was cancer free. I was told my home study could be scheduled (I still haven't heard anything. I was told they had 7-10 days to schedule it, so--no surprise--I'm waiting). I feel like my interactions were fruitful and true, definitely God-ordained. I got to visit a friend with a new cancer diagnosis, to hear his heart and how God is working in him during this scary time. I spent one day with my awesome niece, just the two of us. Then, Friday night, 3 big kids came over to my house and we played volleyball, ordered pizza, and watched movies. Nothing huge, but fun all the same. Oh, and we laughed. We laughed when John said the same funny thing over & over. We laughed when we chased Kristina across the field, we laughed when Lori tried to roll the ball up her leg but ended up kicking it. I hadn't laughed so much in a very long time. I mean, full on, bent over, laughing so hard I couldn't breathe laughing. Amazing. God given. Love. And when pizza time came, I asked the kids to talk about one way they'd seen God move during that day, and the typical things came up, weather, surprise breaks, people being nice when the didn't have to, and (not from me) the laughter. It was a good day!
I guess that's what I want more of. Days that stand out, and then blend in, because of the joy that is contained therein. (Did I just steal that from someone? Maybe. I'll just say that I liked it and it sounded good.)
Here's to more joy.
I feel like I am constantly waiting these days. Apparently having something "out there" that I really want creates anticipation I could not have imagined. Even as I wait, I ponder how much harder it is going to be than I think. Once, I told my pastor that the reason I wanted to be married and have kids was so that I could see grace up close and personal. I wanted to know the heaviness of loving someone so much that I would do anything for them, move mountains if I had to, and think, in the same thought, of how much they need and how hard it is. I know that's not grace in the classic sense, but I hope you can see what I mean. What's the saying? God loves you the way you are, but too much to let you stay that way. That's the gist, the future I see. Loving whole-heartedly, knowing that it is going to be a tough road.
Last week was full of good days. I had the one year anniversary of my doc telling me I was cancer free. I was told my home study could be scheduled (I still haven't heard anything. I was told they had 7-10 days to schedule it, so--no surprise--I'm waiting). I feel like my interactions were fruitful and true, definitely God-ordained. I got to visit a friend with a new cancer diagnosis, to hear his heart and how God is working in him during this scary time. I spent one day with my awesome niece, just the two of us. Then, Friday night, 3 big kids came over to my house and we played volleyball, ordered pizza, and watched movies. Nothing huge, but fun all the same. Oh, and we laughed. We laughed when John said the same funny thing over & over. We laughed when we chased Kristina across the field, we laughed when Lori tried to roll the ball up her leg but ended up kicking it. I hadn't laughed so much in a very long time. I mean, full on, bent over, laughing so hard I couldn't breathe laughing. Amazing. God given. Love. And when pizza time came, I asked the kids to talk about one way they'd seen God move during that day, and the typical things came up, weather, surprise breaks, people being nice when the didn't have to, and (not from me) the laughter. It was a good day!
I guess that's what I want more of. Days that stand out, and then blend in, because of the joy that is contained therein. (Did I just steal that from someone? Maybe. I'll just say that I liked it and it sounded good.)
Here's to more joy.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Fragments & such
I have started writing lots of things lately, but haven't had time to finish any of them. More accurately, I haven't had the presence of mind to finish things. I will start, get a few sentences in, then my mind will scatter. Don't worry if I can't finish this post, at least you'll get some of the craziness wandering my head.
Work is fine. Not uber-challenging, but a good balance for all the other stuff going on. Do you know I have to have a full FBI background check, a fire inspection, a TB test, psychotropic med. training and about a hundred other minute details BEFORE CPS will schedule someone to come do a home study? I know that now. For some reason I thought that I could accomplish the bazillion things I needed to do in a short time. Ummm...not so much. It took me a month to get all the minutia accomplished. Today, my caseworker FINALLY told me that she had everything she needed to contact the company in charge of home studies to let them know they could start the process. Alleluia!
