Zella refers to every occasion, event, holiday, etc. as "___ time". The last few weeks as we've been out and about she has noticed that Easter time is on its way. Easter this year has been a little different for our family. It means a little more and the kids are a little older and they've started asking questions. And more importantly, they've started listening when we answer. But so in the last few weeks the puzzle pieces have started to form. I'm not saying I've connected any of the pieces, but I'm starting to see that all of these pieces might actually go to the same puzzle.
We were in the grocery store one day and Zella started talking about Easter. I asked her if she knew the real reason that we celebrate Easter and she gave me her "go-to church kid" answer......"Its Jesus' birthday". As we shopped, I started explaining to her.....Palm Sunday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday. I wasn't being loud. I was leaned over close to her as I pushed the cart and she sat face to face with me with her eyes huge with wonder. I could have been Cinderella talking the way she was looking at me. Like she was in love with the story of a man that died for her. A man that's madly in love with her. I can see it in her. She's smitten. I talked through the whole shopping trip. Feeding her more. And I was getting scowls from passers by. And I kept talking. But it hit me that day......this is the world I'm raising these kids in. A world where I get scowls for what a lot of people say is polluting kids' minds. What am I polluting them with? Hope? Then I will keep on contaminating. Day in and day out I will add to the sludge in their minds that I strategically concoct with joy and discipline and selflessness and servanthood and love and faith and hope.
I was painting tonight and I thought back to the first painting that I sold. It was an anchor, painted on a cutting board. "This hope we have as anchor for the soul is both strong and steadfast." Hebrews 6:19. That was the first fundraising effort we made for adoption. God knew. He knew that one day, in my seeming hopelessness, I would remember that. He knew that He would bring us full circle.....from selling the painting to someone who needed a reminder of hope, in an effort to bring hope to a child. all the way around to needing hope that He is strong and steadfast and will complete His work in us. He delivered on that this last week. You know, it's hard for a lot of people to understand why adoption is hard. I think sometimes people assume that these children will feel rescued and look at us like we are their heroes. And it's just not like that. Regardless of the conditions that any adopted child was living in at the time of adoption, they're still being torn from their familiar environment. They are still being taken away from the only people they know. They are still being thrown into a new environment with expectations and people oohing and aahing over them and new sights and smells and sounds. They are still, at any age. having to completely reframe every part of their mentality. They have to learn to trust at a very basic level and depending on the circumstances and background that can take a very long time. And the families that are fighting through these trust issues are literally in the trenches. They wake up every morning ready to go to war because that's what it is. It's war against a world that scowls at us when we tell our kids about Jesus in the grocery store. Its war against an enemy that used someone to destroy a child. Its war against the lies spoken over that child that the enemy reminds them of every single day. And there are GREAT days. There are also hopeless days. Days when Jesus is all we have left. No tears. No sweat. No want to. Nothing left but Jesus. And hope. We have hope, because of Jesus. And that's enough. That's enough to get up tomorrow and fight again. Because what we are delivering, and running on, is the same product. Hope. Last Sunday we were driving to church and I look in the mirror and Zella and David both had their hands raised and eyes closed just lost in worship music. I turned it down and because I know that nobody had ever explained it to him, I asked him "David, do you know why we lift our hands when we sing these songs?" and his very quiet voice responded, "yes ma'am. Because we are singing to God and reaching for Him." I turned the music back up and let the little tear run down my face in silence. I screw up. I am NOT "the hands and feet of Jesus" to this child every day. I have asked God so many times why He chose us to fight this battle. And He has reminded me SO many times, He has already won this battle, LET HIM FIGHT FOR ME. And listening to David say that, it just reminded me of Gods power. Of the pure, raw power of hope. That just tiny little doses can be more hope than one person has ever had. That just hearing the name of Jesus can start to melt a stone cold heart. I held onto that this week. And needed it.....badly today.
