Summit 9

If you are friends with my devastatingly handsome husband on Facebook (or follow him on twitter) then you have surely noticed a number of recent posts regarding orphan care.

A fire has been lit in his soul unlike any other time I can remember in our 11.5 years of marriage.  It has been glorious to watch.  Although, if I am honest I waver a little between wanting-to-fan-that-flame and freaking-out-a-little-bit-about-where-this-will-take-us.

I will say this, when God lights a fire - the brilliance is amazing.  There is a radiant confidence in Brad that is contagious.  Call him and ask him about it.  You won't be able to help but smile.  So even though my steps feel a little wavering, his confidence in God's leading helps steady me.  I am so grateful to be able to walk alongside him in this adventure of our life.  And my prayer life is growing by leaps and bounds. 

If you aren't on Facebook and you think twitter is annoying, then I should probably fill you in a bit.  Obviously you know our boys came this way through adoption from foster care.  We are certain God arranged the whole thing from start to finish.  In the glorious way that only our Creative God can, He softened our hearts to the greater need.  Every set back in our journey, reminded me that there are SO MANY MORE children that are stuck in the tangled-up-mess of foster care... and then I was reminded that our foster care system is so great in comparison to what children outside of the US are dealing with.  It was never our journey alone.

My heart hurt for so many other children so many times.  But, then again, I cry at every episode of Biggest Loser, so I had no idea that God was actually planting seeds with those tears I cried for those children.  Those children that are orphans.  Its actually hard for me to use that word, because it seems so lonely.  So far off.

And there's that verse, that so-familiar, but often-rushed-over verse:

"Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world."  

James 1:27

After wrestling through the ups and downs and in-betweens of bringing twin toddlers into our family, we have settled in to our new rhythm.  God's redemption work has been evident all the way around and continues to amaze us often.  We are even able to go on date night at church almost every chance we get.  There was a time last year that I really wondered if we'd ever get to go on dates regularly again.  In February, part of our date night led us to Lifeway (following an equally romantic spell in Bed Bath & Beyond).  Brad found a book called, "Orphan Justice : Caring for Orphans beyond Adopting".  He bought it.  He devoured it.

I think its safe to say our adoption journey was the kindling, this book was the flint, and the Holy Spirit doused the whole thing with lighter fluid.  Repeatedly.

So the very next date night we sat dreaming in Panera Bread for a few hours.  Short term goals.  Long term goals.  Crazy-only-God dreams. It was glorious.  I am sure a few people around us were wondering what-on-earth-was-up with us and all-the-smiling. 

So now we need to start.  We have already, in some little ways.  We are organizing some donations for our local foster care office (you will hear more about that, promise). Brad met with our Bible study leader a few weeks ago and he will be teaching our Bible Study class the week after Easter.

We feel way over our heads in so many ways - which is really, truly the best way to begin a journey that God is leading - even if it is a little freaky.  God-freaky is always awesome.

We are getting acquainted with Orphan Care resources and reading, reading, reading all that we can.  We recently found out about Summit 9 which is a conference that covers all the bases when it comes to orphan care.  We've thought about trying to get there even though it is kind of short notice to plan for the childcare.  I don't know about Brad, but I have wondered if we are even the right demographic... we aren't part of any organizations as of yet, and we don't even have an orphan care ministry at our church yet. Then Brad sent me a link about a Summit Blogger Conference, and I realized that maybe we do need to get there.  I can imagine that walking into a conference center with a lot of like-minded believers would do wonders on the flame-fanning and would likely help secure a foundation to help sustain those fanned-flames.  So I am writing this post as part of the Summit 9 Blogger Giveaway. Check out all the details at www.summit9.org.



Even if we don't win, I think its fair to say we are in the praying-about-making-this-happen-stage.

So that leaves me with a question for you:: if we get to go, who wants to come watch 4 really adorable, amazing boys and that one giant dog of ours?

If you have more questions about orphan care stuff; y'all, bring it!!  We could chat this stuff up all day... and then we'll stop talking and get boots on the ground.  You want in?

twin lessons

I think I can keep these short.  Lincoln & Franklin have taught me two distinct lessons over the course of the last 10 days or so.  God is so good to speak to us through our children's behavior.

First up.

I took four boys to a brand new playground a week ago Friday.  I think half of Columbus was there.  I was chasing toddlers, wrangling that free-spirited first grader, and being a tad-too-bossy to the big helper.  It was stressful because there were tons of adults along the perimeter of the playground but I was never standing still long enough to notice the children with each adult - thus leaving that sense of fear that one of the adults might be a creepy-freak.  So we were in constant motion the. whole. time.  I kept telling Lincoln & Franklin that we had to stay together because there were "so many kids."  After a final warning, Lincoln ran off as fast as his little legs would carry him (under the bridge part that is most awkward for me to follow, of course).  When I caught up to him I told him we had to leave because he ran off and there were "so many kids" that it was hard for me to watch him.  He was devastated.  Big sad tears.  He said, "sorry mommy!"  And I forgave him and gave him kisses as I buckled him into his carseat.

I decided we would grab Chick-Fil-A to bring home for dinner, so we headed that way.  Lincoln said, "sorry mommy" again, in that sad voice.  I told him again that I forgave him.  He then looked out the window and said, "so many kids."  I'm not exaggerating, we repeated this conversation at least 6 more times.  "sorry mommy"  "so many kids"  He just kept repeating it. 

He wasn't understanding that I forgave him because his circumstance wasn't changing.

How many times have I puzzled over a past mistake, bringing it up over and over to my Father because the hurt was still there?  Yes, I screwed up.  But He forgave me.  Sometimes I forget to receive that forgiveness.  Do you ever find yourself on repeat when your circumstances still reflect a bad choice?

"As far as east is from west - that’s how far God has removed our sin from us." Psalm 103:12

Second lesson.

Yesterday we took Muskoka to the groomer.  Big girl had been dealing with some seriously bad hair for weeks.  Lincoln & Franklin had never dropped Muskoka off at the groomer before, so it was all new.  When I told them we were taking her to get her hair cut, they asked if she would get the "phone" to play with {they have a special hair cut toy, reserved for hair cuts only}.  I told them that Mussy can't play with the phone.  I told them that we would leave her there to get her haircut because it takes a really long time.  I didn't want them to be surprised when we left her.  We repeated this entire conversation quite a few times before it was finally time to take her.  It was a trip trying to get the 80-pound-spaz through the door with the double stroller.  Of course, she hid behind me while we waited our turn to get checked in.  I tried to turn the stroller so Lincoln & Franklin could see some of the other dogs getting their hair cut and explained how they stand on the table. 

The groomer took Muskoka and Franklin started saying, "Watch.  Haircut.  Watch."  I told him that her haircut takes a really long time and that they would call Daddy when she was done and he'd bring her home. 
"Koka?" 
"Haircut?"
"Watch?" 
Each question was slightly more frantic than the one before.  Both boys were asking in very nervous voices.  I repeated the conversation piece from earlier in the day.  I reminded them that we had talked about it earlier and that her haircut takes a long time.  By the time they were both buckled in, I thought they understood.  As we merged on to the highway, Lincoln said, "Koka?  Haircut?"  I repeated my part.  A little further down the road, Franklin says, "Koka?  Haircut?" I repeated my part.