It seems I have been obsessed with this whole foster care/adoption thing, but there have been other things going on. Kari & Ryan tied the knot a couple of weeks back. Their wedding was beautiful and amazing and sweet. Plus, I got to meet a lot of their friends & family. There was a lot to do & Kari had a plan to get it all done. All we had to was execute :) We did, and at the end of all the fun, I was tired. Fortunately I'd had the foresight to take an extra day off work after the wedding and spent the day cleaning house & working on my yard. That may have been the best day of work I'd had in a long time.
Just before the wedding, I went to Houston to have my quarterly check-up with my oncologist. It was not a good start to the week because due to some changes at my job, my insurance had changed and I didn't have coverage. I was so frustrated! I think it's the first time I'd ever been so angry that I cried. That frustration was like a new friend. We did everything together for a couple of days, until I realized the new friend was making me different in every other area of my life. Instead of focusing on the anger & frustration, I realized that the issue was going to be resolved somehow and I let go of the anger & frustration. I did let it taint a few days, but after that, I've tried to find a way to be positive. One thing I'm positive about--being without insurance is a bad idea.
Now all of the insurance stuff is worked out, I am going back to the doctor in the morning. As of today, I am ONE YEAR CANCER FREE! I can't wait to see my doctor tomorrow and have her tell me my visits can spread out a bit, maybe to only twice a year. I may be a bit over-optimistic, but I'm okay like that.
I have all sorts of friends struggling with stuff, and am never at a lack for things to pray about. One of the constant things in my heart is that I want to love any kids placed in my care, and their families. Pray that God would move mightily to change hearts & actions so that families can be reunited safely. Sometimes my heart overflows with hope, and sometimes despair. In spite of my lack, I lay everything in the hands of my Father, who can, and does, care about this roller coaster ride we call life.
Work is fine. Not uber-challenging, but a good balance for all the other stuff going on. Do you know I have to have a full FBI background check, a fire inspection, a TB test, psychotropic med. training and about a hundred other minute details BEFORE CPS will schedule someone to come do a home study? I know that now. For some reason I thought that I could accomplish the bazillion things I needed to do in a short time. Ummm...not so much. It took me a month to get all the minutia accomplished. Today, my caseworker FINALLY told me that she had everything she needed to contact the company in charge of home studies to let them know they could start the process. Alleluia!
It seems I have been obsessed with this whole foster care/adoption thing, but there have been other things going on. Kari & Ryan tied the knot a couple of weeks back. Their wedding was beautiful and amazing and sweet. Plus, I got to meet a lot of their friends & family. There was a lot to do & Kari had a plan to get it all done. All we had to was execute :) We did, and at the end of all the fun, I was tired. Fortunately I'd had the foresight to take an extra day off work after the wedding and spent the day cleaning house & working on my yard. That may have been the best day of work I'd had in a long time.
Just before the wedding, I went to Houston to have my quarterly check-up with my oncologist. It was not a good start to the week because due to some changes at my job, my insurance had changed and I didn't have coverage. I was so frustrated! I think it's the first time I'd ever been so angry that I cried. That frustration was like a new friend. We did everything together for a couple of days, until I realized the new friend was making me different in every other area of my life. Instead of focusing on the anger & frustration, I realized that the issue was going to be resolved somehow and I let go of the anger & frustration. I did let it taint a few days, but after that, I've tried to find a way to be positive. One thing I'm positive about--being without insurance is a bad idea.
Now all of the insurance stuff is worked out, I am going back to the doctor in the morning. As of today, I am ONE YEAR CANCER FREE! I can't wait to see my doctor tomorrow and have her tell me my visits can spread out a bit, maybe to only twice a year. I may be a bit over-optimistic, but I'm okay like that.