That's the way this parenting stuff works. We have good days and bad days and days where our kids just absolutely hate us and days where they want to be our BFF and that's just the way the dice roll. Zella has this new thing that she does with Cole where he will talk to her and she will completely ignore him. And she's pretty strong because she will hold out for up to an hour and he gets fuming mad. I've never seen him as angry as he was today with her. It happened right before we were getting in the car to run some errands and when I got in the car I saw that he had his Bible in his lap. I asked what he was reading and he said he was looking up scripture about anger. (I'm totally cheesy smiling right now. Proud mama!). And him looking up that scripture led into some questions about theology that are pretty deep for an 8 year old but that also prove to me that having him sit in and listen to the sermon with us on Sundays is super beneficial. He was asking questions about the Trinity and about God's "bigness" and to each answer their was a follow-up question. He asked me "I just don't understand, if Jesus walked on the earth, and people could see Him, how could they still not believe?" And I thought back to our Pastors Good Friday service sermon. He said something like this........there's all this talk about whether or not Jesus died on the cross. Did he walk the earth? and the thing is that people don't want to believe in Jesus because if they admit that He died for them (and He did), they will owe Him their life. And I brought that up to Cole and he retorted with "but how can we die for Jesus?" and I looked in the mirror and saw David, in his seat, furiously angry. The scowl on his face was just plain ugly and mean and I could feel the crossbars on my shoulders. And before I could answer, Cole said "is that kind of what it means in Luke that Pastor Jamie talked about where it says to take up your cross daily?" Oh sweet boy. Yes. And that was my hope. That I have felt like an absolute failure of a mother in the last several months. But you know what? God has my back. He's still working in these kids. And isn't this my commission? He's still walking me through it every step of the way and proving to me that I'm not totally failing. The song "Children of God" was playing and Zella was lost again as the words sang "we are the saints, we are the children, we've been redeemed, we've been forgiven, we are the sons and daughters of our God". I felt like God poked me and said "just hold on". And I know what He meant. He meant to let Him work. He meant to keep praying over David even on the days when he has been mean or hateful and on the days when he's happy and being a 5 year old little boy. God meant to let Him fight this battle. My hope is in Him. And He will bring us full circle. These past few says, at Easter time, God has reminded me that He, however many years ago (my Bible knowledge needs a little refresher) He crushed the head of the enemy under His heel at Easter time. That He defeated death. That He died that I might have life to the fullest. And not just me. The scowlers. The Davids and the ladies at the grocery store with "I'm judging you" written all over their faces. Everyone. And that is hope. That is the anchor. And it is both strong and steadfast. My prayer is to be not just a taker of that hope, but a deliverer as well.
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Job
I've been hesitant to write this. Very often when I write or post or blog or even speak about certain things, the devil uses those very things against me. He is predictably awful. I know its coming....and it still knocks the wind out of me. At the risk of being derailed, I'm sharing this anyways. Maybe someone needs it today. I know I can use it every day.
It's no secret that I have struggled in the last few months. Please, if you're reading this, don't interpret that to mean that there have been no good days. Of course there are good days and good times and memories and laughter and jokes. We are not without hope or joy or light over here. BUT, we are very much battling. And being in the trenches sometimes means that those jokes and the laughter and the joy, those things don't carry us as far as they might if our circumstances were more desirable. Through every trial, God is revealing to us that His desire is for us to have those things, joy, hope, laughter, in spite of our circumstances. And for our circumstances to be superficial while our faith that the seasons will soon change again, is deeper and unwaivering. We have found that through each trial, God is revealing His power to us, by revealing to us our weaknesses.