Now I have to tell you this...  the tenderness in their voices as they asked, kept me from getting irritated with repeating my part.  They were genuinely concerned and I was trying my best to reassure them.  Over and over again.  As many times as they needed to hear it.  They eventually both fell asleep on the way.  When I was carrying Lincoln up to his crib, he woke up and said, "Koka? Koka?"  I whispered, "Daddy will bring her home."

It didn't matter how many times I told them how things were going to unfold.  They weren't grasping it.  They were focused on what they saw happen, we left Koka.  Their little minds couldn't wrap around the idea that Daddy was going to bring her home...even though I clearly communicated that many times.

How often do I struggle with the Truth that I have heard over and over because I am focused on what I see happen right in front of me?  How often does my little mind get tripped up in that space between my reality and God's Truth because I can't figure out how the two will come together?

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding."  Proverbs 3:5

a whispered truth

I want to whisper a quiet truth to you on this Monday before Easter.  Its not meant to condemn or even convict, its meant to reassure the ones that just aren't sure.

You know, Easter is a big deal for us Jesus-followers.  Its a celebration of the culmination of all those things we believe.  Those crazy, unbelievable things that we believe with all of our heart.  We believe that Jesus - the very son of God - came from Heaven to Earth.  That He lived, breathed, and walked these dusty places as a man, perfectly.  He was sinless, spotless, loved all - and He did it well.  This week we celebrate His arrival to Jerusalem - the excitement mixed with resentment in the crowds that welcomed Him.  We remember He tried to tell His followers then some things they just could not comprehend.  He prayed and asked the Father if there might be another way, then He laid down His will for the Father's.  He was arrested.  He was beaten.  For me.  For you.  He hung on a cross before a crowd - forgiving and loving even then.  He died.  We Jesus-followers believe this to be absolutely true even though it is nearly fairy-tale-esque.  We believe He was dead.  No breath.  No life.  Really really dead.  Then He was buried.  We believe after three days that He rose from the dead.  We believe he lived, breathed, and walked these dusty places as a man again, but this time with scars.  Believing all of this with a faith that seems child-like, we celebrate this week.  On Easter we give Him glory because He gave us life.  We remember He did this for you, for me.

And the thing I want to whisper to you is simple really.

You don't need a new dress for Easter.

I don't know where this idea came from.  I'm not sure why "it's a thing" in some circles.  But I can tell you a little story about an Easter dress of mine from almost a decade ago.  I think its a story you might need to hear today.

I think it was the first Easter that I was a momma for reals.  I birthed that baby boy in the middle of summer and I guess I probably made myself fit into my fall & winter clothes well enough.  I must've checked my closet on Good Friday, because we were shopping on Saturday for an Easter dress for momma.  {Naturally, Wilson had received at least 2 outfits for Easter, maybe 3}.  No one told me I needed a new dress, I just thought I should have one.  I know we did not have the money for it.  But our credit cards were not yet maxed out, and no creditors had begun calling.  I don't remember a thing about trying on the dresses (or how many I tried on, no clue).  I remember the dress.  It was almost sleeveless.  It had flutter sleeves.  So I needed to find a sweater or jacket to wear with it.  I checked over the clearance racks and found some sort of zip-up sports-wear-like-jacket-thing in a color that worked.  I am pretty sure the dress was not on sale, so I made sure I found a cheap jacket (that was totally not the right style for the dress, but somehow in my mind I needed it).  Oh and I needed shoes.  I had no shoes to wear.  (Unlikely, but again in my mind, I needed shoes.)  I remember the shoes - criss-cross brown-wedge-sandals.

I don't remember what weekend Easter was that year and I am a little too lazy to look it up right now.  But this I know.  It was cold in Michigan that Easter.  I wore hose (aka nylons, pantyhose, old lady tights) with my new dress and my open toe wedge-heel-sandals and zip-up-sports-wear-like jacket.   It was ridiculous.  Absurd.  Probably $40+ of absurdity on a credit card we couldn't pay off.  (Oh and those sandals? They killed my feet. Awesome).

I almost missed it that year.  The glory of Jesus coming for me.  The power of Him that lived, breathed, walked these dusty places as a man.  For me.  For you.  He poured Himself out for me.  For you.  And the truth was (and is) no dress on earth would make me deserve that kind of love.  Nothing I could ever do would earn that, He gave it.  

I thought I needed to look good for Easter, but I couldn't quite grasp it; so instead I looked a little absurd and awkward.  That morning at church I knew, I needed to come and celebrate Him.  The One who rose from the grave, the One that defeated death.  He did it for me.  Not me in a pretty dress.  Me.   And He did it for you too!

So if you are considering attending a church service this weekend, and you are thinking maybe you won't because you don't think you have a dress to wear... or if you are panicking about having time to shop for your Easter outfit, because you need something new... Just let this sink in...

You don't need a new dress for Easter. 

You just need Him.  He just wants you.

“Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, believe also in Me. “In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. “If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also. “And you know the way where I am going.” Thomas said to Him, “Lord, we do not know where You are going, how do we know the way?” Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through Me.*"  John 14:1-6

*See, nothing about wearing a new dress to church on Easter in this passage.

{Just in case you are a curious, visual person like myself, here's the dress... at least I was smart enough not to wear the zip-up-sports-wear-like jacket for the photos.  I kept that dress for a sweet forever too.}

what to wear?

We are almost halfway through the clothing "fast" in our book club. I gotta say, this one is not like the food one for me. Likely because I am a stay-at-home mom and I wear a lot of the same things day after day anyway.  I am a little more deliberate about what is going into the washer, but because no one else is doing this "fast" with me here at home, the amount of laundry is nearly the same.  I think Wilson and Walker would easily be cool with wearing 7 items all the time.  Honestly, if I wash a shirt they wore yesterday, they will wear it tomorrow.  No issue.  They don't care if they wear the same thing to church each week.  I'm learning that this is actually a good thing, and I would do well to encourage them to be content with what they have (even if right now I suspect some of it is just l-a-z-y; why force them into the marketing machine?)  Lincoln & Franklin really don't care either, but I sure try hard to make sure they wear something different for church and mom's morning out each week.  I guess in a way, Brad is always limiting his clothing choices, thanks to the uniform he wears every work day. ;)

Ok.  So there are my clothing choices.  I really r-e-a-l-l-y wanted to pick all thrifted things, but to try and pick things that worked together was a little tricky.  And being tall, makes thrifting pants/jeans a challenge!  I tried to add text, but you might not be able to see it all so here's the breakdown:

1. green v-neck pocket tee (Target)
2. India Not For Sale tee (buy here).
3. Khakis (thrifted - I think they are Eddie Baur, I'm wearing them and too lazy to check)
4. Tunic Tank top/dress thing (thrifted - Rue 21, dress for the young ladies, tunic for the not-as-young)
5. Skinny Jeans (Old Navy) * I had to pick a pair I could put in the dryer, most of my jeans air dry because I have those super long thighs and I cannot allow my jeans to shrink in length.  I don't love wearing skinny jeans with t-shirts, not sure where my head when I was making these choices.
6.  Brown Sweater Cardi (thrifted - don't remember the brand and too lazy to go get it.)
7. Shoes (2 pair = 1 item, fuzzy math)

• Sseko sandals (buy here)
• Payless shoes from the Good Shoe Project (check it)

Jewelry links:
1. chunky necklace - The Apparent Project
2. set of bracelets - Pura Vida
3. + 7. green paper bead earrings + glass bead necklace -War (Women At Risk) International
4. + 5. + 6.  Multi-color paper bead necklace - blue earrings - multi-color bracelet -Bead for Life

I've been challenged about how I spend my clothing dollars.  I have a bit of a history with being a clothes-freak back in my single days.   There has been incredible growth in this category, but I still always a feel a pull to skim through the clearance racks whenever I am out shopping.

