As a parent, I sure have said some things I regret. Most every day, I think.
I've also said things that I desperately hope the boys hear and hold on to, although its hard to know at the time if they do.
This week I carved two fake pumpkins. It was super hard. I knew it would be, which is why I didn't do it last year. Wilson and Walker have fake pumpkins with their names carved in them and I adore them. My Aunt Lori +and Uncle Joe made them and sent them to us our first year in Oklahoma. They make me smile whenever I see them. When I pulled them out this year, I decided we should make them for Lincoln and Franklin.
Early in the season I saw the fake pumpkins at Hobby Lobby but stepped away quickly when I saw their price tag $24.99. Yikes. When I found them for 70% off at JoAnn's last week, I sent Brad a text to see if I should go ahead and get them. I was half-hoping he'd say no because I just knew it was going to be a hard task. He said yes. I chose larger ones because Lincoln and Franklin have longer names, so I wanted a bigger work area. I didn't realize just how much bigger they were until I brought them home. Oops.
I kept putting off the task. I had even hoped to con my mom into helping while she was here last weekend. Those two giant, fake pumpkins sat by my sewing table mocking me with their facelessness.
Monday, I printed a template from word with each of their names. I attempted the make-your-own-copy-paper by scribbling a pencil all over the back. It didn't transfer like I hoped. So I tried scoring the pumpkin with an exacto blade. It broke off somewhere along the third letter of Lincoln's name. I then realized that if I pressed hard with a pen it would indent the pumpkin. I ended up using a regular-pumpkin-carving knife (the kind from Pampered Chef). Lincoln's turned out decently. I was hopeful for Franklin's - which I saved for last because that dude has a long name. Why didn't we pick something like Jim? or Tim? or Al?
I started with the last letter and began working my way backwards. When I got to carving the K the top piece fell inside the pumpkin. I tried not to get too frustrated and thought I could glue that piece back. Then the bottom fell in. I carved the next N fine and remained hopeful. Of course, when I got to the A, it fell in. I skipped the R because it seemed fragile in that area, the F was cooperative for a time. Then three pieces fell in. I had no happy thoughts.
Although these were 70% off, they were not cheap enough for me to feel OK with throwing them away. Besides, Lincoln's was fine but I was sure I wouldn't be able to find another one at JoAnn's to replace this one. Did I mention all of this carving was happening outside while the boys played? They heard my frustrated sighs and groans getting louder. Stupid, stupid pumpkins.
Wilson came over to check on my progress. I showed him the missing pieces and halfheartedly told him I hoped I could figure out a fix. I complained (whined?) about how horribly I was doing. He then says to me, "Well, its like you said with football. You can't do something one time and expect to be perfect. You have to work at it."
Wait, what? I totally thought he blew me off when I said that to him at the beginning of the season. I certainly didn't think he saw any value in the statement. And here he stands next to me with my mangled pumpkin, using my words to encourage me.
Doing something terribly the first time you do it, does not mean you will always be terrible at it. A lot of things we attempt take practice, and result in failure a few times. I desperately want my boys to know that. I had never guessed God would use a jacked-up jack-o-lantern to let me know the message is sinking in. He brought my words back to me.
I suddenly felt relief about how insignificant this pumpkin really was. I salvaged all of the fallen pieces for Franklin's name and put it aside until after dinner, baths, and bedtime. I decided I could turn it around and carve "Frank" into the opposite side if I couldn't fix the mess I had made.
While the youngest three were in bed, I pulled out the e6000 glue and started putting pieces together. Wilson reminded me that this wasn't actually the first time I had glued a mess together. {I broke a vase and glued it back together at the suggestion of this book,. Wilson watched a lot of that process.} At first, pieces just fell off. Wilson had to go to bed, and I kept working along slowly. Eventually I figured out a way to hold them in place as they dried. To my surprise all the pieces were still hanging together the next morning.
I carved noses + eyes today and the jack-o-lanterns look just fine (although way bigger then their bigger brothers'). Most people won't even notice the lines where pieces were glued back together on Franklin's pumpkin. They'll just be reminders to me of this slow work of motherhood, and the surprising ways that God encourages me in the process.
30 October 2013
19 October 2013
on winning
Wilson's football team remains undefeated. Wilson keeps a running tally, so I know that they have scored 136 unanswered points. One team has scored one touchdown against them this season. There are only 4 teams total in our little on-post-league, though. So we are on round two against the same teams.
On the pre-game ride over to the field this morning, Wilson told me that his coach had said they couldn't ease up. He said ALL of the other teams want them to lose so they'll be playing harder against them. {I agree with the coach, I think all three teams would cheer excitedly if any of them beat us.}
I noticed something during the game today. It seemed as if all the boys on Wilson's team were playing hard. Different kiddos were making big plays. They were trying out new plays too. They were taking risks. Their teamwork was clicking really well. They were relentless.
The opposing team started out tough. Minutes into the game they forced a turnover after our failed fourth down attempt. However, they weren't able to score on that drive. We faced another fourth down attempt and this time broke through the line. There was a defender in range to tackle our runner. His feet stuttered and he more-or-less fell right alongside the rusher. We scored. When we kicked after that TD, the player that caught the ball took a step or two to the side then fell down as our guys rushed to him. He didn't want to get tackled, so he wouldn't run forward.
They were playing scared. They were playing defeated.
I'm not bad-mouthing 9 + 10-year-old boys here, they actually taught me something.
Sometimes, I play scared. Sometimes, I play defeated.
I forget that I am on the winning team.
When I've screamed over spilled milk before 8 am, I think the day is lost. When the teacher writes another note on the homework sheet {that I had signed} about the wrong work being completed, I assume I'll never get it right. When dinner is a flop and the kitchen is a mess and the babies need baths and the laundry needs folded and I just want to fall down so I won't get plowed over. I think I'm losing.
But I'm not. The victory has already been won. I want to live like I believe that.
"but thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 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." 1 Corinthians 15:57-58
Sometimes, I just need a reminder. Don't we all? So I'm posting a song {surprise!} for you to play loud and dance along with! Maybe this reminder is too simple for the hard place that you are in today. I pray though, that you'll find a moment with enough light in it, to turn up the music, close your eyes and just dance. We win in the end.
The song is "In the End" by Natalie Grant. It is from her new album Hurricane. Purchase here.
*the football picture is not from today's game, so the other team will not be incriminated.
17 October 2013
living the dream
As I went to PWOC this morning, I was considering this current push of "pursuing your dreams." It can be confusing.
I love my life today. The way all the parts fit together, I am just pleased. Content. At peace. This was never "my dream." Is that even OK to say out loud? {I hope so, because I blurted it out during my bible study class.} To me, every bit of this life I live was stitched together by Creator God. There is no way I could've dreamed this up, imagined it, or even hoped for it. I quoted from my bible study workbook this morning on FB::
Speaking of seen, I took a selfie today, mostly for those of you that live far away. I know you must miss my face.
I took that selfie because I wanted to show you the craziness that Pinterest talked me into behind my face. Those twisty things. And those bobby pins. Part of me thinks it worked. Part of me wonders. {You can see Koka avoiding eye contact in the hair picture, she's one to judge.}
Also. These two were good in their class this morning. They were given suckers as soon as we hit the sidewalk. I am not above bribery. Especially bribery with sugar.
As I was backing out of the parking spot this conversation happened:
Lincoln: Wheel broken. Broke wheel.
Me: {guessing} Oh, a wheel broke? On a toy? It was an accident, though, huh?
Franklin: No, uh, no, I broke that wheel. I ran and broke that wheel.
Lincoln: Ya, Frank'in break it.
Well, their teachers DID say they were good.
I love my life today. The way all the parts fit together, I am just pleased. Content. At peace. This was never "my dream." Is that even OK to say out loud? {I hope so, because I blurted it out during my bible study class.} To me, every bit of this life I live was stitched together by Creator God. There is no way I could've dreamed this up, imagined it, or even hoped for it. I quoted from my bible study workbook this morning on FB::
"To live for the greatness of God is to live the great life... Every one of us who embraces the glory of God as our purpose will end up doing great things precisely because we do God-things." - Beth Moore from EstherI'm just beginning to unpack these thoughts, so I will be thinking about them more - a lot more -you will likely hear more about it too. God weaves our lives together in such detailed ways. I'm convinced that the seen and the unseen, it all matters.
Speaking of seen, I took a selfie today, mostly for those of you that live far away. I know you must miss my face.
I took that selfie because I wanted to show you the craziness that Pinterest talked me into behind my face. Those twisty things. And those bobby pins. Part of me thinks it worked. Part of me wonders. {You can see Koka avoiding eye contact in the hair picture, she's one to judge.}
Also. These two were good in their class this morning. They were given suckers as soon as we hit the sidewalk. I am not above bribery. Especially bribery with sugar.
As I was backing out of the parking spot this conversation happened:
Lincoln: Wheel broken. Broke wheel.
Me: {guessing} Oh, a wheel broke? On a toy? It was an accident, though, huh?
Franklin: No, uh, no, I broke that wheel. I ran and broke that wheel.
Lincoln: Ya, Frank'in break it.
Well, their teachers DID say they were good.
15 October 2013
celebrate the small
You know when you are just plain grateful? I'm having one of those weeks. Which is really crazy because Brad + I have had an awful head cold which makes me not-so-awesome to be around. However, God reminds me how much I need Him in my least awesome moments, which makes me profoundly grateful for His faithfulness at all times. This post is just a reflection of some of the things that I am grateful for today.
I had such a lovely morning in the foster care supply closet. Truly. I found out that the car seat + stroller that were donated have been given to a family that was recently reunified. They needed a car seat for baby. I hung up a bunch of new donations and rearranged a couple of shelves to make room for some toys and books. I had BIG plans to take a bunch of pictures. Then my timer went off. So you'll have to wait on the pictures. {Sorry!}
In other news, I made THE best pork roast last night. It was simple and came out perfectly moist and flavorful. I am only telling you this because it is so rare that I cook a roast so well. I have started a board on Pinterest for recipes that I have tried. I was very creative in naming the board, "Tried." This way, I can go back to that board when I am doing meal planning. Smart, huh? I am keeping the recipes I hated there too, so I don't accidentally make them again. Gross.
Walker and I have registered for our first 5k. It's a night run, called the Glow K 5K. It benefits the Wounded Warrior Project. I think he is going to be a super star! Sometime last week, it clicked for him that he can run. Prior to last week, we had to have a come-to-Jesus-meetin in the middle of every run. I told Brad that I think I have a clear picture of what it must have been like for him to run with me when I first started running. He is a good man.
Wilson continues to love football. He likes to play it. On game day. At recess. And as a video game. He also enjoys watching practically every televised game - regardless of who is playing - unless of course it is an SEC game, then he refuses to show interest. In the past, I had thought kids that were into sports, were that way because their parents forced them into it. I was wrong about that.