Monday morning was challenging for me. I struggle so much in the mornings with the kids. Zella NEVER stops talking. EVER. Cole dances and sings and the hand motions.....its like a stage performance of Fame every morning in our house. It is not possible to dress yourself, eat breakfast, brush teeth and walk the dog while performing said routines. Just sayin. And David moves at the speed of smell with intention. If I gave him 7 hours to eat breakfast and get dressed, it would not be enough time. So I read that blog about the mom that swore she would never ever again tell her free spirited daughter to hurry up or move quickly. I am not that mom. I am married to Jake. Marine Jake. And in this family, we are on time. Early is on time and on time is late. Being tardy to school is not an option. So there is a lot of "please try and move quickly......I'm setting the timer for you to eat breakfast......please turn your body away from the mirror so that you can brush your teeth instead of watching yourself dance.....please put your shoes on......please put your shoes on.....WHYYYYY are your shoes STILL not on?....." and around and around we go. EVERY morning I wake up and spend a little time with Jesus and sip my coffee and say "I am refreshed! Today is going to be a GREAT day!" and then the kids wake up and that optimism is completely shot within a 45 minute window. And the common denominator. Its me. Ouch. It's totally me. The kids haven't changed. They are actually protesting change. I'm the one that has grown less patient and a lot louder and maybe not as chipper in the mornings. And so how do I fix me? I have to figure out the problem and go from there, right? The problem is control. That I can't stand and it makes my skin crawl that I can't manipulate their tiny little bodies to move at the pace I am requiring of them. It drives me insane that they are just as independent as I am (wait.....didn't I pray for that once?). I have a problem with control. So Monday morning, Jake took the boys to school and I opened my Bible. I had NO idea where the Lord was leading me and its a very rare occasion that I just say "show me what you have for me in here". But on Monday, I did. I was too worn out to even have a plan. And the Lord led me to the book of Job.
I know this story. Who doesn't know the story of Job. Greatest man in all the land. Blameless. Supremely blessed. Satan approached the Lord after wandering the earth and he asked about Job. He asked God if Job feared Him for just reason or not because he had been SO blessed by the Lord. God had never taken anything away from him, how could he truly fear and honor God when only good things had happened to him. So the Lord allowed Job to be tested. But this is not the part of the story that I felt led to on Monday. Chapter 38 the Lord speaks to Job "out of the storm". Chapters 38, 39 and the beginning of Chapter 40 are God speaking to Job of His great works. He details the majesty and wonder of His perfect creation.....
"where were you when I laid the earths foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone - while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy? Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from its womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place, when I said 'This far you may come and farther; here is where your proud waves halt'? "Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place, that it might take the earth by the edges and shake the wicked out of it?" Job 38:8-12
There is so much more past these verses. Keep reading. I felt like a kid again. The imagery and intricate detail and beauty.....its all there. And God is reminding Job of the things He has done, to lead to this......"Do you have an arm like Gods, and can your voice thunder like His? Then adorn yourself with glory and splendor, and clothe yourself in honor and majesty. Unleash the fury of your wrath, look at every proud man and bring him low, look at every proud man and humble him, crush the wicked where they stand. Bury them all in the dust together; shroud their faces in the grave. Then, I myself will admit to you that your own right hand can save you." Job 40:9-14
God led me to this scripture to remind me......my own desire for control is STUPID. Why would I not want the creator of the universe to have control when He alone, can save me. I am powerless without Him. My own right hand is useless to me, if it isn't holding His. HE alone can crush the wicked. He alone would become a man and redeem me through death on a cross and HE alone, would subsequently crush evil under His heal. I can do none of those things. Who am I? I am loved. I am fought for. I am upheld by the same God that gave the stallion its mane. The same God that threw things into orbit and put snow caps on the mountains. The same God that created me in my mothers womb and knit me together perfectly. The same God that knit my children together, perfectly, in all of their slowness. I must allow God to control my life, so that my children will know that it is not Mom or Dad or themselves that must control their lives, but God. I must exhibit humility and surrender, in order for them to exhibit the same character.
Touche, God. Touche.
It's no secret that I have struggled in the last few months. Please, if you're reading this, don't interpret that to mean that there have been no good days. Of course there are good days and good times and memories and laughter and jokes. We are not without hope or joy or light over here. BUT, we are very much battling. And being in the trenches sometimes means that those jokes and the laughter and the joy, those things don't carry us as far as they might if our circumstances were more desirable. Through every trial, God is revealing to us that His desire is for us to have those things, joy, hope, laughter, in spite of our circumstances. And for our circumstances to be superficial while our faith that the seasons will soon change again, is deeper and unwaivering. We have found that through each trial, God is revealing His power to us, by revealing to us our weaknesses.