When we started budgeting, I had $7 in my clothing envelope each month.  Believe it or not, it felt amazing to have designated clothing money, even if it was only $7.  Before this, I often felt a pang of guilt over spending money on clothes.  Or I would buy one of each color of the $3 shirt on clearance, even though Stacy + Clinton hadn't clearly stated that this was a fashion no-no. With the budget in hand,  I realized it was important to spend carefully and choose things that fit me well.  For awhile, I felt it was better to buy brand new from Target (or Wal-mart {gasp!}) than buy from a thrift store for similar prices.  I still think that is true for some items and ALWAYS true for underwear and swimwear ;) I've found that you save a lot of money if you make time to try clothes on before buying.

Ok, but to the point already...while reading 7, what have I been learning?

I've started reading companies statements about their ethical & social policies.  (Here's an example.)  I've started reading labels to see where things are made.  I've realized that the money I spend DOES matter.  It is getting harder and harder to convince myself that the overseas-workers aren't my neighbors.  Those Sseko sandals?  They might be one of the happiest purchases ever.  They aren't cheap and it took me a good long time to finally commit to buying them, but I am so happy I did.  The India tee from Not For Sale was actually made in a factory in India that hires former human-trafficking victims or individuals that are at high-risk for human-trafficking.

When I think about the impact my clothing budget can make, it is mind-boggling. Buying from thrift stores is also a very "green" thing to do.  I'm sure most people don't think of it that way, but consider how many articles of clothing go in the land fill each year and suddenly thrifting seems pretty environmentally friendly.  Also, when you purchase used clothing, your dollars go further and they don't go directly to the pocket of the company with questionable practices.  Generally speaking, thrift stores often use their profits for good.  One I shop at here supports Vapor Sports, so the money I spend there goes directly to supporting their mission.  How cool, huh?

I feel like there are a bunch of different lessons springing up with this topic.  Hopefully I will find a way to put them into words over the next few days.

beans + rice + entitlement

12 days of beans + rice. 

Well, I take that back, I had pizza at Sam's Club one of those days... not really on purpose, we ordered one slice per boy... who knew 4 slices equaled one pizza?  It just seemed wrong to throw the extra away.

I learned a few things over the last 12 days.  Some meaningful, others not so much.

• I am such a lazy breakfast person.  Like seriously.  Scrambling eggs felt like I was making a four course meal.  Opening yogurt or pouring cereal is SO much easier.
• I am not very good at making apple chips.  I'd say half a batch out of 3 batches was perfect, the rest were so-so.
• I cannot for the life of me figure out how to make wheat bread rise.  But the boys loved the homemade bread, even if it was a bit on the shorty-side.
• Peeling hard boiled eggs also seems to take a sweet forever.  Might have to try to crack that code.
• My sugar addiction is worse than I imagined.  I thought about sweets a lot.  Like a lot a lot.  
•  The combo of beans + rice and way-more-eggs than normal does not make one gassy like you would think.  TMI?  
• My guys are troopers.  Especially Brad.  Poor guy had a terrible sinus infection but stuck to the beans + rice diet.   Also, Lincoln & Franklin did their best to gag down some beans each night.
• Dinner prep is so simple when you make the same thing every day.  Grocery shopping is also quite delightful when you make the same thing for dinner every night.

To clarify, none of the above were the meaningful lessons.  Well, except for maybe the part about my guys.

I wish I could say that I was super convicted about the amount of food we throw away or about how much money we waste on groceries and eating out.  It would be easier to talk about that, than the real things that were uncovered.

First off, I am a super whiny-baby.  Poor Brad.  I am pretty sure I made a statement about wanting hot cocoa or that Almond Joy every single night.  He would just remind me that I signed up for this... I think he actually said, "you made a big-girl decision, now you need to stick with it like a big-girl."

Secondly, when I considered the whiny-baby-tendency coupled with all the excess that is available to me, I realized that deep down I felt like I was entitled to a little sweet each day.  After all, I was sticking to the plan.  Didn't I deserve a treat?  Oh middle class American and the things I think I deserve.  I'm currently reading a segment from Mended by Angie Smith each morning.  The other day I read "The Tyranny of Choice."  It summed up pretty well the place I find myself.

I've been convicted and overwhelmed over the nature of my humanity and the fickleness that is bred in entitlement.  It started a long, long time ago in a garden where God gave them what was good, but they didn't think it was good enough for them.  The first man and woman felt entitled to choose what they wanted even when He told them that choice was forbidden.  They didn't need it.  They weren't entitled to everything.  He had given them everything the needed.  He had given them Himself.... 

When you expect a choice in every situation, you need to pause and consider what is driving you.  Has God given you what you need?  Are you being overwhelmed by a drive to choose from a tree He has forbidden?...

I don't need a thousand choices in this life.  I need Him. 

I'm desperate for Him, actually.

 When you are tempted to feel overwhelmed by first-world problems and choices, whisper that word under your breath until you feel your bones ache with Truth.  Him. Him. Him.  He gave Himself.

There's no time to wonder about what else He could have given you.  Every bit of it is irrelevant in light of Him.  Live a life that loves Him back.  Choose well.  He is enough.

I'm humbled and bent low.  I knew I loved sugar, I didn't realize I felt entitled to it. 

I'm also reading two other books right now {I know that's a lot of books at one time! I'm taking my time with each of them, and I don't think its a mistake that they are overlapping.}  Orphan Justice and The Circle Maker.  I think it is fair to say I am a mess. It's uncomfortable.  Parts are just plain ugly.  I'm thankful for the pruning, because I know there is no growth without it.    I can honestly say I am done predicting what He is going to tell me in this.  I just want to lean in close and listen.

The other morning, I found myself in Nehemiah, and this verse resonated:

"When I heard these words, I sat down and wept and mourned for days; and I was fasting and praying before the God of heaven."  Nehemiah 1:4

I think there is much more pruning to come.

I'm so grateful for the other ladies doing this with me.  It's been a blessing and encouragement to hear how they are being challenged too.  There were a few times where my self-talk could pretty much convince me that "this whole thing is sort of dumb and silly."  Without fail, another lady in the group would share something meaningful and get my brains back on track.

Up next?  Clothing.  Oh boy.

about the food stuff

I told you about 7: an experimental mutiny against excess in the last post.

I told you a little about how awesome the ladies are that are in the book club. (From 3 countries and at least 10 states, cool huh?)

I told you a little about how I tend to listen to the Spirit and how I see Him shifting my listening skills to be more beneficial to our relationship.

I briefly said something about the food fast.  And added that I might come back to tell you more about it.  So here I am.