Lincoln and Franklin are getting huge. At lunch today they wanted apples. They both said, "Don't cut it, momma!" Seriously, the 10-year-old still likes his apples cut, but these two. They want to be big. Also? We are having some issues at childcare at church + Bible study. We are trying separate classrooms at church. They tend to play off of one another and it can spiral out of control pretty quickly. In case you wonder what this might look like, I offer this {completely hypothetical} example:
Brad and I persist in prayer for what God has planned next for our family. We still do not have a timeline for when Brad will be separated from the Army but he continues to search job postings and send out resumes like a boss. We trust that God has worked out the details ahead of us, and now we wait for Him to reveal those details as the time comes.
I am going to try and do a better job of telling our story here. You know, the everyday stuff that holds so much of the joy but seems small? I want to celebrate the small here. I want to collect it into words as I savor the little tidbits that matter so much. I hope in doing so, you'll celebrate your small too. It all matters. Aaaand now I have this song stuck in my head. Naturally.
I had such a lovely morning in the foster care supply closet. Truly. I found out that the car seat + stroller that were donated have been given to a family that was recently reunified. They needed a car seat for baby. I hung up a bunch of new donations and rearranged a couple of shelves to make room for some toys and books. I had BIG plans to take a bunch of pictures. Then my timer went off. So you'll have to wait on the pictures. {Sorry!}
In other news, I made THE best pork roast last night. It was simple and came out perfectly moist and flavorful. I am only telling you this because it is so rare that I cook a roast so well. I have started a board on Pinterest for recipes that I have tried. I was very creative in naming the board, "Tried." This way, I can go back to that board when I am doing meal planning. Smart, huh? I am keeping the recipes I hated there too, so I don't accidentally make them again. Gross.
Walker and I have registered for our first 5k. It's a night run, called the Glow K 5K. It benefits the Wounded Warrior Project. I think he is going to be a super star! Sometime last week, it clicked for him that he can run. Prior to last week, we had to have a come-to-Jesus-meetin in the middle of every run. I told Brad that I think I have a clear picture of what it must have been like for him to run with me when I first started running. He is a good man.
Wilson continues to love football. He likes to play it. On game day. At recess. And as a video game. He also enjoys watching practically every televised game - regardless of who is playing - unless of course it is an SEC game, then he refuses to show interest. In the past, I had thought kids that were into sports, were that way because their parents forced them into it. I was wrong about that.
Lincoln and Franklin are getting huge. At lunch today they wanted apples. They both said, "Don't cut it, momma!" Seriously, the 10-year-old still likes his apples cut, but these two. They want to be big. Also? We are having some issues at childcare at church + Bible study. We are trying separate classrooms at church. They tend to play off of one another and it can spiral out of control pretty quickly. In case you wonder what this might look like, I offer this {completely hypothetical} example:
Lincoln throws a toy.Yes, I do believe that is how the spiral begins. I am hoping to one day find a way to tap into positive peer pressure with one another, but for now we are trying separate classrooms. They actually do not seem to mind the time apart, so it might be a good thing for them.
Teacher says, "Lincoln toys are not for throwing."
Meanwhile, Franklin whips a toy in the opposite direction while looking at the teacher that is finishing her sentence to Lincoln.
Teacher says, "Franklin, we can't throw toys, one of our friends could get hurt..." Teacher's voice trails off as she notices Lincoln laughing hysterically and picking up a toy to throw. At her. Face.
Brad and I persist in prayer for what God has planned next for our family. We still do not have a timeline for when Brad will be separated from the Army but he continues to search job postings and send out resumes like a boss. We trust that God has worked out the details ahead of us, and now we wait for Him to reveal those details as the time comes.
I am going to try and do a better job of telling our story here. You know, the everyday stuff that holds so much of the joy but seems small? I want to celebrate the small here. I want to collect it into words as I savor the little tidbits that matter so much. I hope in doing so, you'll celebrate your small too. It all matters. Aaaand now I have this song stuck in my head. Naturally.
09 October 2013
bowling-pin-shaped-turkey and some happy thoughts
Ok, I mentioned that I was going to share a bowling-pin-shaped turkey project with y'all. And I am. But first, some happy news from my "time in the closet" yesterday. {You know, the one, right? The foster care supply closet downtown.}
On to the turkey. Y'all, I love it. It is one of the few things I've done well in terms of family traditions. And I think it came about as a whim.
It was so hard when we left Michigan to move to Oklahoma. I had been away from family before, so that part wasn't new to me, but the part about ripping a child from his grandparents and great grandparents and aunts and uncles? Oh my that was a new kind of hurt.
As we progressed toward the holiday season, I wanted a way for Wilson to feel connected with all the people we had left behind. I probably saw this idea in FamilyFun magazine or something, it was long before everyone was blogging-craft-tutorials which was even before everyone started pinning those ideas.
I cut out some feathers. One for every member of our immediate-extended family. Great grandparents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, first cousins. It was hard to exclude great aunts and uncles and subsequent cousins, but I had to cut out all those feathers by hand and it took a hot minute.
We typed up a little note and asked each family member to write what they were most thankful for over the past year. We put the note in an envelope along with enough feathers for each family member at each house and included a self-addressed return envelope for the feathers to be mailed back. I also made a bowling-pin-shaped-turkey and stuck him up on the wall.
And we waited for the mail to come.
I could not have guessed what a thrill this would be for Wilson. Mail, just for him, almost daily throughout November. We'd open the envelope, read the thankful notes, and hang the feathers up on that ol' turkey.
It was such fun that we began doing it every year.
{yes, we used a different turkey the first year, I might not have planned on doing this more than once.}
And now the boys are big enough to not only help cut out feathers, but they can help with addressing envelopes too. Well, technically only two out of four are big enough to help with addressing envelopes.
Here's where the whimsical part comes in... I save the feathers every year. I am terrible at saving the 'right' things. But somehow, I saved these feathers.
Year after year as we pull out our fall decorations, we find our turkey and all those feathers. We'll read the feathers from years' past when we hang that ol' turkey back up on the wall.
This year we'll send out 33 feathers to 15 addresses. The boys will eagerly check the mailbox throughout November. I'll casually remind family members to send their feathers back. {We've even transcribed feathers via text or email when "they get lost in the mail." } It's super fun to add new feathers too, either because of marriage or because of birth, the count is the same this year, but next year we'll be adding at least two new ones!
I would've never guessed when we started this ol' turkey what a treasure these feathers would become. These two are from my Grandpa & Grandma Lewis the very first year.
Its such a simple, but special tradition. Gratitude is a very sweet way to connect our boys with their family. I thought a few of you might want to try it, especially if you live far away from extended family.
What do you think? Is this something that might work for your family? If you are worried about free-handing a bowling-pin-shaped-turkey or feathers, there are templates online. Just ask google. Or pinterest!
***do you like step-by-step instructions?
- Almost every size has a minimum of three outfits. Unbelievable. These are the only sizes that have less than 3 outfits; girls' 24m + 2T, boys' 18m, 24m, 3T, M, L + XL. Amazing, really.
- The boys' old caseworker stopped by to chat for a moment. She has switched over to the adoption unit instead of foster care. She loves it and wanted to share how happy she is in her new department. She also told me that "a 17-year-old girl had just been adopted." We both smiled wide with teary-eyes as she spoke those words.
On to the turkey. Y'all, I love it. It is one of the few things I've done well in terms of family traditions. And I think it came about as a whim.
It was so hard when we left Michigan to move to Oklahoma. I had been away from family before, so that part wasn't new to me, but the part about ripping a child from his grandparents and great grandparents and aunts and uncles? Oh my that was a new kind of hurt.
As we progressed toward the holiday season, I wanted a way for Wilson to feel connected with all the people we had left behind. I probably saw this idea in FamilyFun magazine or something, it was long before everyone was blogging-craft-tutorials which was even before everyone started pinning those ideas.
I cut out some feathers. One for every member of our immediate-extended family. Great grandparents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, first cousins. It was hard to exclude great aunts and uncles and subsequent cousins, but I had to cut out all those feathers by hand and it took a hot minute.
We typed up a little note and asked each family member to write what they were most thankful for over the past year. We put the note in an envelope along with enough feathers for each family member at each house and included a self-addressed return envelope for the feathers to be mailed back. I also made a bowling-pin-shaped-turkey and stuck him up on the wall.
I could not have guessed what a thrill this would be for Wilson. Mail, just for him, almost daily throughout November. We'd open the envelope, read the thankful notes, and hang the feathers up on that ol' turkey.
It was such fun that we began doing it every year.
{yes, we used a different turkey the first year, I might not have planned on doing this more than once.}
And now the boys are big enough to not only help cut out feathers, but they can help with addressing envelopes too. Well, technically only two out of four are big enough to help with addressing envelopes.
Here's where the whimsical part comes in... I save the feathers every year. I am terrible at saving the 'right' things. But somehow, I saved these feathers.
Year after year as we pull out our fall decorations, we find our turkey and all those feathers. We'll read the feathers from years' past when we hang that ol' turkey back up on the wall.
This year we'll send out 33 feathers to 15 addresses. The boys will eagerly check the mailbox throughout November. I'll casually remind family members to send their feathers back. {We've even transcribed feathers via text or email when "they get lost in the mail." } It's super fun to add new feathers too, either because of marriage or because of birth, the count is the same this year, but next year we'll be adding at least two new ones!
I would've never guessed when we started this ol' turkey what a treasure these feathers would become. These two are from my Grandpa & Grandma Lewis the very first year.
Its such a simple, but special tradition. Gratitude is a very sweet way to connect our boys with their family. I thought a few of you might want to try it, especially if you live far away from extended family.
What do you think? Is this something that might work for your family? If you are worried about free-handing a bowling-pin-shaped-turkey or feathers, there are templates online. Just ask google. Or pinterest!
***do you like step-by-step instructions?
- Make a list of family members (or friends) you want to send feathers too.
- Cut out a feather for each person on your list.
- Buy two sizes of envelopes, make sure the smaller one will fit in the larger one.
- Buy stamps while you are at it. If you are feeling generous buy enough for the self-addressed return envelope.
- You may want to buy double-sided tape or poster putty or whatever you prefer to hang your turkey and his feathers on the wall.
- Write a note to share what your family is thankful for over the past year. Ask your family members to write their thanks on their feathers and mail them back.
- Stuff envelopes with feathers, note, and smaller self-addressed envelope.
- Make a turkey to hang on the wall.
- Wait for the mail to come.
- Hang feathers as they arrive.
- Take a picture of your kiddos in front of their turkey with all of his feathers.
- Pack it up for next year.
- Repeat.
07 October 2013
making art
When I was in the very early stages of the education program in college, I did "teacher assisting" in a 2nd grade classroom. This, more or less, was an opportunity to observe a real-life teacher in action. I ran copies and checked papers. Every once in awhile I got to take a small group of students to another room for a group activity. I was given the opportunity to fancy up the bulletin boards and even escort the class to specials! Toward the end of the semester I had to do a whole-class-lesson. I chose a Thanksgiving craft. It was basic. Make a bowling-pin-shaped-turkey body and add construction paper feathers. I think I cut the turkey body out for each student and then gave them the choice of colors of construction paper they wanted. I had cut the construction paper into feather-sized-rectangles; all the students had to do was taper an end to make a feather.