I have all sorts of friends struggling with stuff, and am never at a lack for things to pray about. One of the constant things in my heart is that I want to love any kids placed in my care, and their families. Pray that God would move mightily to change hearts & actions so that families can be reunited safely. Sometimes my heart overflows with hope, and sometimes despair. In spite of my lack, I lay everything in the hands of my Father, who can, and does, care about this roller coaster ride we call life.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Training
Did I mention in my last post that I am taking training classes through Child Protective Services in order to get licensed to foster and adopt? I haven't been in classes in a L-O-N-G time, and evening classes, in particular, are tough for me. This isn't new. I dreaded night classes when I was in college, way back in the day, but adding evening classes to a full work day is a new level of tired. I guess it's good real life training for me....nothing like total exhaustion when there's a new kiddo in the house, or so I've heard. You parents will have to verify that for me :)
Most of the classes have been unsurprising. People struggle. The world is devastated by sin, and that sin takes effect in a multitude of ways, and many, many suffer without hope. I am not new to hearing/seeing/living how sin affects our lives--in very real and painful ways. Throughout the training classes, I have been able to cope fairly well, not shocked by the sins adults perpetrate on kids, and I have been able to pray for both the adults and the kids involved in foster care. God has given me grace to see that He alone is sufficient to heal all wounds.
Tonight was different. Tonight we talked about sexual abuse. Somehow, this has undone me and my calm facade. I am deeply angry at adults who think it is in any way acceptable to ruin a child's life in this way. I am heartbroken for the kids (some in adult bodies) whose lives need so much healing, and whose lives scream for the Lord and His presence.
That's it. I'm broken. And to think I thought the tough part of being a parent to these hurt kids would be the financial part. Please, Lord help us all. Amen.
Most of the classes have been unsurprising. People struggle. The world is devastated by sin, and that sin takes effect in a multitude of ways, and many, many suffer without hope. I am not new to hearing/seeing/living how sin affects our lives--in very real and painful ways. Throughout the training classes, I have been able to cope fairly well, not shocked by the sins adults perpetrate on kids, and I have been able to pray for both the adults and the kids involved in foster care. God has given me grace to see that He alone is sufficient to heal all wounds.
Tonight was different. Tonight we talked about sexual abuse. Somehow, this has undone me and my calm facade. I am deeply angry at adults who think it is in any way acceptable to ruin a child's life in this way. I am heartbroken for the kids (some in adult bodies) whose lives need so much healing, and whose lives scream for the Lord and His presence.
That's it. I'm broken. And to think I thought the tough part of being a parent to these hurt kids would be the financial part. Please, Lord help us all. Amen.
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Well.
I helped run a garage sale this past weekend at my church in Waco. All the funds we raised go straight to my friend, Heather, who is adopting her son Eli from Ethiopia. There were so many amazing folks over the course of two days who donated, organized, brought snacks, and purchased/donated to help bring Eli home. It was incredible!
The second day of the garage sale was 9/11, a typically very sad day for me. It was such a blessing to be working, feeling like I was making a positive difference instead of dwelling on loss. At the end of the day, though, my mom called to check in with me. It was bittersweet to hear her voice, hearing her concern for me mingled with the grief of having lost a son. It is a grief I cannot imagine, but I think I will be able to soon enough.
I am in the middle of training to become licensed as a foster/adoptive parent. It is a daunting process, and the state of Texas really wants to know everything about me. I never knew how much there was to know about myself, to tell you the truth. I have been praying, asking God to prepare me, my heart, and my home. I have a great support system, just waiting for me to ask for what I need. I promise, I will have needs as I move forward in this, and I'll try to share them as much as I am able.
Heather sold T-shirts at the garage sale over the weekend. Written on them, in English and Amharic, is the phrase, "Love Without Borders." I know this is how God loves me, and I pray it is the way I will love the kids who come home to me. God is awesome, and even if a sliver of that kind of love goes to a needy child in my care, all of this striving will have been worth it.
The second day of the garage sale was 9/11, a typically very sad day for me. It was such a blessing to be working, feeling like I was making a positive difference instead of dwelling on loss. At the end of the day, though, my mom called to check in with me. It was bittersweet to hear her voice, hearing her concern for me mingled with the grief of having lost a son. It is a grief I cannot imagine, but I think I will be able to soon enough.