Monday morning was challenging for me. I struggle so much in the mornings with the kids. Zella NEVER stops talking. EVER. Cole dances and sings and the hand motions.....its like a stage performance of Fame every morning in our house. It is not possible to dress yourself, eat breakfast, brush teeth and walk the dog while performing said routines. Just sayin. And David moves at the speed of smell with intention. If I gave him 7 hours to eat breakfast and get dressed, it would not be enough time. So I read that blog about the mom that swore she would never ever again tell her free spirited daughter to hurry up or move quickly. I am not that mom. I am married to Jake. Marine Jake. And in this family, we are on time. Early is on time and on time is late. Being tardy to school is not an option. So there is a lot of "please try and move quickly......I'm setting the timer for you to eat breakfast......please turn your body away from the mirror so that you can brush your teeth instead of watching yourself dance.....please put your shoes on......please put your shoes on.....WHYYYYY are your shoes STILL not on?....." and around and around we go. EVERY morning I wake up and spend a little time with Jesus and sip my coffee and say "I am refreshed! Today is going to be a GREAT day!" and then the kids wake up and that optimism is completely shot within a 45 minute window. And the common denominator. Its me. Ouch. It's totally me. The kids haven't changed. They are actually protesting change. I'm the one that has grown less patient and a lot louder and maybe not as chipper in the mornings. And so how do I fix me? I have to figure out the problem and go from there, right? The problem is control. That I can't stand and it makes my skin crawl that I can't manipulate their tiny little bodies to move at the pace I am requiring of them. It drives me insane that they are just as independent as I am (wait.....didn't I pray for that once?). I have a problem with control. So Monday morning, Jake took the boys to school and I opened my Bible. I had NO idea where the Lord was leading me and its a very rare occasion that I just say "show me what you have for me in here". But on Monday, I did. I was too worn out to even have a plan. And the Lord led me to the book of Job.
I know this story. Who doesn't know the story of Job. Greatest man in all the land. Blameless. Supremely blessed. Satan approached the Lord after wandering the earth and he asked about Job. He asked God if Job feared Him for just reason or not because he had been SO blessed by the Lord. God had never taken anything away from him, how could he truly fear and honor God when only good things had happened to him. So the Lord allowed Job to be tested. But this is not the part of the story that I felt led to on Monday. Chapter 38 the Lord speaks to Job "out of the storm". Chapters 38, 39 and the beginning of Chapter 40 are God speaking to Job of His great works. He details the majesty and wonder of His perfect creation.....
"where were you when I laid the earths foundation? Tell me, if you understand. Who marked off its dimensions? Surely you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? On what were its footings set, or who laid its cornerstone - while the morning stars sang together and all the angels shouted for joy? Who shut up the sea behind doors when it burst forth from its womb, when I made the clouds its garment and wrapped it in thick darkness, when I fixed limits for it and set its doors and bars in place, when I said 'This far you may come and farther; here is where your proud waves halt'? "Have you ever given orders to the morning, or shown the dawn its place, that it might take the earth by the edges and shake the wicked out of it?" Job 38:8-12
There is so much more past these verses. Keep reading. I felt like a kid again. The imagery and intricate detail and beauty.....its all there. And God is reminding Job of the things He has done, to lead to this......"Do you have an arm like Gods, and can your voice thunder like His? Then adorn yourself with glory and splendor, and clothe yourself in honor and majesty. Unleash the fury of your wrath, look at every proud man and bring him low, look at every proud man and humble him, crush the wicked where they stand. Bury them all in the dust together; shroud their faces in the grave. Then, I myself will admit to you that your own right hand can save you." Job 40:9-14
God led me to this scripture to remind me......my own desire for control is STUPID. Why would I not want the creator of the universe to have control when He alone, can save me. I am powerless without Him. My own right hand is useless to me, if it isn't holding His. HE alone can crush the wicked. He alone would become a man and redeem me through death on a cross and HE alone, would subsequently crush evil under His heal. I can do none of those things. Who am I? I am loved. I am fought for. I am upheld by the same God that gave the stallion its mane. The same God that threw things into orbit and put snow caps on the mountains. The same God that created me in my mothers womb and knit me together perfectly. The same God that knit my children together, perfectly, in all of their slowness. I must allow God to control my life, so that my children will know that it is not Mom or Dad or themselves that must control their lives, but God. I must exhibit humility and surrender, in order for them to exhibit the same character.