After explaining the project to the class, I hung my finished "turkey" on the blackboard and began to walk around the room to see how the kiddos were doing. They all seemed so eager to get started. One student asked me to help cut a feather. So I did. I heard my name being called out from various places around the classroom. Kind of frantically. I also began to notice hands waving violently at me. The eagerness was replaced with desperation. I had no idea what was happening.
The classroom teacher must have noticed that I was confused and things were falling apart. She stood up and met me across the room, she whispered, "they all want theirs to look just like yours."
My heart sank. There was not nearly enough time for me to go around and cut five feathers for each student, and besides, I didn't even know if I had enough of the same colors I had used to make mine.
I had no idea they would want to make theirs look just like mine. I thought they would love the idea of making their very own unique project.
I think I tried to tell the students to make theirs their own, but I'm not sure how many left that day with a finished project they were proud of.
I never forgot this lesson.
When I went on to teach, I always reminded myself about that instance. I wouldn't make a finished example to show the class. I left the projects open-ended and would be as encouraging as possible for students to put their own twist on it.
I did the same thing when I offered that little series of sewing classes at my house.
I don't know if we had stellar art teachers in grade school or if our parents did a super job of making us feel like our own flair was what made our work special. {My sister is crazy creative.} I just don't know. All I know is I rarely try to make anything creative exactly like someone else's. I like to make it my own. That is not to say that I make up all of the ideas myself, no no no, I just put my own spin on the ideas I come across. I really enjoy creating. Especially when I think of creating in the terms of "creative things."
You know how we kind of categorize things as "creative" or not. Some people say, "I don't have a creative bone in my body." You've heard that said, right?
Here's the lesson I am learning lately though. God is a Creator. We are made in His image. We are all creators. We do our best work, when our work is creative. I am the best mom, when I am doing it with my personality - the personality that God has given me, the one He is continually shaping. When I try to make my momming look like someone else's? I end up frustrated. And frantic. And desperate. And so much like a 2nd grader trying to do her teacher's art instead of making it her own.
The gentle gene is not dominant in my voice or parenting style. I'm silly, and loud, and a little bit cray-cray. I can't tell you how relieved I was to find out there are other parents like me... did you read this by Jen Hatmaker? I'm spicy.
The point is my momming should look like my own. I can certainly find resources to help in my parenting - as long as I am willing to seek His wisdom in how to put my own twist on the strategies. Picking up a parenting book and trying to implement it all the exact same way as the author will lead to frustration and disappointment.
I want to recognize my parenting as art. I want to be an image-bearer of Creative God in my day-to-day. Sometimes that will be making super hero capes. Some days it will be baking pumpkin chocolate chip muffins. Most days it will be looking into little boy eyes and speaking love and growing patience. Each will reflect God's glory.
Do your recognize your creativity? Have you thought about it before in terms of being an image-bearer of God - the One who spoke the world into being, with all of its vivid colors and vast variety?
One of my favorite voices on the internet is Emily Freeman. She has been exploring this theme on her blog calling out the art in all of us over the past year or so. It has been refreshing and challenging at the same time. Her newest book, "A Million Little Ways," is all about this idea. I've just begun reading it. Every time I open it, I teeter between wanting-to-read-the-whole-thing-as-quickly-as-possible and wanting to savor it s-l-o-w-l-y. It already has plenty of underlines in it. Here is a quote that I'd love to hear your thoughts on::
I'm eager to see how God uses this book to help me recognize the art in my everyday. I pray that it will move me closer to unflappable.
P.S. I have a bowling-pin-shaped-turkey activity that I want to share with you later this week. It's not so much the craft as the activity that goes along with it that makes me eager to share it. It is one of my favorite things to unpack from our fall bin! Sounds fun, huh?
After explaining the project to the class, I hung my finished "turkey" on the blackboard and began to walk around the room to see how the kiddos were doing. They all seemed so eager to get started. One student asked me to help cut a feather. So I did. I heard my name being called out from various places around the classroom. Kind of frantically. I also began to notice hands waving violently at me. The eagerness was replaced with desperation. I had no idea what was happening.
The classroom teacher must have noticed that I was confused and things were falling apart. She stood up and met me across the room, she whispered, "they all want theirs to look just like yours."
My heart sank. There was not nearly enough time for me to go around and cut five feathers for each student, and besides, I didn't even know if I had enough of the same colors I had used to make mine.
I had no idea they would want to make theirs look just like mine. I thought they would love the idea of making their very own unique project.
I think I tried to tell the students to make theirs their own, but I'm not sure how many left that day with a finished project they were proud of.
I never forgot this lesson.
When I went on to teach, I always reminded myself about that instance. I wouldn't make a finished example to show the class. I left the projects open-ended and would be as encouraging as possible for students to put their own twist on it.
I did the same thing when I offered that little series of sewing classes at my house.
I don't know if we had stellar art teachers in grade school or if our parents did a super job of making us feel like our own flair was what made our work special. {My sister is crazy creative.} I just don't know. All I know is I rarely try to make anything creative exactly like someone else's. I like to make it my own. That is not to say that I make up all of the ideas myself, no no no, I just put my own spin on the ideas I come across. I really enjoy creating. Especially when I think of creating in the terms of "creative things."
You know how we kind of categorize things as "creative" or not. Some people say, "I don't have a creative bone in my body." You've heard that said, right?
Here's the lesson I am learning lately though. God is a Creator. We are made in His image. We are all creators. We do our best work, when our work is creative. I am the best mom, when I am doing it with my personality - the personality that God has given me, the one He is continually shaping. When I try to make my momming look like someone else's? I end up frustrated. And frantic. And desperate. And so much like a 2nd grader trying to do her teacher's art instead of making it her own.
The gentle gene is not dominant in my voice or parenting style. I'm silly, and loud, and a little bit cray-cray. I can't tell you how relieved I was to find out there are other parents like me... did you read this by Jen Hatmaker? I'm spicy.
The point is my momming should look like my own. I can certainly find resources to help in my parenting - as long as I am willing to seek His wisdom in how to put my own twist on the strategies. Picking up a parenting book and trying to implement it all the exact same way as the author will lead to frustration and disappointment.
I want to recognize my parenting as art. I want to be an image-bearer of Creative God in my day-to-day. Sometimes that will be making super hero capes. Some days it will be baking pumpkin chocolate chip muffins. Most days it will be looking into little boy eyes and speaking love and growing patience. Each will reflect God's glory.
Do your recognize your creativity? Have you thought about it before in terms of being an image-bearer of God - the One who spoke the world into being, with all of its vivid colors and vast variety?
One of my favorite voices on the internet is Emily Freeman. She has been exploring this theme on her blog calling out the art in all of us over the past year or so. It has been refreshing and challenging at the same time. Her newest book, "A Million Little Ways," is all about this idea. I've just begun reading it. Every time I open it, I teeter between wanting-to-read-the-whole-thing-as-quickly-as-possible and wanting to savor it s-l-o-w-l-y. It already has plenty of underlines in it. Here is a quote that I'd love to hear your thoughts on::
He does not manage us, to-do list us, or bullet-point us. He loves us. Is with us. And believing Him feels impossible, until we do, like a miracle, like lukewarm water turning merlot red right there in the cup. And hope sprouts new, because God doesn't give us a list. He invites us into the story. God is not a technician. God is an Artist. This is the God who made you. The same God who lives inside you. He comes into us, then comes out of us, in a million little ways.Right now, Emily, is writing 31 days of Living Art. She describes it this way:: "This 31 day series is the fresh, colorful, yet not-quite-all-the-way-filling salad, while the book is the complete main course – warm bread, rich wine, lean meat. Eat what you will. All are welcome."
I'm eager to see how God uses this book to help me recognize the art in my everyday. I pray that it will move me closer to unflappable.
P.S. I have a bowling-pin-shaped-turkey activity that I want to share with you later this week. It's not so much the craft as the activity that goes along with it that makes me eager to share it. It is one of my favorite things to unpack from our fall bin! Sounds fun, huh?
04 October 2013
the not-so-secret-millionaire
I am going to post an update about the foster care supply closet at the end of this post. But before that I have to tell you something.
You may or may not know that Brad is getting out the Army due to his back problems. We are currently waiting for the VA to send his packet back to Fort Benning to get an idea about when this will happen and what we can expect. {Not sure how or if the shutdown is impacting this.} Meanwhile, Brad is hunting down a job. He is working like it all depends on him, and praying like it all depends on God. It really has been quite spectacular to watch. Brad's dream job would be something in orphan care. We've talked about where we might move. We've laughed about how most people would be more supportive of us moving to Africa than moving to an urban area.
I even picked up a clever joke to share when we talk about our future. I mention the show "Secret Millionaire" and talk about how I love watching it. If you haven't seen it, its a reality show that follows a millionaire into the broken-down parts of a city. While walking along the streets the millionaire pretends to be an average joe, he finds some non-profit-organizations to volunteer with, and in the end he spills the beans about his wealth and hands over some fat checks to the non-profits. I cry during every episode by the way. So, anyway, I joke about how Brad would like to possibly work with a non-profit, but that I wouldn't mind if God chooses us to be secret millionaires. And then I make a joke about promising to write tons of fat checks to all sorts of great places. Deep in my heart, I know that joke comes from a place of fear. Gah.
But this week, y'all. The joke was on me.
When I wrote three posts in a row last week I was spent. I came downstairs one afternoon and told Brad I had never felt that exhausted from writing a post. I think my words were, "it was just so hard to write." It felt like a mess to me, but I hit publish anyway. I couldn't have predicted what God could do with those messy words.
Since that post, we have received over $800 {retail value} in new clothing for the foster care supply closet. And two more boxes are in the mail! Plus a couple of local friends have items to donate! I was even able to meet a friend in the office on Tuesday morning! It blessed me to share that space with her! To top it off, she brought a newborn car seat with a base and a stroller to donate! BOOM!
{I know, I know, way too many exclamation points, but seriously !!!!!!}
Who are we, that all this goodness should come our way? The level of giddiness surrounding my heart is intoxicating.
It is as if I was handed a check by a secret millionaire.
It is as if my Father is trying to tell me something.
And I'm picking up on it. Glory, glory, hallelujah!
He has got this. Wherever He call us, He goes before us and with us. He is a not-so-secret-millionaire-times-infinity. Sometimes I forget how easily He can shift resources to the place they are needed. One of my favorite parts about all of this, is that I wasn't even a little bit convinced that my blog post was going to generate any donations. God can take what we think is a mess, and use it in ways we couldn't dream. I'm just in awe.
The more I walk with my Savior, the more I am drawn in to the mystery of His ways.
Ok - time for the update. Many have asked, "what else do you need?"
The number one need is VOLUNTEERS. Please pray for volunteers. Please! I'm thinking especially for volunteers to help at the front desk.
Here's the clothing needs' list (although there are two boxes en route, so this will change a bit!) We are almost to the point where any size can be purchased to help keep the closet fully stocked. Do you have any idea how amazing it is to type the words "fully stocked"??
Some other things that are needed include:
If you have questions, don't hesitate to ask it!