For my fast, I decided I would do 12 days out of our two-week allotment.  I talked with Brad about it and we really didn't feel it would be practical as a family to try to choose only 7 foods to eat for 12 days.  We also decided that it would be a pretty bad idea for me to fast completely from a meal a day (or any other version of the-real-deal-no-eating-fast).  We also agreed that it would be absurd for me to try to make two meals at dinner - one for me to include my 7 and one for them.  In full disclosure, at this point, I thought Brad would suggest I just eat dinner like we normally do, and I was fully prepared to agree to that suggestion.  Instead, we settled on eating beans + rice for dinner as a family for 12 days.  Our version of beans + rice has onions, green peppers, and smoked sausage... and we actually eat this meal once or twice a month.  So in a way, I was let off the 7 hook a bit.  (The boys and Brad get to eat normal breakfast and lunch.  And the three youngest will get passes on the beans + rice with from-the-pantry or from-the-fridge replacements).

So this is my 7 list:

• eggs
• apples
• green pepper
• whole wheat bread
• beans + rice
• milk
• coffee

Brad still thinks I shouldn't count milk + coffee; but because my beans + rice are rather luxurious I haven't added anything different.  At least not on purpose... I have eaten about 2 chips, 5 pieces of life cereal, and I added lettuce to my egg salad sandwich today - which had just a smidge of mayo to hold the egg together.

Day 1, found me in absolute shock over how often I walk through the kitchen and pop something in my mouth.  Like all day long.  And oh my the sweets.  I miss them.  So much.  I was prepared to blame my morning headache on lack of sugar; and was awaiting body shakes and cold sweats.  Instead I just day-dreamed. A lot.

Day 3, Brad brought home an Almond Joy candy bar for me.  He forgot.  But remembered as soon as he saw the look on my face when I saw it.  After the boys were in bed, I casually mentioned, "I sure would like to eat that Almond Joy."  You know why I said that to Brad?  Because I thought he'd give me permission to just go ahead and eat it.  He more or less ignored my statement though.  He's a good man.

Day 4, [yesterday] I had a dentist appointment.  If you know me a little bit, you might know that I am not a fan of the dentist.  I blame it on my childhood visits to the dental college in Flint and that dentist downtown Flushing that was "so cheap compared to everyone else" (and also creepy.)

So more or less, not a fan.  I usually break into a sweat - I compare the dentist's chair to a tanning bad - they need to be disinfected between use due to all the sweat.  Gross, but accurate.

Back to the point.  I recently got into the habit of buying myself a reward after the dentist.  Something like a donut or a hazelnut misto from Starbuck's.  Just a little something to brighten my day after all that sweating and fist-clenching.  I whined to Brad that I wasn't going to be able to buy myself a treat after my cleaning because of 7.  He didn't say much to this either.  He's a good man.

His silence left some space for the Holy Spirit though.

I was humbled by what I learned through this.  Its almost embarrassing to share it here, because it is SO OBVIOUS.

It is a privilege to have dental insurance.  I should know this because we didn't have it when I was growing up (hence dental college visits).  My husband works hard and pays a bit out of his paycheck so I can go to the dentist.  There is such a huge number of people that would LOVE that opportunity... a quick google search just told me that there are 100 million AMERICANS that cannot afford dental insurance.  I imagine in some parts of the world it is almost incomprehensible that we pay someone to clean our teeth.  We recently watched a clip on 60 minutes about the Africa Mercy Ships and the tumors they remove because of over-grown enamel - something that doesn't occur here because a dentist would spot it and take care of it before it had a chance to grow. 

And I usually complain about it.  Like every day between when I get the post-card-reminder and when I go.  I get all pouty about it even.  Like a five year old.

Worse yet, I buy myself a TREAT afterwards.  Like a five year old.

And even worse, when I find myself in a commitment that doesn't allow for a treat - I whine about it to my husband.  As well as gripe about it internally all morning before my appointment.

The fact that I complain about a privilege is sickening.  I was comfortable complaining about it every time too.  I didn't just complain once on a bad day.  Nope, it was my habit to complain about this privilege every single time.  Could I be more like the Israelites?  (cue Chandler Bing voice)

Thankfully the Lord is full of mercy and grace.  I pray that this lesson sticks.  I do not want to be a complainer.  I don't want to find portions of my days where I give myself a "pass" to complain about _____________ (fill in the blank).  I want to be grateful.

If eating eggs, apples, green pepper, bread, beans + rice, milk & coffee for 12 days makes me a more grateful Christ-follower.  So be it.

I was led to these three verses this morning.  Each one brought encouragement in a different way.  I hope you find a bit of encouragement too.

My heart and my flesh may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.  

Psalm 73:26

But as for me, the nearness of God is my good; I have made the Lord God my refuge, that I may tell of all Your works.  

psalm 73:28

Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord.  

I Corinthians 15:57

P.S.  a few of the awesome ladies from the group are also blogging.  You can check them out by clicking their names:

Dion

Jaren

listening : best practices

As you may {or may not} know I am participating with an awesome group of ladies in an online book club.  36 ladies to be exact.  I need to map it out, because they are from all over.  Which is all kinds of awesome.

We are doing the book 7: an experimental mutiny against excess.

The book came out last year and the internets were abuzz.  I wanted to read it.  But you might remember this time last year was a bit overwhelming - you know, with the new toddler twins added to the mix.  Thankfully over time, the overwhelming has morphed into our new normal.  I had sort of forgotten a little about 7, but not really.  So when I asked the awesome ladies in my book club if we wanted to start a 2nd book, the first suggestion was 7.

So here we are.  7 is basically a look into all of your stuff.  Jen Hatmaker breaks it down into 7 categories to really spend time looking at the excess via fasting & reducing in those categories.  Jen spent 7 months, focusing on one category each month.

The premise is to reduce all of the 'things' that fill up your time/space/thoughts/etc and allow Jesus that room.  As Jen says in the introduction, "Jesus, may there be less of me and my junk and more of You and Your kingdom."  Yes, please, amen.

The first two weeks we are doing the "food fast."  Each lady in our group can choose to apply the fast in the way that makes the most sense for her.  I am blown away by the way the Spirit has led each of us.  I don't think any of us will have matching fasts.  Which is a beautiful reminder of the way God leads us always.  None of us have matching paths.  None. Of. Us.  Thank you, Jesus.

I might write more about my food choices and all the shock I am experiencing over just how often I long for some sugar.  Oh my heavens.  I think I knew this about myself, but I didn't r-e-a-l-l-y know this about myself.  You know?  But on to the listening part...

I am so excited to be clearing away some clutter so I can listen better to the Spirit.

Really listen.

The funny thing is, that I have been trying to predict the Spirit.