Touche, God. Touche.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Oily.
This has been one of those weeks. One of those weeks that I started off completely unsuspecting of the trauma that would unfold. One of those weeks that I realized, for the buzillionth time, the hugeness of the battle we all fight every day.
This post will be pretty short and sweet tonight. There's no way to fluff it up or sugar coat. We are all fighting the devil. Every single soul you see is fighting a battle. I forget sometimes how hard he is willing to fight. I forget sometimes to recognize what I'm fighting and call it like it is. He wants you. He wants your marriage. He wants your spouse. He covets your husbands. They are leading your home aren't they? Take down the leader and the rest will follow is his theory. He wants you, moms. He drools over the idea of you throwing in the towel with that one child of yours that presses your every single button every single day. He lusts over you trusting your "good child" so much that you loose the reins too much. And he wants those children. He wants the small ones and the big ones. Red, yellow, black and white. He wants them young and he wants them old. We focus on this army that Jesus is building. There is an army rising up! And as parents we have on repeat in our minds "train a child up in the way he should go and he will never depart from it". And we forget.....there is another army being formed. There are souls being won for the greater evil and not the greater good. He wants you. He wants every tiny Jesus loving part of you.
Husbands, put on your fight faces. Battle that battle for the woman you fell in love with however long ago. Date her. Make her fall in love again. Tell her she's the most beautiful girl in the world. Dads, load up your spiritual weapons for your kids. They look to you for the weapons for their own arsenals. Show them the tools they need to go to war. Fight, wives. Fight hard. Pray over your husbands. Lay hands on him as he sleeps, as he drives, as he worships in church on Sunday mornings. Moms, fight. Fight like you always wanted to be fought for. Fight because you love them enough to fight for them. Fight because if you don't do it.....no one will. You are their example. You are the glue until they can stand firm enough on Jesus to let Him be the glue. Walk through your house and anoint every door with oil. (Here's a helpful link and Biblical reference on anointing with oil.... http://ag.org/top/Beliefs/topics/gendoct_12_sick.cfm ) Remind ol' devil where he belongs. When you rise in the morning, remind him, ain't nobody got time for you today, devil! Get under my feet!
Fighting is hard. I don't know about ya'll but I'm exhausted. I can write this tonight because I fought all week long. I feel like I've been fighting for weeks on end. I've been fighting myself. Because I was too prideful to recognize who I was really fighting, to lay it all down, and find peace and rest in knowing, the end battle is won. Jesus paid it all.
When I wake up tomorrow, I will put on my armor. And walk my family through fire with oily hands and crazy worship hands and hands laid all over them in prayer. We're all in this fight. Every last one of us. Claim victory over the enemy in your house today. He comes to destroy you. Remind him of who will crush his head under His heel.
***Side Note: find Praise Assembly of God, Beaufort, SC on Facebook. Tomorrow, the sermon from today should be posted. Watch it. Pastor Jamie brought the word with passion!***
This post will be pretty short and sweet tonight. There's no way to fluff it up or sugar coat. We are all fighting the devil. Every single soul you see is fighting a battle. I forget sometimes how hard he is willing to fight. I forget sometimes to recognize what I'm fighting and call it like it is. He wants you. He wants your marriage. He wants your spouse. He covets your husbands. They are leading your home aren't they? Take down the leader and the rest will follow is his theory. He wants you, moms. He drools over the idea of you throwing in the towel with that one child of yours that presses your every single button every single day. He lusts over you trusting your "good child" so much that you loose the reins too much. And he wants those children. He wants the small ones and the big ones. Red, yellow, black and white. He wants them young and he wants them old. We focus on this army that Jesus is building. There is an army rising up! And as parents we have on repeat in our minds "train a child up in the way he should go and he will never depart from it". And we forget.....there is another army being formed. There are souls being won for the greater evil and not the greater good. He wants you. He wants every tiny Jesus loving part of you.