If you are a praying person, would you pray for the supply closet? Pray for the kiddos that will wear the clothing and use the items that are donated. Pray for them to feel the Love they are desperate for. If you are far away, pray for the kiddos in your community in foster care. You might never meet them personally, but your prayers matter more than we can imagine. I believe it with all my heart.
Finally, thank you. Your generosity is blowing me away. God is using you to love His children and I am learning so much in the process. I am humbled to be in this place right now. And also, giddy.
You may or may not know that Brad is getting out the Army due to his back problems. We are currently waiting for the VA to send his packet back to Fort Benning to get an idea about when this will happen and what we can expect. {Not sure how or if the shutdown is impacting this.} Meanwhile, Brad is hunting down a job. He is working like it all depends on him, and praying like it all depends on God. It really has been quite spectacular to watch. Brad's dream job would be something in orphan care. We've talked about where we might move. We've laughed about how most people would be more supportive of us moving to Africa than moving to an urban area.
I even picked up a clever joke to share when we talk about our future. I mention the show "Secret Millionaire" and talk about how I love watching it. If you haven't seen it, its a reality show that follows a millionaire into the broken-down parts of a city. While walking along the streets the millionaire pretends to be an average joe, he finds some non-profit-organizations to volunteer with, and in the end he spills the beans about his wealth and hands over some fat checks to the non-profits. I cry during every episode by the way. So, anyway, I joke about how Brad would like to possibly work with a non-profit, but that I wouldn't mind if God chooses us to be secret millionaires. And then I make a joke about promising to write tons of fat checks to all sorts of great places. Deep in my heart, I know that joke comes from a place of fear. Gah.
But this week, y'all. The joke was on me.
When I wrote three posts in a row last week I was spent. I came downstairs one afternoon and told Brad I had never felt that exhausted from writing a post. I think my words were, "it was just so hard to write." It felt like a mess to me, but I hit publish anyway. I couldn't have predicted what God could do with those messy words.
Since that post, we have received over $800 {retail value} in new clothing for the foster care supply closet. And two more boxes are in the mail! Plus a couple of local friends have items to donate! I was even able to meet a friend in the office on Tuesday morning! It blessed me to share that space with her! To top it off, she brought a newborn car seat with a base and a stroller to donate! BOOM!
{I know, I know, way too many exclamation points, but seriously !!!!!!}
Who are we, that all this goodness should come our way? The level of giddiness surrounding my heart is intoxicating.
It is as if I was handed a check by a secret millionaire.
It is as if my Father is trying to tell me something.
And I'm picking up on it. Glory, glory, hallelujah!
He has got this. Wherever He call us, He goes before us and with us. He is a not-so-secret-millionaire-times-infinity. Sometimes I forget how easily He can shift resources to the place they are needed. One of my favorite parts about all of this, is that I wasn't even a little bit convinced that my blog post was going to generate any donations. God can take what we think is a mess, and use it in ways we couldn't dream. I'm just in awe.
The more I walk with my Savior, the more I am drawn in to the mystery of His ways.
The earth is the Lord's, and all it contains,
The world, and those who dwell in it.
-Psalm 24:1 (NASB)
Ok - time for the update. Many have asked, "what else do you need?"
The number one need is VOLUNTEERS. Please pray for volunteers. Please! I'm thinking especially for volunteers to help at the front desk.
Here's the clothing needs' list (although there are two boxes en route, so this will change a bit!) We are almost to the point where any size can be purchased to help keep the closet fully stocked. Do you have any idea how amazing it is to type the words "fully stocked"??
Some other things that are needed include:
- towels (for use in the office, when kiddos come into care and need to get cleaned up)
- blankets (government office building = freezing AC)
- shelf-stable snacks
- underwear
- socks
- bras or camis
- older kiddo toiletries
- bags
- toy or stuffed animal (new or used in-no-way-this-is-practically-mint-condition)
- books (new or practically new)
- football, basketball, soccer ball
- lip gloss, nail polish, etc.
If you have questions, don't hesitate to ask it!
If you are a praying person, would you pray for the supply closet? Pray for the kiddos that will wear the clothing and use the items that are donated. Pray for them to feel the Love they are desperate for. If you are far away, pray for the kiddos in your community in foster care. You might never meet them personally, but your prayers matter more than we can imagine. I believe it with all my heart.
Finally, thank you. Your generosity is blowing me away. God is using you to love His children and I am learning so much in the process. I am humbled to be in this place right now. And also, giddy.
26 September 2013
ideas for giving
Ok. I am going to try to make this quick, but y'all me + the words get all cozy when I sit down at the PC.
I think I mentioned this before, but I am going to go ahead and say it again. While we were in "the waiting" part of our adoption, a few people {more than I would have guessed} said to us, "I'm so glad you are getting one from over here instead of paying all that money to another country. There are kids here that need families too." This always bugged me a bit, because I don't think it really matters where the child without a family is - nor do I think there is an "acceptable price" to pay for an adoption; like there is a cutoff of worth-it vs. overpriced. Gross.
However, I know there are people that fall into the camps of "help here" and "there is enough help here, help elsewhere." (ie. local vs. overseas) I fall right down the middle, most of the time.
So today I have two ideas for how you can give, one for here and one for there. Both of these ideas are in the vein of orphan prevention/family preservation. Adoption is, of course, one way to ease the orphan crisis (and obviously, one I believe in wholeheartedly!) but there is SO MUCH more that can be done to help stop the growing number of orphans in the first place. Many children become orphans as a direct result of poverty... living in one of the wealthiest nations in the world makes this idea so incomprehensible.
Poverty is an opportunity to serve. Let that settle in for a moment.
LOCAL::
I mentioned this yesterday, and I am going to expand on it today. The caseworker that I work with most directly also stopped by the closet to chat with me on Tuesday. She told me that their office is working on getting car seats for all of the caseworkers. She reminded me of the cars eats that had been in the office when I first came to help sort through things in the spring. One was expired. She didn't know those things had expiration dates (some of you didn't either, am I right?) She was explaining that it would be nice for each worker to have a dedicated car seat in case they need to transport children.
Also? She mentioned that sometimes the difference in whether or not a child comes in to foster care is a car seat. Some children come in to foster care in this community because their parents do not have a car seat. Y'all. She also mentioned that the same circumstance is true for pack-n-plays. Babies need a safe place. Not all parents have the cash to drop on a pack-n-play. I have two pack-n-plays in a closet right now. They were generously given to me. Not everyone has generous people in their lives supporting them. This is an opportunity to serve right here in this community. If you have (or know someone that has) a car seat or pack-n-play that can be donated, let me know. We'll get it to the right place. Of course, these items should be in nice condition. We can buy new pack-n-play mattress pads or sheets if yours are stained due to the horrible Rotavirus. {Oh, that might just be ours.}
OVERSEAS::
If you are far off {or close-by but would rather help far off}, I get you. And because I get you, I am going to go ahead and link you up with Compassion International again. You can do more than sponsor a child there, so go ahead and really click through the links on their website.
If you are interested in giving, serving, and investing yourself in a way to bring hope to the poor, as Johnny Carr says above, I urge you to consider sponsoring a child. It is one of the best decisions our family has made. Our bigger boys know about Uganda because that is where Junior lives. We often pray for his family and their needs. We talk about some of the challenges Junior faces, and write him letters to encourage him. I mentioned before that we also get letters back from Junior. These are such treasure. We get to reach across the ocean and serve a family in poverty. We get so much out of our sponsorship that the cost is no longer an issue.
Compassion International is the real deal, they work with a local church and serve the local community. They are continually seeking ways to bring about sustainable change in the communities they serve. Compassion International did reach their goal for Blog Month, but there are still plenty of children in need of sponsors.
If you ever, ever, ever, have any questions about sponsoring a child, I'm your girl.
One more thing, if you've been thinking that you would like to help our local foster care supply closet with donations (see yesterday's post), but the shipping seems outrageous. Might I suggest you bravely call YOUR local office and see what needs they might have? I'd be happy to bounce ideas around with you.
P.S. the quote is from Orphan Justice, you HAVE to read it. You just really should.
I think I mentioned this before, but I am going to go ahead and say it again. While we were in "the waiting" part of our adoption, a few people {more than I would have guessed} said to us, "I'm so glad you are getting one from over here instead of paying all that money to another country. There are kids here that need families too." This always bugged me a bit, because I don't think it really matters where the child without a family is - nor do I think there is an "acceptable price" to pay for an adoption; like there is a cutoff of worth-it vs. overpriced. Gross.
However, I know there are people that fall into the camps of "help here" and "there is enough help here, help elsewhere." (ie. local vs. overseas) I fall right down the middle, most of the time.
So today I have two ideas for how you can give, one for here and one for there. Both of these ideas are in the vein of orphan prevention/family preservation. Adoption is, of course, one way to ease the orphan crisis (and obviously, one I believe in wholeheartedly!) but there is SO MUCH more that can be done to help stop the growing number of orphans in the first place. Many children become orphans as a direct result of poverty... living in one of the wealthiest nations in the world makes this idea so incomprehensible.
"Poverty is not necessarily an issue to solve; it is an opportunity to serve. As we go through each day, our heart's cry should be, Lord, where would you have me give, serve, and invest myself to bring hope to the poor?"
~Orphan Justice author, Johnny Carr
Poverty is an opportunity to serve. Let that settle in for a moment.
LOCAL::
I mentioned this yesterday, and I am going to expand on it today. The caseworker that I work with most directly also stopped by the closet to chat with me on Tuesday. She told me that their office is working on getting car seats for all of the caseworkers. She reminded me of the cars eats that had been in the office when I first came to help sort through things in the spring. One was expired. She didn't know those things had expiration dates (some of you didn't either, am I right?) She was explaining that it would be nice for each worker to have a dedicated car seat in case they need to transport children.
Also? She mentioned that sometimes the difference in whether or not a child comes in to foster care is a car seat. Some children come in to foster care in this community because their parents do not have a car seat. Y'all. She also mentioned that the same circumstance is true for pack-n-plays. Babies need a safe place. Not all parents have the cash to drop on a pack-n-play. I have two pack-n-plays in a closet right now. They were generously given to me. Not everyone has generous people in their lives supporting them. This is an opportunity to serve right here in this community. If you have (or know someone that has) a car seat or pack-n-play that can be donated, let me know. We'll get it to the right place. Of course, these items should be in nice condition. We can buy new pack-n-play mattress pads or sheets if yours are stained due to the horrible Rotavirus. {Oh, that might just be ours.}
OVERSEAS::
If you are far off {or close-by but would rather help far off}, I get you. And because I get you, I am going to go ahead and link you up with Compassion International again. You can do more than sponsor a child there, so go ahead and really click through the links on their website.
If you are interested in giving, serving, and investing yourself in a way to bring hope to the poor, as Johnny Carr says above, I urge you to consider sponsoring a child. It is one of the best decisions our family has made. Our bigger boys know about Uganda because that is where Junior lives. We often pray for his family and their needs. We talk about some of the challenges Junior faces, and write him letters to encourage him. I mentioned before that we also get letters back from Junior. These are such treasure. We get to reach across the ocean and serve a family in poverty. We get so much out of our sponsorship that the cost is no longer an issue.