It actually reminds me a bit of Grandma Rose.  You must know I adore her.  She has been up in all my business for as long as I can remember.  Of course, this was super annoying when I was a teenager, but grows more endearing the older I get.  She even let my pregnant self + my potty-training-two-year-old move in with her while Brad was in basic and AIT.  {She earned so many jewels in her crown over those 8 months.}  Unfortunately for Grandma, her hearing is horrible.   She actually has complete hearing loss in one ear because of  a virus, and I think the hearing loss in her "good ear" would be labeled profound.   It complicates our long-distance relationship because we are left only being able to talk over the phone, which is difficult at best.  I would never call her during nap time because my shouting would surely wake the boys.  Sometimes I have to spell words out... and then add the "F as in Frank, I as in igloo, G as in george".  Usually it's only a few parts of the conversation that end up needing spelling + shouting to reach a place of understanding.  You know what parts?  The parts when Grandma tries to predict what I am telling her.  It gets hard straining to listen, so she tries to guess what I am saying.  Her mind starts processing what she has guessed and before you know it we are in two different places.  Its frustrating sometimes.  For both of us probably.  Our best conversations are face-to-face.  It has been a gift to get to stay at her house when we travel to the great north.  We take a few moments to sit and drink {decaf. instant} coffee and eat some of her cookies and just chat.  There are rarely misunderstandings in our face-to-face chats.  Usually there is a time or two that I have to tell her something that I don't want to the whole house to hear {think Christmas Eve}, so I have to lean in close to her good ear.  She almost always reaches a hand up to my face to pull me close - she adores a whispered word - if we're standing she'll even put an arm around me.  She doesn't want to miss it.

This is where I find myself at the beginning of 7.  Trying to predict the words the Spirit wants to tell me, jumping to conclusions as I begin processing what He *might* be saying. Maybe I get tired straining to listen, so I just guess?  Maybe I am in a rush?  All I know is that my guessing leads me away from where He is leading.  I don't want to do that.  I want to be still.  I want to sit down and soak it in. I want a face to face conversation.  Often.  I want to pull Him close so I don't miss a word.

Our Pastor said yesterday, "the key to your life is how well you listen," the bottom line is to "ACT on what you HEAR."  I needed those reminders.

My son, if you accept my words and store up my commands within you, 

turning your ear to wisdom and applying your heart to understanding, 

and if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding, 

and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure, 

then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God. 

For the Lord gives wisdom, 

and from His mouth come knowledge and understanding.  

Proverbs 2:1-6

lovely

Dear Self in Ten Years,

Do you think its cute that I thought this blog might still be around in 10 years?

I wanted to tell you something.  I realized it earlier today, and thought you should know.  I have to start with a little background information though, just in case you have made some grown-up changes in regard to your ability to schedule hair appointments.  See, right now, I do this thing.  I grow my hair a bit.  And then I chop it off a bit.  I'm not so great at keeping up with regular hair cuts, so the short hair ends up growing long.  I get comfortable with the idea that I can pull it into a pony tail, so I just get it trimmed a time or two.  Then a year goes by and I realize that I wear my hair in ponytails every. single. day.  So I decide I should just cut it off.  So I do.

And I did.  Again.

{What, self?  People snapped pictures of themselves all the time in 2013 with their iPhones, just be thankful its not in a bathroom mirror.}

This time around, as I flat iron my hair.  I've noticed some gray hair.  Just this morning, that one toward the front was being especially showy.  Its even a little wiry.  You know the ones?  Not like the kind that have shown up periodically over the years, that might've just been a super-light-same-texture-as-the-rest-of-my-hair gray hair.  No, these are the real-deal gray hairs.  And guess what, self?  I'm not mad about it.  I'm not scared of it.

The thing is, we're staring down 37, which means we're 36 right now. (We? Me? Letter writing to oneself is just asking for all kinds of grammar errors.  From here out, I'm sticking with first person, OK?  I doubt that Strunk & White has any information about this, so just quit arguing with me.) 

Basically, I've been an adult for 18 years.  Life can be divided evenly into childhood and adulthood right now. 

You might remember that this relationship with Jesus got for-really-real at 18.  You had known Him most of your life, but not very well.    18 is when you first learned that He was who He said He was - that His promises were absolutely true even in your most lonely of lonely places.  Remember, those times in the bunk bed at college, just weeping over past mistakes and heartbreak?  He was there.  He told you then that He had a good plan for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future.  You believed it.  When He sent you across the country to work at that residential school in the mountains of Southern California, you were certain He was with you.  And He was.  So when the phone call came that asked you if you'd consider being a teacher in The Gambia for a year, you knew He arranged it.  So you kissed your family good-bye and flew to Africa.  And He went before you.  He stayed with you, He comforted you when you had no other earthly friends around you.  He proved that His love was not going to fail. Not ever.  You were certain He was all you would ever need.  So when He introduced you to that man that knocked your socks off after you got back from Africa?  Well, that took you a bit to believe.  How could He have chosen such a man to be yours?  Even now this is still a marvel to you.  (I'm sure when you read this in 10 years, you'll still be amazed).  It's especially delightful to consider this on Valentine's day.  When you finally accepted that God had a gift so good in store for you, you knew the story He would write with your lives would be filled with surprises.  And He has been writing it in a surprisingly beautiful way.  Not that any of your best guesses would be anywhere close to the reality He would bless you with. 

I could probably write you paragraphs upon paragraphs about just how real Jesus has been in your life these past 18 years.  Each story would certainly have a few rabbit-trails of God's goodness and the paragraphs would multiply into chapters.  He has been so faithful in the details of the every day.  Always.  There is not enough time now to tell it all.  Let me just get to the point.

Those gray hairs.

They are evidence of life well-lived.

That is exactly what I thought today as I spied more-than-a-couple hanging around in that flat iron.  I'm certain that was an impression from God; because this world would rather I freak out about that sort of thing.  Today, I'm perfectly OK with them.

Self, I hope you are still OK with them by the time you read this -- that goes for any friends or family members that took a peek at this letter to future me today.  Keep noticing the evidence of a life well-lived... it would be a shame if everything stayed the same for years upon years. I hope that you just keep believing Jesus for all He is.  Keep letting His voice be the One that you listen for and when you hear it, obey it.  If He tells you that you are beautiful, then celebrate it.  He has good plans for you.  Plans to prosper you and not to harm you.  Plans to give you a hope and a future.  He is working them out now, each part fits together with the next. Call upon Him.  Seek Him with all of your heart, you'll find Him at every turn.  Keep celebrating the good gifts He's given.  Do not shy away from the calling in your life, do not hide the grays away.  Keep living life well.  Day by day, He will continue to carry you.

We are re-reading the Jesus Storybook Bible, this morning we read about creation.  These words are true today.  "God loved them with all of His heart.  And they were lovely because He loved them."  Believe it.  Gray hair or not - his Love makes you lovely.  Always.

embracing the evidence of a life well-lived, with love;
amanda

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."  Jeremiah 29:11-13

one thing :: mothering

I meant to write a post about my New' Year's Goal.  Like 5 weeks ago.  But you know, better late than never.  It might be that I was a little nervous about this one.  Its a humbling endeavor to invite others in to see how you are doing on a big goal.  But I figure you are a safe bunch and besides God led me to the goal, so I imagine His work will be evident.  Everyone likes a show, right?

The Sunday after Christmas we were driving across the lovely state of Michigan to celebrate Christmas one more time.  We planned on streaming our church's sermon but it wasn't cooperating, so we listened to the one from North Point Community Church (Andy Stanley's church).  Well, it turns out that their whole church shuts down on the last Sunday of the year so it was a re-play of last year's New Year's sermon.  In the sermon, Stanley suggested you focus on one thing for the New Year.  Not ten things, not five things, one thing.  As he spoke, he said, "I bet you already have an idea of what that one thing is."  And he was right.  I knew.

Mothering.