Husbands, put on your fight faces. Battle that battle for the woman you fell in love with however long ago. Date her. Make her fall in love again. Tell her she's the most beautiful girl in the world. Dads, load up your spiritual weapons for your kids. They look to you for the weapons for their own arsenals. Show them the tools they need to go to war. Fight, wives. Fight hard. Pray over your husbands. Lay hands on him as he sleeps, as he drives, as he worships in church on Sunday mornings. Moms, fight. Fight like you always wanted to be fought for. Fight because you love them enough to fight for them. Fight because if you don't do it.....no one will. You are their example. You are the glue until they can stand firm enough on Jesus to let Him be the glue. Walk through your house and anoint every door with oil. (Here's a helpful link and Biblical reference on anointing with oil.... http://ag.org/top/Beliefs/topics/gendoct_12_sick.cfm ) Remind ol' devil where he belongs. When you rise in the morning, remind him, ain't nobody got time for you today, devil! Get under my feet!
Fighting is hard. I don't know about ya'll but I'm exhausted. I can write this tonight because I fought all week long. I feel like I've been fighting for weeks on end. I've been fighting myself. Because I was too prideful to recognize who I was really fighting, to lay it all down, and find peace and rest in knowing, the end battle is won. Jesus paid it all.
When I wake up tomorrow, I will put on my armor. And walk my family through fire with oily hands and crazy worship hands and hands laid all over them in prayer. We're all in this fight. Every last one of us. Claim victory over the enemy in your house today. He comes to destroy you. Remind him of who will crush his head under His heel.
***Side Note: find Praise Assembly of God, Beaufort, SC on Facebook. Tomorrow, the sermon from today should be posted. Watch it. Pastor Jamie brought the word with passion!***
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Trash Day
If you think about it, Moms are daily inundated with more than we realistically can handle. Men have this incredible ability to compartmentalize their lives. They are the waffles of the world with the syrup sitting neatly inside each tiny square. And here we are, the pancakes, with our buttery, syrup mess spread all over everything and making everything sticky. Realistically, we cannot handle more syrup. There is only so much pancake. BUT, we just keep.pouring.it.on. Here are just a few of the actual thoughts that can run through my head in any given 1 minute time frame........
**When I say "you" I am definitely referring to "me", but it makes me feel better to say it in an accusatory tone**
-Are you killing your family and cursing them to a long slow death of stomach tumors and food allergies every time you feed them white bread or non-organic vegetables?
-Are you killing your family every time you give them Tylenol or Advil?
-Are you killing your kids emotionally every time you lose your patience?
-Are you killing yourself every time you forget to go to the gym for the last 7 years?
-Are you killing your dog by feeding them cornmeal by-product in their dog food that costs $80 a month? (WHAT?!!!!)
-Are you killing your marriage by not taking care of yourself and maintaining your appearance for your husband?
-Are you killing your marriage by taking care of your appearance but subsequently killing your family budget in the process?
-Are you killing your spirituality by caring about appearances enough to consider that you could be killing your marriage by not caring?
-Are you killing your kids futures by not giving them a participation trophy every time they breathe in and out on their own?
-Are you killing their sense of humility and creating sociopathic narcissists by building their self confidence?
-Are you killing their brain cells with technology?
-Are you killing their hopes of a job by not allowing them to advance technologically with the world around them?
(Basically. We are all murderers.)
I could go on for days. If women spend any amount of time online, watching tv, at the gym, on FB, at the yuppie playground, farmers market, shopping, at the pet store.....every single place we go, we are surrounded by everything telling us exactly what we are doing wrong. Its EXHAUSTING. And yeah, some of these issues are big. Some of them aren't things we should spend our brain cells mulling over. But what happens when we allow ourselves to drown in the stuff that can easily suffocate us, is that when a REAL issue, when something HUGE rocks your family, you don't enough left in the tank to devote to dealing with the real issue. And then what happens? Shame. Guilt. What am I doing wrong? Why can't I handle this? Moms every single day all over the world are doing this and here I am, not doing it. And that doubt leads us to isolation. We quit social media and we turn to our spouses and our kids (who, by the way, have no desire at all to be your only friend......you make them tired) and then we complain that we don't have anyone to talk to because we've talked and talked and talked. And talk is what got us to this point anyways. We isolate ourselves for the sake of saving ourselves from being talked about.....and then all we do is talk about ourselves. And then, we say we don't want to talk about it. This is where I am. I have overwhelmed by noise. By things that don't matter. I am distracted from being distracted because even my distractions are distracted! And because of this.....I had no idea how quickly the pieces were falling apart.