Compassion International is the real deal, they work with a local church and serve the local community. They are continually seeking ways to bring about sustainable change in the communities they serve. Compassion International did reach their goal for Blog Month, but there are still plenty of children in need of sponsors.
If you ever, ever, ever, have any questions about sponsoring a child, I'm your girl.
One more thing, if you've been thinking that you would like to help our local foster care supply closet with donations (see yesterday's post), but the shipping seems outrageous. Might I suggest you bravely call YOUR local office and see what needs they might have? I'd be happy to bounce ideas around with you.
P.S. the quote is from Orphan Justice, you HAVE to read it. You just really should.
25 September 2013
a gift
Yesterday when I walked into the foster care closet, there were three bags of donations right inside the door. This is always somewhat of a thrill for me to discover. One bag had some used items that were not even a little bit useful but the other two bags were full of useful clothing - for toddlers and infants and for the biggest of boys (36/34 pants!).
{I made a video tour of the closet yesterday but I have no idea how to rotate it, so once I figure that out, I'll add it here. Its dorky, but thought y'all might like a peek inside!}
After sorting through all of those donations, I began unloading what I had brought in as well. While I was working a caseworker that I have seen frequently popped her head in to say thank you. She asked where I get all the stuff that I bring in - which gave me a chance to brag on the generosity of you amazing people! She mentioned again just how much she appreciates the work that has been done in there.
I decided to ask her a question, "If there's something you need, or something we've overlooked that you would like added to the closet, what would it be?"
And y'all. She gave me such a great gift with her response. I can't quote it word for word, but I want to give you an idea of what she had to say.
For comparison's sake, here is a picture of the boys' racks and the girls' rack (same sizes).
Below you'll find an updated needs list. Let me know if you would like to donate some items to help fill up the closet.
***Everything MUST be new. This is not my standard, but the one that the office has set. I totally understand why, even though I know y'all would only give the very best used stuff.***
Toddler Sizes:
Kid-Adult Sizes:
MISC:
towels, blankets, older child toiletries & trinkets; toys for younger kiddos to call their own.
As always::
QUESTIONS? Ask away. Please!
IDEAS? Share them. Please!
INTERESTED IN VOLUNTEERING YOUR TIME? Let's talk. PLEASE!
{Also? If you have a genius idea for how to get this list out in a better format, let me know. I am certain there is a better way... I just need you to tell me what it is ;)}
P.S. I'll be back later with some other ideas for giving. I was going to include it all here, but I am Miss Wordyvonwordswords and nobody has time to read all of the words at one time. (ask Sweet Brown). Just a hint, one is about car seats and pack and plays - can you believe that having those things vs. not having them could be the difference in a child coming in to foster care. Y'all we can totally do this. Post coming soon. I will not give myself a deadline today.
After sorting through all of those donations, I began unloading what I had brought in as well. While I was working a caseworker that I have seen frequently popped her head in to say thank you. She asked where I get all the stuff that I bring in - which gave me a chance to brag on the generosity of you amazing people! She mentioned again just how much she appreciates the work that has been done in there.
I decided to ask her a question, "If there's something you need, or something we've overlooked that you would like added to the closet, what would it be?"
And y'all. She gave me such a great gift with her response. I can't quote it word for word, but I want to give you an idea of what she had to say.
Well, we need more clothes for older girls. Like pre-teen/teen. When a child comes in, I like to bring them right in here. The bags are so great (shout out to those of you that bought & donated 31 bags!!), I let them pick which one they want. I then show them the toiletry shelves and let them put anything in there that they want. I like them to have some things of their own to take with them. If they are wearing shoes, I still let them take a pair if there is a pair that fits them. If there are enough clothes, I like to let them pick out an outfit to wear.In all honesty, at first I felt like I had messed it all up. I'm not sure if this is going to read correctly or not, but for a moment, I was close to just shutting down and dismissing what she said because I had made a mistake. All along I had been requesting fewer clothes for older kiddos, and more for the younger kiddos. Add to that, over the summer I moved ALL of the toys/trinkets out of the closet to make room for all of the toiletries the church had collected during VBS. I was under the impression that they were not used. As I process what she had said, I momentarily turned it all inward and started thinking about how I screwed it up. But God. Always, intervening, He prompted me to ask more questions. I asked her if she knew where I had moved the toys, and thankfully, she clarified...
Not that the baby things are bad, we just don't get that many babies, but when we do we usually are able to give them a couple outfits which is really helpful. Also, if there are some toys or things to give them. Its hard to imagine, but they might go to a home where someone will say, "you can't touch that, its not yours!" So I like them to have at least one toy that belongs to them that they can take in the bag, you know, for like toddler age and up. Just so they have one thing that goes with them.
Oh yes, I know where they are. And I take the kids down there to pick them out. But they are almost gone now, so more of those type items would be great.Her reply about the toys helped me get back on track, she thanked me again for the work in the closet; and I got back to work. As I put things on hangers, I thought about what a gift it was to hear how this particular worker uses the closet. I hadn't really imagined a child coming in there before and it shifted my thinking considerably. After hanging up all the new donations, I went through and tallied all the sizes up. (Brad has made me a high-speed spreadsheet to help me track what we have in the closet. I'll add a column for bags and shoes too, so I can start tracking that better too.) The school-age-and-up girls' rack was pitiful. {IS pitiful!} So that is this week's immediate need.
For comparison's sake, here is a picture of the boys' racks and the girls' rack (same sizes).
***Everything MUST be new. This is not my standard, but the one that the office has set. I totally understand why, even though I know y'all would only give the very best used stuff.***
- GIRLS
- Newborn - fulfilled
- 3-6 months - fulfilled
- 6-9 months - fulfilled
- 12 months - fulfilled
- 18 months - fulfilled
- 24 months - need 2 outfits
- 2T - need 3 outfits
- 3T - need 3 outfits
- 4T -need 3 outfits
- XS - need 3 outfits
- S - need 3 outfits (there are two nice tops there, but no bottoms!)
- M- need 3 outfits
- L - need 3 outfits
- XL - need 3 outfits (there are a few bottoms (jeans, khakis, black pants, and 2 skirts[black + hot pink with polka dots])
- BOYS
- Newborn - fulfilled
- 3-6 months - fulfilled
- 6-9 months - fulfilled
- 12 months - fulfilled
- 18 months -fulfilled
- 24 months - fulfilled
- 2T - need 1 outfit
- 3T - need 1 outfit
- 4T - fulfilled
- XS - fulfilled
- S - fulfilled
- M- need 2 outfits (there are three tops)
- L - need 2 outfits (there are four tops)
- XL - fulfilled
Toddler Sizes:
- Boys 1, Girls 1
- Girls 2
- Girls 4
- Boys 7, Girls 7
- Boys 8, Girls 8
- Boys 10
- Boys 13
Kid-Adult Sizes:
- Boy 1
- Boy 2
- Boy 4, Girl 4
- Boy 5, Girl 5
- Boy 6, Girl 6
- Boy 7, Girl 7
- Boy8, Girl 8
MISC:
towels, blankets, older child toiletries & trinkets; toys for younger kiddos to call their own.
As always::
QUESTIONS? Ask away. Please!
IDEAS? Share them. Please!
INTERESTED IN VOLUNTEERING YOUR TIME? Let's talk. PLEASE!
{Also? If you have a genius idea for how to get this list out in a better format, let me know. I am certain there is a better way... I just need you to tell me what it is ;)}
P.S. I'll be back later with some other ideas for giving. I was going to include it all here, but I am Miss Wordyvonwordswords and nobody has time to read all of the words at one time. (ask Sweet Brown). Just a hint, one is about car seats and pack and plays - can you believe that having those things vs. not having them could be the difference in a child coming in to foster care. Y'all we can totally do this. Post coming soon. I will not give myself a deadline today.
24 September 2013
responsible
Is it getting too cliche for me to embed a song in every post? Gah. This morning when we were reading our Proverb for the day (you do that, right? one proverb for each day of the month?), verses 11-12 jumped right off the page to me. At the same time, they jogged my memory of a song I had heard, that I thought was called, "I am responsible." {Its actually called, Albertine.}
I'm not sure if I was aware of verses that so blatantly tell us that pretending to not know does not get us off the hook for inaction.
Am I right?
Let me remind you of some Truth. Whatever you offer, if it is all you can offer, it is enough. {See: The widow and her mites. Luke 21:1-4}
I wish I could tell you how many times I fuss over not being able to do more. In fact, sometimes I spend so much time fussing over not being able to do more, that I do nothing.
I have 3 hours of free childcare a week through our church's Mom's Morning Out program. I am doing my best to offer that time to volunteer at the Department of Children + Family Services office. If I'm honest, its closer to 2 hours and 15 minutes by the time you factor in my drive time and the predictable late-out-the-door-start. (I've yet to leave the house without breaking into a sweat, we can leave on time with gnashing of teeth, or late with joy; most days I try to choose the joy. Either way I am still a sweaty mess.)
I can easily see how 2 hours and 15 minutes is barely anything when the need is 40 hours. That is not how God sees it though. Somehow in His infinite power He is able to take my offering and multiply it. Today I carried a loaded-down-bag full of donations in with me. The money that purchased those items did not come from my pocket. God provides through His people over and over again.
So, friends, I am telling you today -- your offering is not too small. Your donations are nothing to be ashamed of; God will multiply what you give away. He sees your heart.
I'm guessing you already have some ideas of where you would like to give. Start there!
And if you aren't quite sure where you want to give, good news, I've got some ideas for you. {And I hope to post them soon, but probably not until after bedtime. When I'm done with that post, I'll link it here too.}
And now, Albertine. The video is sort of weird, but I really like to see lyrics when I listen to a new song, so that's why I embedded this one.
I'm not sure if I was aware of verses that so blatantly tell us that pretending to not know does not get us off the hook for inaction.
Rescue those being led away to death;
hold back those staggering toward slaughter.
If you say, "But we knew nothing about this,"
does not He who weighs the heart perceive it?
Does not He who guards your life know it?
Will He not repay everyone according to what they have done?
Proverbs 24:10-11If that isn't compelling enough, you can always look it up in The Message.
Rescue the perishing; don't hesitate to step in and help.Ouch! I don't know why I don't have these verses posted all over my house. They are such pointed reminders. I'm guessing that there are a few of you that would like to help in some way or another, but you wonder if what you have to offer is enough.
If you say, "Hey, that's none of my business,"
will that get you off the hook?
Someone is watching you closely, you know-
Someone not impressed with weak excuses.
Am I right?
Let me remind you of some Truth. Whatever you offer, if it is all you can offer, it is enough. {See: The widow and her mites. Luke 21:1-4}
I wish I could tell you how many times I fuss over not being able to do more. In fact, sometimes I spend so much time fussing over not being able to do more, that I do nothing.
I have 3 hours of free childcare a week through our church's Mom's Morning Out program. I am doing my best to offer that time to volunteer at the Department of Children + Family Services office. If I'm honest, its closer to 2 hours and 15 minutes by the time you factor in my drive time and the predictable late-out-the-door-start. (I've yet to leave the house without breaking into a sweat, we can leave on time with gnashing of teeth, or late with joy; most days I try to choose the joy. Either way I am still a sweaty mess.)