The way I mother, needs improving.  God knows it.  I know it.  My kids know it.  That was my one thing.  I wanted a word to go with it.  A focus.  One word to say in a nutshell how I'd like to view my mothering at this time next year.  This is where it gets a little embarrassing, maybe.  I thought of calm, then I thought steady, and as I pondered more, I was led to "unflappable."

That feels audacious to me.  That God could mold my mothering skill-set into something unflappable in twelve months time.  Because if I'm being honest with you, I am super flappable.  Super. Flappable.  Hello, my name is "easily flapped."  You know what I am saying?

I have a short fuse.  And two toddlers.  That combination isn't lovely very often.  Not to fear, my ugliness has been evenly distributed to each of the boys.  Bless them.  I am ever grateful for the words, "I'm sorry,"  and for their patient, forgiving hearts.  But deep in my soul, I knew this was the place where I needed to invite God in to do the work.  

I think it took me more than a week before I could admit that "unflappable" was my word.  I was still finishing reading "Unglued: Making Wise Choices in the Midst of Raw Emotions" by Lysa Terkeurst and wondering about buying "Desperate: Hope for the Mom Who Needs to Breath" by Sarah Mae + Sally Clarkson.  How do you proclaim unflappable in that place?  And God keeps reminding me, its not really about me, its really about Him.  He is faithful.  Even to the easily flapped.  He is.  Always.

He led me to the scripture in the picture above.  Its the kind of unflappable I want to be. I want to be like a tree planted by streams of water.  Nourished by roots that run deep, without fear of heat or drought.  The kind of tree that can still be green and produce fruit even in adverse circumstances. 

Not too long ago, Brad was telling us about more of Andy Stanley's podcast series for 2013's New Year called Breathing Room.  Brad was explaining "margin" to the boys and telling them how important it is to have it in your life.  I gave Walker an example of when we left a little late for his basketball game and how if we had left earlier we would've had "margin."  We wouldn't have been watching the clock all the way to the game to see if he would make it on time.  You could see that he understood the concept with that illustration.

He then looks at me, with that sweet, little face and says, "I know where you need to add margin, mom!"  

"Oh, where do you think?" I ask, rather curious.

He points his index finger up as he declares his brilliant suggestion, "Your temper!  You know because you always lose your temper!"

Ouch!  And that is when I shared "unflappable" with the boys.  And I wasn't angry about it.  Humbled, yes.  Angry, no.  It was actually pretty fun to let them in on it.  I think they were pretty happy to hear it too.

I'm certain God is going to do a great work.  As embarassing as it is to admit the work needs to be done, its at least doubly freeing to stop trying hide it.

There is nothing out of God's scope of possible.  There is not one thing that He would say, "oh, well that, no, that is a little too much to try and improve."  Not. One. Thing.

Do you have a thing?  If you didn't make a new year's goal, has this got you thinking about making one?  I'd be happy to pray with you about your one thing.  And I'd be honored if you'd pray for me throughout this year!

"Blessed is the man who trusts the Lord, and whose trust is the Lord.  For he will be like a tree planted by streams of water, that extends its roots by a stream, and will not fear when the heat comes; but its leaves will be green, and it will not be anxious in a year of drought nor cease to yield fruit." Jeremiah 17:7-8

*photo credit :: Scott Harding circa 2005, Algonquin Provincial Park

birthday boys!

Sweet, sweet boys. You are TWO! TWO! I had to say it twice because that's how shocking it is to me. The other day at Kohl's I said to your daddy, "I just wanna look at the baby clearance really quick." And he asked, "Why do you need to look at baby stuff?" I told him, just to see if there were any deals for the two of you. And you know what your daddy said to me? He said, "Well, I wouldn't call them babies!" What? I might still call you babies for awhile. Ok?

You two are just about as cute as can be for birthday boys.  You were truly delighted with your birthday shirts and banner.  The hats were a little on the annoying side - especially when the elastic got snapped - ouch!

Sweet Lincoln, you had to sneak a sample of the frosting before we could sing to you.  You are a seize-the-day kinda guy through and through.  You like to go, go, go and nine-times-out-of-ten you are thrilled with every, single, person that speaks to you.  Your laugh is contagious and you can easily get all of us laughing along with you with very little effort.  You love to give kisses to your family and toys alike... you even ask mommy & daddy to kiss some of your crib-mates.  Daddy isn't such a fan of this practice, but I don't think monkey, manatee, or your monster mind.  Your vocabulary is growing each day, especially words that name food or candy that you like.  And if we are having a hard time figuring out your new words, you say it slowly and loudly and you stare right at our faces.  You are determined.  Adorably so.

{momma has no clue what is up with the photo layout here}

You two were so cute with your cupcakes, intrigued that you both had two lit candles in front of you.  Within reach!  You did an excellent job blowing out your candles and an outstanding job eating those cupcakes!  Wilson did do some coaching alongside you.

You did really well unwrapping your presents... of course, you just had all that practice at Christmas.  Your big brothers "wrapped" your presents for you.  You didn't seem to mind the imperfections. 

Franklin, your sweetness is just pure sugar some days.  You are often "the shy one" but usually not after we tell people that.  You make some of THE funniest faces in the world.  And at just the right time.  Seriously, I think you have a great sense of humor even at age two, you seem to know just-the-right-time to say just-the-right-thing (or make just-the-right face).  You like to snuggle just a smidge more than Lincoln does and you have occasionally used this to your advantage at bed time.  Speaking of bedtime, your growing vocabulary is always evident right before bed.  You ask to "rock" or to snuggle on the "couch" or "pray" or "book" or I think last night you said, "song?"  You keep naming things until one hits the mark and pushes your bedtime back a few moments.  You are a smartie.  An adorable smartie.

I love this picture of all four of you playing with the new easel (and Mussy-ko-ko in the background).  This birthday has been so spectacular for us.  I know you won't remember a whole lot of it, but I think I am going to remember it for you.  Just a year ago, yesterday, we first met.  There were so many unknowns then.  Truthfully, the future always holds unknowns.  Thinking back to last year, I can remember so much of that day.  The excitement, the nervousness, the joy... it really isn't that different than when Wilson was born and I held him the first time.  I felt like I had no idea how to be a momma, but I was excited and nervous and joyful.  My heart grows fuller, babies, because of the blessings God has given us through the two of you.  {Yes, I said, babies!}  It has been a beautiful year of growing with you and I am thrilled to see what He has in store in the year to come.  God has answered our prayers in so many marvelous ways.  I trust He has good things in store for our family; just-right-things for us, for right-now.

"And Jesus answered saying to them:: Have faith in God.  Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, 'be taken up and cast into the sea,' and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says is going to happen, it will be granted him.  Therefore, I say to you, all things which you pray and ask, believe that you have received them, and they will be granted you."  Mark 11:22-24

the same, but different

This Christmas.

Things are different this year {IN SO MANY WAYS}. And yet, somehow the same.

Our family has grown by two!  After such a long, long wait. 