I am in the middle of training to become licensed as a foster/adoptive parent. It is a daunting process, and the state of Texas really wants to know everything about me. I never knew how much there was to know about myself, to tell you the truth. I have been praying, asking God to prepare me, my heart, and my home. I have a great support system, just waiting for me to ask for what I need. I promise, I will have needs as I move forward in this, and I'll try to share them as much as I am able.
Heather sold T-shirts at the garage sale over the weekend. Written on them, in English and Amharic, is the phrase, "Love Without Borders." I know this is how God loves me, and I pray it is the way I will love the kids who come home to me. God is awesome, and even if a sliver of that kind of love goes to a needy child in my care, all of this striving will have been worth it.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
63
God is in the details. I have heard it often, and I do believe it. Last night, I was talking with some friends about coincidence--or rather--the lack of coincidence. I truly believe that everything that might be considered a coincidence is actually orchestrated by God to reveal his mercy and his glory.
For example, when my family gathers at my parents' house for big "lake" weekends, we are often privileged to see a bald eagle or two flying overhead. There are a couple of bald eagles that nest near mom & dad's house, so it is not so surprising that one might occasionally make an appearance. However, in the nearly 9 years since my brother, Randy, was lost to the 9/11 terrorist attacks in New York, the appearance of one of the eagles has taken on special significance. Boiled down, though, the sight of that bald eagle is a reminder to my family that God has neither forgotten us nor forsaken us. Though we miss Randy all of the time, his absence is felt most profoundly at those family gatherings. At those times, Randy would be a boat-driver, water-ski teacher, and all around good uncle, son, husband, brother, dad, and friend. He was ALWAYS at the lake to have a good time with his family. If there was fun to be had, he was in. For the past nine years, I don't think I'm alone in wondering how life would be different if Randy were still alive. It is hard to fathom, as the years since 9/11 have shaped who we are, what we consider important, and how we love. When that bald eagle flies, I think we take a moment to pause on how the passing years have shaped us, and how God has used real tragedy to mold us and shape us into loving him, and each other, more. I can't speak for the rest of my family, but an eagle's appearance also causes me to pause to consider God's mercies on us during that horrible time, and in the years that have passed since then. Do I think it's a coincidence that an eagle flies when we're together? Clearly not.
Another example, then I'll get to my point, I promise. My brother-in-law, Brent, died a few years back. It was horrible. Lots of lives were, and still are, affected by his passing. My sister, Judy, once told me a story of how she finds quarters when there is something she is really concerned about, or just can't figure out. The odd thing about quarters, though, is that Brent collected them. As she would worry and pray, and she'd find a quarter, she started to realize she was not alone in her fear or her anxiety. Now, to be clear, I don't think Brent had left quarters around just for Judy to find. I also don't think God put quarters in Judy's path to freak her out. I DO think that God put Judy on a path to solving problems, and those quarters were just good reminders that she was not alone, in spite of the circumstances she was in. Oh, yes, God is in those kinds of details.
This brings me to my point. Today was a sweet day. I've been involved in a church plant here in my hometown for a couple of years. We have met in homes, prayed, and trusted the Lord to build his church here. We have prayed for this city, that God would make clear that we were in the right place to do his work. As the reality of having worship here in my hometown grew nearer, we also worked on the details, things like, where would we worship? who would be in charge of music? of the nursery? how would we be intentional about welcoming folks we did not already know? and on and on. Well, this morning was it...our first service (technically, a practice. We wanted a few weeks to work out any hiccups). We each had a job, a part to play in setting up for worship. We were ready, or so we thought. As we got nearer and nearer to the beginning of worship time, I kept seeing more and more people. How could it be that almost everyone I'd met in a two-year journey to becoming a "real" church was present? There were people I'd met years ago, and more who were newer to the church. There were even a few strangers thrown in the mix for good measure. With four weeks to go before the "public" launch of our church, this first morning was shaping up nicely.