I can easily see how 2 hours and 15 minutes is barely anything when the need is 40 hours. That is not how God sees it though. Somehow in His infinite power He is able to take my offering and multiply it. Today I carried a loaded-down-bag full of donations in with me. The money that purchased those items did not come from my pocket. God provides through His people over and over again.
So, friends, I am telling you today -- your offering is not too small. Your donations are nothing to be ashamed of; God will multiply what you give away. He sees your heart.
I'm guessing you already have some ideas of where you would like to give. Start there!
And if you aren't quite sure where you want to give, good news, I've got some ideas for you. {And I hope to post them soon, but probably not until after bedtime. When I'm done with that post, I'll link it here too.}
And now, Albertine. The video is sort of weird, but I really like to see lyrics when I listen to a new song, so that's why I embedded this one.
20 September 2013
high-fiving trees
I posted this little tidbit on Facebook last night:
I'm thinking she said it tongue in cheek, my heart immediately thought about the importance of marking his path with encouragement. Last night, he imagined the encouragement himself, and I pray that deep down he will always be able to find that encouragement within, from the Spirit that lives in him. I want him to run long distances, and I want him to know he is being cheered along the way. Always. Whether he's actually running or just living all out for Jesus. My heart wants him to run far.
It got me thinking about the 3rd assignment for Compassion International's blog month. (Remember the goal is to sponsor 3160 kiddos this month!) I picked this photo of this little boy because I think his timid expression speaks volumes.
This boy with the dirty, sideways shirt and the penetrating eyes. In so many ways, he is not unlike my boys. Or your children either. He just happens to have been born in a country that is stricken with poverty. The thing about poverty, this kind of poverty, is that it is hard to imagine for us North American folks. We prefer to kind of pretend like it doesn't exist, or worse, like its no big deal to "those people." Or you know, like its not our responsibility. Gross.
Here's the thing, though. That little guy, he is in need. Just look up at his face for a moment. Really look at him. He represents so many other little ones just like him. His parents love him desperately. They do what they can to provide for their family. He knows his parents love him, but the challenges he faces on a daily basis are difficult for him to bear.
He needs to know he can run long distances. He needs to know that he can set goals. He needs to imagine those high fives from his fans as he presses on toward his goals.
By choosing to sponsor a child, a world of hope is opened up to them. They receive medical care, healthy food + clean water, and an education. They also get introduced to Jesus. It is only $38 a month. Compassion International will provide the child you sponsor with enough to get through each day, and by doing so the whole family will benefit.
One of the absolute coolest things about sponsoring a child through Compassion International is the access you get to your sponsored child. You get to send him/her letters. You can send family photos and let your child know you are praying for him. Your words will be the branches his fingertips brush through as he runs the race marked out for him. Your letters offer hope in a very tangible way.
(If you follow along on a Compassion Bloggers trip, you find out how the children treasure these notes from their sponsors. You can read through past trip posts if you want to do some research. Click here. Grab a box of tissues if you do!)
The cool part? The children write you too. And you get pictures! We have seen the boy we sponsor grow up so much over the last-almost-4 years. His timid stare in the first photo has disappeared into a beaming smile. He has begun writing his letters himself and we watch his handwriting improve with each new letter. I still can't say for sure who is getting the most blessing out of this deal, us or him. We keep our notes and photos in a notebook, because they have become treasure to us as well.
I promise you, this is the best $38 a month you can spend. If you take your family out to dinner, you will likely spend close to this amount. Do your kids light up with hope as you walk out of the restaurant? Not usually, its just another meal. What about if you go to some sort of attraction and spend $38 on trinkets and souvenirs (or elephant ears, whatever), do these items become treasures for your children? Not likely.
I'm not saying going out to eat, or buying our kids trinkets is a bad thing. I'm just asking you to consider redirecting some of your funds in your budget from the-not-that-big-of-a-deal-column to the-awesomely-amazing-hope-giving-column. I'm telling you, you will not regret it.
I'm leaving you with a song. Because this is how I am wired and songs tangle-up in my thoughts ALL THE TIME. As I considered Walker high-fiving the trees, and my responsibility to make sure there are more trees along his path; as that morphed into thinking about our opportunity to "be the trees" that high-five Compassion kiddos, this song came to mind.
Went out for a couch-to-5K run with Walker tonight. It was a big milestone - 5 min warm-up, RUN 20 MIN. Up until now he has had walk breaks, so this was tough. He was fading around the 13 minute mark so I was trying my best to encourage him. He started reaching up & touching tree branches as we ran by... He says, "you know why I like to touch the trees?" Me: (no idea) "it cools you off?" guessing. He replies, "No, I imagine they're my fans giving me high fives along the way."
Man, I love that kid. And yes, he did run his 20 minutes. Like a boss - with lots of fans.My friend, Lisa, responded first, and her words made me get tears in my eyes and a catch in my throat almost immediately. And I wasn't quite sure why. She said, "Keep making sure you have trees in his path and he will run long distances."
I'm thinking she said it tongue in cheek, my heart immediately thought about the importance of marking his path with encouragement. Last night, he imagined the encouragement himself, and I pray that deep down he will always be able to find that encouragement within, from the Spirit that lives in him. I want him to run long distances, and I want him to know he is being cheered along the way. Always. Whether he's actually running or just living all out for Jesus. My heart wants him to run far.
It got me thinking about the 3rd assignment for Compassion International's blog month. (Remember the goal is to sponsor 3160 kiddos this month!) I picked this photo of this little boy because I think his timid expression speaks volumes.
This boy with the dirty, sideways shirt and the penetrating eyes. In so many ways, he is not unlike my boys. Or your children either. He just happens to have been born in a country that is stricken with poverty. The thing about poverty, this kind of poverty, is that it is hard to imagine for us North American folks. We prefer to kind of pretend like it doesn't exist, or worse, like its no big deal to "those people." Or you know, like its not our responsibility. Gross.
Here's the thing, though. That little guy, he is in need. Just look up at his face for a moment. Really look at him. He represents so many other little ones just like him. His parents love him desperately. They do what they can to provide for their family. He knows his parents love him, but the challenges he faces on a daily basis are difficult for him to bear.
He needs to know he can run long distances. He needs to know that he can set goals. He needs to imagine those high fives from his fans as he presses on toward his goals.
By choosing to sponsor a child, a world of hope is opened up to them. They receive medical care, healthy food + clean water, and an education. They also get introduced to Jesus. It is only $38 a month. Compassion International will provide the child you sponsor with enough to get through each day, and by doing so the whole family will benefit.
One of the absolute coolest things about sponsoring a child through Compassion International is the access you get to your sponsored child. You get to send him/her letters. You can send family photos and let your child know you are praying for him. Your words will be the branches his fingertips brush through as he runs the race marked out for him. Your letters offer hope in a very tangible way.
(If you follow along on a Compassion Bloggers trip, you find out how the children treasure these notes from their sponsors. You can read through past trip posts if you want to do some research. Click here. Grab a box of tissues if you do!)
The cool part? The children write you too. And you get pictures! We have seen the boy we sponsor grow up so much over the last-almost-4 years. His timid stare in the first photo has disappeared into a beaming smile. He has begun writing his letters himself and we watch his handwriting improve with each new letter. I still can't say for sure who is getting the most blessing out of this deal, us or him. We keep our notes and photos in a notebook, because they have become treasure to us as well.
I promise you, this is the best $38 a month you can spend. If you take your family out to dinner, you will likely spend close to this amount. Do your kids light up with hope as you walk out of the restaurant? Not usually, its just another meal. What about if you go to some sort of attraction and spend $38 on trinkets and souvenirs (or elephant ears, whatever), do these items become treasures for your children? Not likely.
I'm not saying going out to eat, or buying our kids trinkets is a bad thing. I'm just asking you to consider redirecting some of your funds in your budget from the-not-that-big-of-a-deal-column to the-awesomely-amazing-hope-giving-column. I'm telling you, you will not regret it.
I'm leaving you with a song. Because this is how I am wired and songs tangle-up in my thoughts ALL THE TIME. As I considered Walker high-fiving the trees, and my responsibility to make sure there are more trees along his path; as that morphed into thinking about our opportunity to "be the trees" that high-five Compassion kiddos, this song came to mind.
14 September 2013
3 things about hope
When Brad deployed the first time, there was a heated discussion in my Sunday School class about hope. One man was convinced that "hope" was weakness. Of course, in my emotionally-exhausted-state I could barely offer a counter argument without tears. I remember trying to explain that Hope was the very thing carrying me through each day. This encounter caused me to reflect and study up on the word hope.
When the second Compassion International Blog Month blogging assignment came to my inbox, I was pretty sure hope would be the word I picked. After a few days of marinating in my head and heart, it was confirmed.
When the second Compassion International Blog Month blogging assignment came to my inbox, I was pretty sure hope would be the word I picked. After a few days of marinating in my head and heart, it was confirmed.
1. Hope floats but its also an anchor. I know, its probably cheesy to allude to a Sandra Bullock movie in a post about Hope. I can't help it, that movie title is a good one. So often, hope is lighthearted and surrounded by happy thoughts. Think of the hopeful atmosphere at a graduation ceremony or a wedding ceremony or even a redeployment ceremony. Hope floats indeed. But its also an anchor. Its the thing that holds us steady when nothing in the world seems steady at all. It tethers us to Truth when everything around is tumbling apart.
We have this hope as an anchor for our lives, safe and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain. Jesus has entered there on our behalf as a forerunner, because He has become a high priest forever in the order of Melchizedek. - Hebrews 6:19-20 (HCSB)
We have this hope as an anchor for our lives, safe and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain. Jesus has entered there on our behalf as a forerunner, because He has become a high priest forever in the order of Melchizedek. - Hebrews 6:19-20 (HCSB)
2. Hope believes but it also expects. I think we often interchange the word "hope" with the word "wish". As Christians, though, Hope is so much more than wishing. Perhaps that misunderstanding in my Sunday School class years ago had to do with confusing hoping for wishing. They aren't the same. Hope is grounded in belief, built upon expectation. There is a precedence for the Hope we hold on to.
For in hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope; for who hopes for what he already sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it. - Romans 8:24-25 (NASB)
For in hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope; for who hopes for what he already sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it. - Romans 8:24-25 (NASB)
3. Hope can be given but it cannot be taken. This is perhaps the most exciting part about this little post today. We can give Hope. And this Hope we can give is the kind that changes lives forever and can never be taken away. It is the richest of gifts, and we, as believers, are so privileged to be able to share it. Compassion International is such an amazing organization to partner with because they not only meet basic needs, they introduce people to Jesus. They don't just provide clean water, they also point to the Living Water. They don't just serve healthy meals, they furnish spiritual nutrition through the Bread of Life. They don't simply administer basic medical care but also grant access to the Great Physician. They don't just rescue children from poverty, they do it Jesus' name.