Last November, I thought our child(ren) would be home by Christmas.  I just believed they would be home.  Our caseworker had told me about a sibling set and I had even spoken to their foster parents.  I hadn't seen their faces.  {Thank you Jesus}. And as the days turned into weeks and November dwindled with not so much as a phone call, December began to feel heavy.  I had also hoped for a very special baby to be able to come home from the NICU by Christmas.  God knew these deep wishes in my heart, even if I wasn't that comfortable admitting just how desperately I wished for them.  He knew.  And as that first week of December dragged by, I spent more and more time in prayer - or really in quiet brokenness, because I didn't know what to pray.  And He met me there.  He always does. I can't put my finger on it, I don't have a beautiful image to give you, and I am not even certain it will make sense...but He gave me peace - the kind that goes beyond understanding.  And my heart knew my child(ren) were home... my heart had made a place for them, and God would fill in the details when the time came.  Our caseworker called around mid-December and told me that sibling set she had mentioned was in a different county now, but she was certain "2012 would be our year!"  Somehow her words were enough.  And that sweet baby wasn't yet able to come home for Christmas, but God told me He was faithful even in that.  While my heart was still heavy, it was also hopeful.  I left some Christmas decorations up longer than I normally would - a stubborn hope that our child(ren) would be coming any day.

January 11, we got the phone call that we had been matched with our boys.  And I felt like it was Christmas all over again.  Weeks later, sweet baby John Buckley was discharged from the NICU.

Oh what joy to wait on Him, the Giver of all good gifts!  This year had some bumps along the way, but there were many, many moments to celebrate as our family grew from 4 to 6.

As this Christmas approached, we considered not setting up our Christmas tree at all.  Our babies have one speed- GO!  They are healthy, active, inquisitive toddlers and we couldn't be happier about that.  We put out our nativity sets... the nicest one is a little further out of reach than it has been in the past.  We put out a tabletop tree in the kitchen and our little light-up Christmas village buildings too.  By December 1, though, we decided we should put up our tree too.  The big boys chose a few of their ornaments from their boxes to hang way-up-high, non-breakables only.  We bought a box of shatterproof bulbs to hang too.  Our garland covers the top 2/3 of the tree.  I put out the wonky tree skirt that I had made years ago.  A lot of the same, but still different.  It looked nearly perfect ;)  ...until the babies discovered they could drag that silly tree skirt all over the living room.  Or wear it like a cape.

Thankfully, Dayspring had chosen me to receive the No Greater Love Than Jesus- Reversible Tree Skirt from their Redeemed Christmas line.  I was a little over-the-top excited when it came.

It really is the perfect fit for our tree.  And nobody can wear it like a cape because it ties securely with two ties - which is two more ties than the tree skirt I had made years ago. 

 Its reversible which is all-kinds-of-fun.  I am especially fond of the side that says, "no greater love than Jesus."  I can't think of a better reminder for beneath the tree.

Most days Lincoln and Franklin spend some time lying under the tree while their big brothers are at school. And most of the days, if I am quiet and listen, I am reminded that God brought these gifts home to us at just the right time.  He redeems the waiting time.  He loves so deeply, so carefully, so intimately.  At Christmas, I am thankful for His love and overwhelmed by His good gifts. 

It's helpful to have it spelled out right there like that - because sometimes I forget how truly blessed I am, how deeply my Redeemer loves.

***Dayspring sent me the tree skirt for free (awesome, right?) but the opinions about it, are all my own.***

P.S. the tree skirt is on sale right now.  Big time.  Click here to check it out!

and the tears keep falling...

...and there are no answers.  Not really.

Brad told me while I was driving across town Friday.  "There was a school shooting, 26 dead most of them children."  So while I merged into the left lane I could not answer him.  I could not speak; the tears, the ache in my stomach, the hurt in my heart.  And he says, "Are you still there?"  So I tell him I can't bear it.  Its so awful.  And every adjective I know seems small in comparison to this kind of horror.  At a school.  An elementary school.

Today the tears still come.  I ache for families I don't know.  I weep for children that have had to huddle in a bathroom and listen to nearby gunfire.  There are presents tucked away in closets that will not be wrapped.  There are half-finished Christmas projects in elementary classrooms that are circled with crime scene tape.

And I wonder as I watch the footage, did someone go collect the winter coats for those children that escaped the horror?  I know they hugged their parents on that cold Connecticut day without coats.  And my mind lingers on the coats, because its easier to wonder if they have coats then to think any deeper.  And I scold myself a little for being so concerned with their coats.

I cried before church.  I almost cried while the preschoolers danced crazy to "Big House."  The tears spilled as we sang Christmas carols in service and wondered how these families will ever hear the carols again.  I cried as I read the newspaper.  I wondered aloud to Brad if I should just go shut our bedroom door and wail and weep and mourn and moan.  If I cried enough, would the tears stop?  If I really got a good cry out, would it end?  Or would it just keep happening?  And he in his wisdom said, "it will keep happening."

He's right.  I've seen some of those sweet baby faces now, and heard snippets of their much-too-short-stories.  And my tears spill again.  and my stomach feels sick, and my heart feels faint.  And I pray, "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, be near, come quickly, hold close."  My mind wonders how?  How can these families walk into their baby's bedrooms?  How can they look at their Christmas trees?  How can they breathe?  Oh my God.  Its too much. 

But God.

He is compassionate, so He reminds me that He is able.
{be compassionate just as your Father is compassionate. luke 6:36 ceb}

He is the Comforter.  
{blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. 2 corinthians 1:3-4}

He is the Healer.  
{and He Himself bore our sins in His body on the cross, so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; for by His wounds you were healed. 1 peter 2:24}

He is Immanuel.  God with us.
{“the virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”). matthew 1:23 niv}

He is here. 
{where can I go from Your Spirit? or where can I flee from Your presence? psalm 139:7}

He wraps His arms around Newtown.
{I am surrounded by trouble, but you protect me against my angry enemies.  with your own powerful arm you keep me safe.  psalm 138:7}

He is near the brokenhearted. 
{the Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. psalm 34:18}

He carries the weak.  
{come to me, all you who are struggling hard and carrying heavy loads, and I will give you rest.  matthew 11:28}

He weeps with those who weep. 
{when Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, He was deeply moved in spirit and was troubled, and said, “where have you laid him?” they said to Him, “Lord, come and see.” Jesus wept. john 11:33-35}

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.  Only Him.

He does not scold me for crying long and often.  He hears my cries and my prayers for this broken world.  My arms are heavy with the blessings of my family this Christmas, while at the same time my heart aches for those with empty arms.  Tears fill my eyes.  Those families far away.  The first responders that saw horrors worse than any imagination can fathom.  Those parents that fell broken at the news their babies were gone.  Tears fill my eyes.  The hurt down deep is only matched by the gratitude for the blessings He has so richly given me.  He urges me to count those blessings.

Tears came again this morning.  I hugged my boys extra tight. I snuck notes into their lunch bags even though the 4th grader has repeatedly asked me not to.   I even wrote notes to their teachers. Two women that God has chosen to teach our boys this year, I told them "thank you."  Through tears I wrote in flowing cursive how deeply grateful I am that they care for our boys so well.  I told them that I expect the best from them, that I do not doubt for a minute that would do everything in their power to keep their students safe - and I wanted them to know that I was grateful for that confidence in them.  I wanted each of them to know that they are appreciated.

The tears will continue this week.  No doubt.  As I see those sweet faces, and hear the brave stories; I will continue to beg Jesus to hold and comfort and bring mercy to us here. I won't seek for answers, I won't ask "why."   I will hug tighter and hold closer and make sure words are not left unsaid.  I will believe  God's word to be true and trust that He is enough.  I have no other choice.

finally final!