God was in that room, heard our confession, our prayers, our song, and, I pray, our worship of the one who made it all possible. During the sermon, my friend leaned up to me with something underlined in his bulletin. "I counted sixty-three folks," he said, then leaned back. I smiled, because I got it. He leaned forward a few minutes later and asked, "You see why that's a big deal, right? Look." David was preaching from Psalm 63.
Do I think there's something special in that number? Not normally. Do I see God using the details in this--and every--day to reveal who he is to us? Absolutely.
PS-I talk about my church a lot. If you want to know more about it than my random drivel, go here.
For example, when my family gathers at my parents' house for big "lake" weekends, we are often privileged to see a bald eagle or two flying overhead. There are a couple of bald eagles that nest near mom & dad's house, so it is not so surprising that one might occasionally make an appearance. However, in the nearly 9 years since my brother, Randy, was lost to the 9/11 terrorist attacks in New York, the appearance of one of the eagles has taken on special significance. Boiled down, though, the sight of that bald eagle is a reminder to my family that God has neither forgotten us nor forsaken us. Though we miss Randy all of the time, his absence is felt most profoundly at those family gatherings. At those times, Randy would be a boat-driver, water-ski teacher, and all around good uncle, son, husband, brother, dad, and friend. He was ALWAYS at the lake to have a good time with his family. If there was fun to be had, he was in. For the past nine years, I don't think I'm alone in wondering how life would be different if Randy were still alive. It is hard to fathom, as the years since 9/11 have shaped who we are, what we consider important, and how we love. When that bald eagle flies, I think we take a moment to pause on how the passing years have shaped us, and how God has used real tragedy to mold us and shape us into loving him, and each other, more. I can't speak for the rest of my family, but an eagle's appearance also causes me to pause to consider God's mercies on us during that horrible time, and in the years that have passed since then. Do I think it's a coincidence that an eagle flies when we're together? Clearly not.
Another example, then I'll get to my point, I promise. My brother-in-law, Brent, died a few years back. It was horrible. Lots of lives were, and still are, affected by his passing. My sister, Judy, once told me a story of how she finds quarters when there is something she is really concerned about, or just can't figure out. The odd thing about quarters, though, is that Brent collected them. As she would worry and pray, and she'd find a quarter, she started to realize she was not alone in her fear or her anxiety. Now, to be clear, I don't think Brent had left quarters around just for Judy to find. I also don't think God put quarters in Judy's path to freak her out. I DO think that God put Judy on a path to solving problems, and those quarters were just good reminders that she was not alone, in spite of the circumstances she was in. Oh, yes, God is in those kinds of details.
This brings me to my point. Today was a sweet day. I've been involved in a church plant here in my hometown for a couple of years. We have met in homes, prayed, and trusted the Lord to build his church here. We have prayed for this city, that God would make clear that we were in the right place to do his work. As the reality of having worship here in my hometown grew nearer, we also worked on the details, things like, where would we worship? who would be in charge of music? of the nursery? how would we be intentional about welcoming folks we did not already know? and on and on. Well, this morning was it...our first service (technically, a practice. We wanted a few weeks to work out any hiccups). We each had a job, a part to play in setting up for worship. We were ready, or so we thought. As we got nearer and nearer to the beginning of worship time, I kept seeing more and more people. How could it be that almost everyone I'd met in a two-year journey to becoming a "real" church was present? There were people I'd met years ago, and more who were newer to the church. There were even a few strangers thrown in the mix for good measure. With four weeks to go before the "public" launch of our church, this first morning was shaping up nicely.
God was in that room, heard our confession, our prayers, our song, and, I pray, our worship of the one who made it all possible. During the sermon, my friend leaned up to me with something underlined in his bulletin. "I counted sixty-three folks," he said, then leaned back. I smiled, because I got it. He leaned forward a few minutes later and asked, "You see why that's a big deal, right? Look." David was preaching from Psalm 63.
Do I think there's something special in that number? Not normally. Do I see God using the details in this--and every--day to reveal who he is to us? Absolutely.
PS-I talk about my church a lot. If you want to know more about it than my random drivel, go here.
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