There is a song by Bebo Norman called, "I'm Alright" the lyrics begin with this way ::
I have a little hope here in my pocket
Wanna share of it with you
Just be careful that you don't drop it
Don't worry if you do
We've got Hope in our pockets! We can share our hope with those that need it desperately. Its only $38 a month. I know, you immediately think, "We don't have an extra $38 a month." I get that. But I would encourage you to think about what "extras" you currently spend $38 on a month (cell phone? internet? soda? donuts?). Maybe you can find a way to move a couple items around in your budget to make room for giving some hope away. You will never regret it.
Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. - Romans 12:11-13 (NIV)
If you aren't sure where to start, one fun way to find a child to sponsor is by narrowing it down by a meaningful date, like your birthday! Go ahead and take a peek!
There is a song by Bebo Norman called, "I'm Alright" the lyrics begin with this way ::
I have a little hope here in my pocket
Wanna share of it with you
Just be careful that you don't drop it
Don't worry if you do
We've got Hope in our pockets! We can share our hope with those that need it desperately. Its only $38 a month. I know, you immediately think, "We don't have an extra $38 a month." I get that. But I would encourage you to think about what "extras" you currently spend $38 on a month (cell phone? internet? soda? donuts?). Maybe you can find a way to move a couple items around in your budget to make room for giving some hope away. You will never regret it.
Never be lacking in zeal, but keep your spiritual fervor, serving the Lord. Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer. Share with the Lord’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality. - Romans 12:11-13 (NIV)
If you aren't sure where to start, one fun way to find a child to sponsor is by narrowing it down by a meaningful date, like your birthday! Go ahead and take a peek!
10 September 2013
the dog incident
As you {might} know. Our big dog was attacked last week while I was jogging with her and the jogging stroller.
{P.S. GMA did a segment this week on #petselfie pics, and I might be slightly addicted. You can tell Koka is the least excited about this activity!}
Ok. On to the story.
See, the four of us have settled into somewhat of a sweet spot in our weekly routine. We would head out for a morning jog after the big boys are off to school. {Its important to add that I did try running before Brad left for work a couple times, and it was just crazy to be outside running before the sun came up.} Its still super hot here, so Muskoka was usually just running 2 miles and I was slowly inching her up to the 3 mile mark. I'd loop close to home so I could bring her in for water when she got hot - and usually grabbed a snack for the babies. {I do still call them that sometimes!}
I set the goal to run the Callaway 10k and was following my training plan so carefully. I ran over 60 miles in August. SIXTY! And it felt really good. It was the one part of our routine that was predictable.
My friend, Jana, had asked me to consider running the soldier half marathon with her. At first I laughed at the idea, but then as I looked over the training plans I realized it was totally doable. Brad looked over the plans with me last weekend too. He found the one he liked the best and I looked it over - pretty surprised that I was actually going to be able to train for a half marathon.
Last Monday, Labor Day, was my first official half-marathon training run. I felt pretty pumped up. Wilson and Walker were home from school, so I would be running my short loop up and down the nearby streets. I had to run 4 miles, two of them were to be at a pretty fast pace. I would be running 3 of my little loops.
I had my music on, my super-fast-running-skirt and my babies strapped in. I think Koka was picking up on my vibe and had her prance going pretty steady. I had to slow myself down for the warm-up half mile, reminding myself that I was going to run a fast mile here pretty soon. I think I was almost giddy. I was at the furthest point of my tiny loop when a lady was walking two dogs toward us - across the street from us. I run in the street {have you ever run with a double-jogging stroller on a sidewalk?}, Koka runs between me and the grass. I was about a quarter-mile in to my first fast mile. I kept pace and Koka kept on prancing. I vaguely remember hearing the lady calling her dog as we passed by. I kept my eyes forward.
Then I heard a somewhat panic-y yell, "She's off her leash!" And a big white dog ran from behind and stopped on the grass in front of Koka. They sniffed each other. I thought the owner was right behind me. The white dog jumped - moving its body toward the stroller but keeping its face toward Koka. Koka matched that jump putting herself squarely between the stroller and that dog. There was a growl. I grabbed closer onto the leash and scolded Koka. As I tugged her back, the other dog attacked.
No nipping. No barking. Full-on clamped jaws on Koka's neck. Then that dog would violently shake its head. I had a flashback to an AFV episode with dogs spinning on the ends of suspended ropes and Brad had told me something about how strong their jaws were. I screamed, "GET YOUR DOG!" She tried. She really did try to grab that dog. I think she may have even loosened its grip on Koka because the next time I looked it had its mouth on Koka's torso just behind her front leg instead of her neck. It was still violently shaking its head as it tore into my big dog's body.
I don't remember if Lincoln and Franklin were screaming. I don't think they were. I remember trying to steady the stroller because we were on a slight hill {and 60+ pounds on big wheels rolls super easy down a slight hill}.
I looked back at Koka. I remembered that Brad had always told me to just leave her if anything ever happened {I have encountered so many loose dogs in our neighborhood}. I knew I had to leave her, but I couldn't think rationally, so I didn't think to unclip the jogging leash from around my waist. As I looked at the jaws on her neck again, I knew I couldn't unclip her collar. At this point I think I started screaming "HELP!" I also think I screamed at the woman, "YOUR DOG IS KILLING MY DOG!" I remember thinking if I screamed loudly enough a soldier would come out and shoot that dog in the head.
I tipped the stroller backwards so it was resting on the brake and wouldn't roll anymore and I think I began to kick that dog. But I don't know for sure. I don't know if I closed my eyes, or if I am blocking it out. I just know that moments later I was facing the stroller and I heard a man yell, "WHERE IS YOUR LEASH?" to the other woman. His voice was steady but stern. I looked behind me and he had pinned that dog down somehow.
Koka ran over to me, shook her head and her collar slipped off. I pet her wet neck and told her to sit then slipped her collar back over her. She was panting so hard. I just wanted to fall over next to her, but somehow I didn't. She sat right by the stroller while I got the woman's contact information. I dropped my phone, my hands were shaking so badly. I didn't know if I needed to call the police right then or not. Brad was at work. I texted him the dog owner's contact info. After the woman walked away, the soldier that pinned the dog down told me I needed to call the MP's. I got his contact info too, just in case.
I called Brad. Tears started falling before he even answered. I honestly can't tell you what I said to him. Likely, "Koka was just attacked. I sent you the owner's contact info. My leg is bleeding. The boys are fine. Should I call the MP's?"
And his response was, "I'm on my way home, call the police."
I tried scrolling through my contacts on my phone and couldn't find the MP number. My hands were still shaking. I could see that woman walking about a block ahead of us. She kept bending over to deal with "that dog." I called Brad back and he said he'd call the MP's, and told me to apply pressure to Koka's wounds when I got home. I could see the bloody spots through her curly-cream hair. She seemed to be limping and kept looking at me as I sobbed.
Lincoln and Franklin kept asking, "what happened?" In stereo. Very dramatically.
As we walked up the driveway, I realized Wilson and Walker were probably going to be pretty scared too. I told them I needed their help. I laid a blanket out on our beige carpet - if our girl was going to die, it was going to be on carpet and not on the hard floor. {This is the sort of thing that rolls through my mind.} I couldn't apply pressure to all the spots so I just applied pressure on the spots with the most blood
. I didn't know who would arrive first - Brad or the cops.
I wasn't surprised that it was Brad. He ran in with his aid bag and bandaged up our big dog. He repeatedly said to me, "you did everything right. you did the right thing." Over and over.
The police came in asking "who got bit?" While we were explaining everything to them, an ambulance rolled up and the paramedics ran in, "Who was bit?"
The paramedics did clean up my leg - at that point I didn't know why it was bleeding. {Later, I figured out that I cut it open while trying to prop the stroller on my foot to keep it from rolling.} They decided it did not look like a bite, but offered me a ride to the hospital in the ambulance. I declined.
I won't continue with the play-by-play. I'll tell you that the dog owner's contact information was correct, her husband also came home from work. The dog was up to date on its shot and had no history of aggression. Muskoka got 14 staples in about 5 different spots along with a few smaller puncture wounds. The owners have paid her initial vet bill and have promised to pay the next bill as well {when she gets the staples out}.
I figured out a day or two later that my right arm felt like it had been wrung around a tree a few times. I went for a run last Wednesday morning. My arm was sore, but it really hurt whenever I tried to actually push the stroller. I thought I should get it checked out after that. My doctor thought it was related to past shoulder problems so she gave me a sling, a bag of medicine, and referred me to physical therapy. I went back this week because my fingers had been swelling and the pain is not isolated to my shoulder even though I am taking all my meds regularly. She sent me for a bunch of xrays and gave me a wrist brace as well. It basically hurts if I use my right arm for anything. But it is improving {no word on the xrays which tells me they are probably normal}. Today, I was actually hopeful that I might be able to run again soon. Not train-for-a-half-marathon soon, but possibly-reach-that-10-k-goal soon
I've replayed this so many times. I've wondered what I could've or should've done differently. I've pondered what the scene must have looked like to the two soldiers that came and helped. I've rehashed the story with Lincoln and Franklin every morning since and often after naptime too - every time they notice Koka's sores again. I've babied our dumb dog more than ever before. {And I mean dumb in a super loving way}. {See? She's all tucked in at the foot of our bed. Super loving.}
I wonder what the lesson is in this for me.
I think I might know. "That dog" lives behind us. We can see its yard from our kitchen and dining room. For days, whenever I looked out and saw it, I was filled with anger. I'm just so mad that the whole thing happened. I am so mad that my arm hurts so badly. Meanwhile, "that dog" just plays in its yard, while we keep ours inside to heal.
Wilson told me I can't hold a grudge against a dog. I kind of laughed it off. I don't think there is anything in the bible about not holding a grudge against a dog.
But the thing is, a grudge is a grudge. Its like that expression that says "unforgiveness is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies." The bible actually does have a lot to say about unforgiveness - and definitely a lot to say about anger too.
"Be angry and yet do not sin, do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not give the devil an opportunity." -Ephesians 4:26-27
So, wait? I can't just be angry about this day after day?
The ugly feelings that keep erupting when I see that dog need to go. Yesterday, I felt a nudge to think of something I am grateful for every time I see "that dog."
Today, I realize that I need to also think of something I am grateful for every time I use my arm - because the deep ache in it is a doorway to those ugly thoughts too.
Do you have a "that dog" or a deep ache that serves as a gateway to ugly thoughts? Let's kick them out with gratefulness! We can do this, and it would be so much better to do it together!
{P.S. GMA did a segment this week on #petselfie pics, and I might be slightly addicted. You can tell Koka is the least excited about this activity!}
Ok. On to the story.
See, the four of us have settled into somewhat of a sweet spot in our weekly routine. We would head out for a morning jog after the big boys are off to school. {Its important to add that I did try running before Brad left for work a couple times, and it was just crazy to be outside running before the sun came up.} Its still super hot here, so Muskoka was usually just running 2 miles and I was slowly inching her up to the 3 mile mark. I'd loop close to home so I could bring her in for water when she got hot - and usually grabbed a snack for the babies. {I do still call them that sometimes!}
I set the goal to run the Callaway 10k and was following my training plan so carefully. I ran over 60 miles in August. SIXTY! And it felt really good. It was the one part of our routine that was predictable.