Here is a little slideshow of our boys. It is mostly in chronological order. I had made another one, but for some reason it turned out all choppy & weird. Brad swooped in and saved the day by quickly transferring pictures to this version last night. {I had originally added captions with the babies' names on their photos. You'll have to just watch closely and look for the color-coding hints... generally Lincoln wears red and Franklin wears green. So if one of those colors is more dominate you can guess who is who. But SO many of our clothes for the boys have been given to us and therefore the color-coding isn't super consistent.}
 


The song is "Mine to Love" by Dave Barnes.

Thankful!

We have so very much to be thankful for this year. Including each person that added a feather to our Turkey this year (and we're thankful for those of you that didn't too - you know who you are!) 

We tried a couple variations of the picture, the sitting one didn't last long and turned out a smidge blurry, as you can see.  The standing pose above, well, the babies r-e-a-l-l-y wanted to get their hands on some of those crosses on the cross wall!

We had a great Thanksgiving celebration.  The babies were absolutely thrilled with the amount of food and the number of choices they were given.  Brad had to work in the morning, but thankfully he was home all afternoon.  We are truly blessed!

"Always be joyful. Never stop praying.  Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus." 

 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

National Adoption Month

first meeting

Did you even know that the month of November is dedicated to adoption awareness?  I'm not sure I did until we started on this process. 

Oh, and fun fact :: I thought our child(ren) would be placed in our home during that first National Adoption Month after we finished our home study in 2010.  And get this - I thought the adoption would be finalized by the end of that same month.  It is almost laughable now {praise God} but I really believed it would be fast.  And easy.

Our experience with adoption has been neither fast nor easy.  But we have learned a whole lot.  Some things we've learned, if I'm being honest, I'd like to unlearn.  There are some hard truths out in the adoption world.  Things that unsettle, unhinge, and more or less just wreck a person.  And once you are wrecked, you can't be unwrecked.  But the glory of it is that God makes something beautiful in that messy space.  And that wreck in your heart becomes a humble place for obedience.  So, maybe I don't want to unlearn it after all.

second meeting

 "A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.God sets the lonely in families, he leads out the prisoners with singing, but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land."  Psalm 68:5-6



 "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." James 1:27

"But you, God, see the trouble of the afflicted; you consider their grief and take it in hand. The victims commit themselves to you; you are the helper of the fatherless. You, Lord, hear the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, defending the fatherless and the oppressed, so that mere earthly mortal  will never again strike terror." Psalm 10:14, 17-18

All that to say.  There are a few things I want to tell you in honor of National Adoption Month.  And its sort of hard to even know where to start.  Don't worry, this is not a post to try and convince you to adopt.  I'm pretty certain the Holy Spirit has got that covered.  Rather, its just a bit about how to be a part of adoption in general.  More than anything, I think, I want you to know that you have a role to play.  And its important.  Here's why:

1.  A lot of people don't know very much about adoption.  See the 2nd paragraph and you will know that I was once one of the ignorant ones.  I do not mean ignorant in the sense of idiotic so much as lacking-information.  Its not an insult, its an observation.  Folks just do not know things.  And they don't realize that they don't know...so they say things that lead you to an awkward place really quickly.  This can be a very isolating and frustrating experience for the adoptive family.  For example a nurse at the doctor's office recently launched into a tale of a baby with FAS and all of his issues after learning that the babies with us were our new sons.  Awkward. And not helpful.

2.  Adoption is expensive.  But so are children in general.  Somewhere along our journey after yet another well-meaning-encourager told me how great it was that we were adopting from foster care instead of "paying all that money to get a baby from somewhere else" it hit me.  Babies cost money.  Each one.  I haven't done the math, but I think if I added up the costs from when I was pregnant for all of my doctor's visits, prenatal vitamins, blood tests, labwork, ultrasounds, acupuncture, adjustments, maternity clothes (why not?), plus all the costs of labor + delivery... we'd be awfully close to the price of an agency-assisted adoption.  {And maybe beyond that price with my induction + epidural with Walker.}  And while we aren't really paying anything out-of-pocket for our adoption, the State is paying. There is still a cost.  And I am certain that there is not a price you could tell us today that we would say, "No way, these babies are not worth that much!"  Every child is worth it. 

3.  Adoption is a battlefield.  I feel like we have had to fight {hard + often} along the way.  I know other adoptive families that have done the same.  I have had people in church pull me aside and whisper "why are you adopting?", and I've felt judgement when I expected joy.  Somehow, the horror stories in adoption are the stories that Christians retell most often.  I don't know why, but I have a theory.  I think Satan hates adoption.  Russell Moore wrote an excellent book called, "Adopted for Life" and in it he writes, "The gospel of Jesus Christ means our families and churches ought to be at the forefront of the adoption of orphans close to home and around the world.  As we become more attuned to the gospel, we'll have more of a burden for orphans.  As we become more adoption-friendly, we'll be better able to understand the gospel."  Moore does clarify that he doesn't believe Christians should adopt out of some sort of obligation like donating to the building fund.  And to be clear, we do not believe that either.

So you might be wondering what role you have to play in all of this. 


In a nutshell : Learn, pray, give. 


Learn more about adoption, might I suggest you read "Adopted for Life" as a starting point?  This was the first book I read after we felt certain we should adopt.  Rather than convince us of anything, it confirmed what we already knew - and put it into words that helped us understand better how God was leading us through His story.  I think reading it would help anyone have a better understanding of adoption as it relates to Jesus...both as the act of adopting a child and the process of becoming an adopted Child of God. Having more knowledge about adoption will allow you to be a support for those families that are adopting, and help avoid awkward conversations!   [Click here for purchasing information!]

One of the absolute best things we did in our journey is ask others to pray.  I have a chicken-scratch-list of emails on a notecard near our computer and I emailed this group of ladies regularly about how the process was moving along (or not moving along).  These ladies encouraged me in my worn-out-weary-state more often than I can say.  Their well-timed words were soothing, encouraging, and strengthening.  They are forever a part of our family's adoption story.   They continue to be a vital part of this process.   So if you know someone that is considering adoption or is in the process of adopting... volunteer to pray with them.  And then do it.  Often.  This will help in the battlefield of adoption more than you or I can know.

And one more practical thing you can do?  Give.  If you know a family that is adopting there is a good chance that they are needing to raise funds.  Not always, but often. So ask what they need.  And give.  Maybe you can trade services or goods, or host a yard sale.  You might be able to offer something that will translate into funds for them, even if you can't hand over cash.  Whatever you can give will help with the expense of adoption.

And if we happen to be the only family that you know personally that is in the middle of this adoption journey, well, I have a suggestion. ;)

I am guessing that if you have read this far than you r-e-a-l-l-y love our family.  And there is a good chance that you would have given as much as you could if we had needed you to.  But God provided for our adoption in another way.  So today I'd like you to consider if you might like to make a donation in Lincoln and Franklin's honor to help bring home some baby girls from India.  My friend, Aimee, and her husband and two boys are adopting two sweet girls from India.  God has brought in an astonishing $37,000 toward their adoption and they are in the final push for the remaining $10,000.  I assure you, every little bit helps.   I will send you an email with further details about donating to their adoption.  Leave a comment or email me if you would like this information.