My friend, Jana, had asked me to consider running the soldier half marathon with her. At first I laughed at the idea, but then as I looked over the training plans I realized it was totally doable. Brad looked over the plans with me last weekend too. He found the one he liked the best and I looked it over - pretty surprised that I was actually going to be able to train for a half marathon.
Last Monday, Labor Day, was my first official half-marathon training run. I felt pretty pumped up. Wilson and Walker were home from school, so I would be running my short loop up and down the nearby streets. I had to run 4 miles, two of them were to be at a pretty fast pace. I would be running 3 of my little loops.
I had my music on, my super-fast-running-skirt and my babies strapped in. I think Koka was picking up on my vibe and had her prance going pretty steady. I had to slow myself down for the warm-up half mile, reminding myself that I was going to run a fast mile here pretty soon. I think I was almost giddy. I was at the furthest point of my tiny loop when a lady was walking two dogs toward us - across the street from us. I run in the street {have you ever run with a double-jogging stroller on a sidewalk?}, Koka runs between me and the grass. I was about a quarter-mile in to my first fast mile. I kept pace and Koka kept on prancing. I vaguely remember hearing the lady calling her dog as we passed by. I kept my eyes forward.
Then I heard a somewhat panic-y yell, "She's off her leash!" And a big white dog ran from behind and stopped on the grass in front of Koka. They sniffed each other. I thought the owner was right behind me. The white dog jumped - moving its body toward the stroller but keeping its face toward Koka. Koka matched that jump putting herself squarely between the stroller and that dog. There was a growl. I grabbed closer onto the leash and scolded Koka. As I tugged her back, the other dog attacked.
No nipping. No barking. Full-on clamped jaws on Koka's neck. Then that dog would violently shake its head. I had a flashback to an AFV episode with dogs spinning on the ends of suspended ropes and Brad had told me something about how strong their jaws were. I screamed, "GET YOUR DOG!" She tried. She really did try to grab that dog. I think she may have even loosened its grip on Koka because the next time I looked it had its mouth on Koka's torso just behind her front leg instead of her neck. It was still violently shaking its head as it tore into my big dog's body.
I don't remember if Lincoln and Franklin were screaming. I don't think they were. I remember trying to steady the stroller because we were on a slight hill {and 60+ pounds on big wheels rolls super easy down a slight hill}.
I looked back at Koka. I remembered that Brad had always told me to just leave her if anything ever happened {I have encountered so many loose dogs in our neighborhood}. I knew I had to leave her, but I couldn't think rationally, so I didn't think to unclip the jogging leash from around my waist. As I looked at the jaws on her neck again, I knew I couldn't unclip her collar. At this point I think I started screaming "HELP!" I also think I screamed at the woman, "YOUR DOG IS KILLING MY DOG!" I remember thinking if I screamed loudly enough a soldier would come out and shoot that dog in the head.
I tipped the stroller backwards so it was resting on the brake and wouldn't roll anymore and I think I began to kick that dog. But I don't know for sure. I don't know if I closed my eyes, or if I am blocking it out. I just know that moments later I was facing the stroller and I heard a man yell, "WHERE IS YOUR LEASH?" to the other woman. His voice was steady but stern. I looked behind me and he had pinned that dog down somehow.
Koka ran over to me, shook her head and her collar slipped off. I pet her wet neck and told her to sit then slipped her collar back over her. She was panting so hard. I just wanted to fall over next to her, but somehow I didn't. She sat right by the stroller while I got the woman's contact information. I dropped my phone, my hands were shaking so badly. I didn't know if I needed to call the police right then or not. Brad was at work. I texted him the dog owner's contact info. After the woman walked away, the soldier that pinned the dog down told me I needed to call the MP's. I got his contact info too, just in case.
I called Brad. Tears started falling before he even answered. I honestly can't tell you what I said to him. Likely, "Koka was just attacked. I sent you the owner's contact info. My leg is bleeding. The boys are fine. Should I call the MP's?"
And his response was, "I'm on my way home, call the police."
I tried scrolling through my contacts on my phone and couldn't find the MP number. My hands were still shaking. I could see that woman walking about a block ahead of us. She kept bending over to deal with "that dog." I called Brad back and he said he'd call the MP's, and told me to apply pressure to Koka's wounds when I got home. I could see the bloody spots through her curly-cream hair. She seemed to be limping and kept looking at me as I sobbed.
Lincoln and Franklin kept asking, "what happened?" In stereo. Very dramatically.
As we walked up the driveway, I realized Wilson and Walker were probably going to be pretty scared too. I told them I needed their help. I laid a blanket out on our beige carpet - if our girl was going to die, it was going to be on carpet and not on the hard floor. {This is the sort of thing that rolls through my mind.} I couldn't apply pressure to all the spots so I just applied pressure on the spots with the most blood
. I didn't know who would arrive first - Brad or the cops.
I wasn't surprised that it was Brad. He ran in with his aid bag and bandaged up our big dog. He repeatedly said to me, "you did everything right. you did the right thing." Over and over.
The police came in asking "who got bit?" While we were explaining everything to them, an ambulance rolled up and the paramedics ran in, "Who was bit?"
The paramedics did clean up my leg - at that point I didn't know why it was bleeding. {Later, I figured out that I cut it open while trying to prop the stroller on my foot to keep it from rolling.} They decided it did not look like a bite, but offered me a ride to the hospital in the ambulance. I declined.
I won't continue with the play-by-play. I'll tell you that the dog owner's contact information was correct, her husband also came home from work. The dog was up to date on its shot and had no history of aggression. Muskoka got 14 staples in about 5 different spots along with a few smaller puncture wounds. The owners have paid her initial vet bill and have promised to pay the next bill as well {when she gets the staples out}.
I figured out a day or two later that my right arm felt like it had been wrung around a tree a few times. I went for a run last Wednesday morning. My arm was sore, but it really hurt whenever I tried to actually push the stroller. I thought I should get it checked out after that. My doctor thought it was related to past shoulder problems so she gave me a sling, a bag of medicine, and referred me to physical therapy. I went back this week because my fingers had been swelling and the pain is not isolated to my shoulder even though I am taking all my meds regularly. She sent me for a bunch of xrays and gave me a wrist brace as well. It basically hurts if I use my right arm for anything. But it is improving {no word on the xrays which tells me they are probably normal}. Today, I was actually hopeful that I might be able to run again soon. Not train-for-a-half-marathon soon, but possibly-reach-that-10-k-goal soon
I've replayed this so many times. I've wondered what I could've or should've done differently. I've pondered what the scene must have looked like to the two soldiers that came and helped. I've rehashed the story with Lincoln and Franklin every morning since and often after naptime too - every time they notice Koka's sores again. I've babied our dumb dog more than ever before. {And I mean dumb in a super loving way}. {See? She's all tucked in at the foot of our bed. Super loving.}
I wonder what the lesson is in this for me.
I think I might know. "That dog" lives behind us. We can see its yard from our kitchen and dining room. For days, whenever I looked out and saw it, I was filled with anger. I'm just so mad that the whole thing happened. I am so mad that my arm hurts so badly. Meanwhile, "that dog" just plays in its yard, while we keep ours inside to heal.
Wilson told me I can't hold a grudge against a dog. I kind of laughed it off. I don't think there is anything in the bible about not holding a grudge against a dog.
But the thing is, a grudge is a grudge. Its like that expression that says "unforgiveness is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies." The bible actually does have a lot to say about unforgiveness - and definitely a lot to say about anger too.
"Be angry and yet do not sin, do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not give the devil an opportunity." -Ephesians 4:26-27
So, wait? I can't just be angry about this day after day?
The ugly feelings that keep erupting when I see that dog need to go. Yesterday, I felt a nudge to think of something I am grateful for every time I see "that dog."
Today, I realize that I need to also think of something I am grateful for every time I use my arm - because the deep ache in it is a doorway to those ugly thoughts too.
Do you have a "that dog" or a deep ache that serves as a gateway to ugly thoughts? Let's kick them out with gratefulness! We can do this, and it would be so much better to do it together!
08 September 2013
note to {my childhood} self
I am participating in Compassion International's Blog Month. The goal is to have 3,160 new children sponsored this month. Feel free to click through any of the links to find out more about sponsoring a child. You aren't committing to anything by checking it out. Promise!
The first assignment was to write a blog post to my childhood self. I wanted to think it over a day or so... then we had "the dog incident" and my arm has been a mess ever since. But this afternoon, I realized what my childhood self needs to hear. {And likely my adult self needs to hear it too, maybe you too?}
Listen up, Mandy. I need to tell you something. It comes from a place of adoration. So I'm going to whisper it to your little girl heart.
Not everything in your world will make sense. Things will happen that your little head cannot understand and your little heart won't have a clue what to do with all the feelings. You'll try to figure you out. You'll try to shove it away. Its OK. The good news is, God will work it all out for good.
I know that sounds a little too simple. But I am looking at it from this side -from 30 years down the road. And I can tell you that God has woven such a beautiful life for you out of those hard things you didn't understand. He brings peace to places you wouldn't guess, and heals hurts you were afraid to talk about. He really does work all things out for good. Often its the things we really have a hard time understanding that turn out to be such a beautiful piece of the picture.
The thing about this Truth, is that it keeps building throughout your life. So I, Amanda, can look back at you, Mandy; and be encouraged even now. I've seen all the good work God has done up to this point, I've seen how He has worked out details that no one could have predicted. So I know looking forward that He will continue this good work of His now.
Even when things happen that my head cannot understand and my heart doesn't have a clue what to do with all the feelings.
He is always good.
P.S. I feel its important to add, though, that the matching outfits with your sister don't last much longer. Keep smiling, its not forever kiddo!
The first assignment was to write a blog post to my childhood self. I wanted to think it over a day or so... then we had "the dog incident" and my arm has been a mess ever since. But this afternoon, I realized what my childhood self needs to hear. {And likely my adult self needs to hear it too, maybe you too?}
Listen up, Mandy. I need to tell you something. It comes from a place of adoration. So I'm going to whisper it to your little girl heart.
Not everything in your world will make sense. Things will happen that your little head cannot understand and your little heart won't have a clue what to do with all the feelings. You'll try to figure you out. You'll try to shove it away. Its OK. The good news is, God will work it all out for good.
I know that sounds a little too simple. But I am looking at it from this side -from 30 years down the road. And I can tell you that God has woven such a beautiful life for you out of those hard things you didn't understand. He brings peace to places you wouldn't guess, and heals hurts you were afraid to talk about. He really does work all things out for good. Often its the things we really have a hard time understanding that turn out to be such a beautiful piece of the picture.
The thing about this Truth, is that it keeps building throughout your life. So I, Amanda, can look back at you, Mandy; and be encouraged even now. I've seen all the good work God has done up to this point, I've seen how He has worked out details that no one could have predicted. So I know looking forward that He will continue this good work of His now.
Even when things happen that my head cannot understand and my heart doesn't have a clue what to do with all the feelings.
He is always good.
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28
P.S. I feel its important to add, though, that the matching outfits with your sister don't last much longer. Keep smiling, its not forever kiddo!
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