For the last 2 weeks, every time I am in the car, and when I say "every" I mean EVERY SINGLE TIME to a point that I'm looking around for Big Brother and developing a conspiracy theory in my head, every single time I am in the car, this song by Laura Story plays.....
I've been doing all that I can
To hold it all together
Piece by piece.
I've been feeling like a failure,
Trying to be braver
Than I could ever be.
It's just not me.
So be my healer, be my comfort, be my peace.
Cause I can be broken, I can be needy,
Lord I need You now to be,
Be my God, so I can just be me.
I've been living like an orphan,
Trying to belong here,
But it's just not my home.
I've been holding on so tightly,
To all the things that I think
Could satisfy my soul.
But I'm letting go...
So be my father, my mighty warrior, be my king.
Cause I can be scattered, frail and shattered,
Lord I need You now to be,
Be my God, so I can just be me.
Cause I was lost in this dark world
Until I was finally found in You
So now I'm needing, desperately pleading
Oh Lord, be all to me
And be my savior, be my lifeline, won't You be my everything.
Cause I'm so tired of trying to be someone
I was never meant to be
Be my God
Please be my God
Be my God
So I can just be me
So I can just be me
I can just be me.
I've been trying to hold this life together. I've been filling my mind with mindless chatter and trying to be SUPER wife, mom, therapist, launderer, artist, dress maker (don't ask), tutu craftsmen, baker, chef, Pinterest professional, did I say therapist? (oy), and the list goes on......in an effort to avoid the issue. I've been putting my emphasis on these people inside of my house that need me instead of putting the emphasis on the ONE that I need. I am of no value to them without God. I've been wondering why I'm falling apart. I've been wondering why I can't be strong and hopeful and courageous and joyful in my affliction and why can't I sweep these egg shells that I've been walking on out from under my feet. And the only answer I can find, the only answer that makes any sense........is that nowhere in the list of people I've been trying to be......nowhere did I have listed, "carried, saved, rescued, redeemed, faithful, patient, child of the King". I've been trying to do it all. I've been trying to control it all. I've been trying to push Him out because faith is hard and obedience is harder and not knowing is the worst and while I stomp my foot, let me say, I don't like it. But whether I like it or not, without these things, I'm drowning. My faith cannot stand when "Oceans rise". MY FEET WILL FAIL ME EVERY SINGLE TIME if my eyes aren't focused on the One who told me to take the steps.
So it's time to clean house. Take your mom guilt and your pet owner shame and your Victorias Secret catalog full of women that need to eat a whole bunch of processed food that I will NEVER look like because the good Lord gave me a big ol' booty and child bearing hips and get out. I don't have time for you. Not because I really really like oreos and not because I don't care.....but because with you in my head, there's no room for God. With all of your noise, it is not possible to hear that still, small voice that will never fail me. With your guilt in my head of everything I'm doing wrong, there's no room for God's affirmations of the things I'm doing right and the reasons that He loves me, REGARDLESS of my answers to all of the above questions. With all of the distractions in this life about the things that don't matter, I am choosing the things that do matter. So that for right now, as our family walks out this huge, really hard stuff, I can be as valuable as God needs me to be and as valuable as He created me to be. Less syrup. More pancake.
Join me. Clean house. Take out the trash. Find what it is that God has entrusted you with that is what needs your focus NOW. I can almost promise, you will find, the thing He has entrusted to you, that is of the greatest value, is your relationship with Him.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Great Expectations
This is actually the third night in a row that I've written this post. The first time I wrote it, I had just finished reading a few other blogs that had gone viral and I had these grandiose ideas of maybe one day, mine doing the same.....so I found the scripture to back every point and by the time I got to the end of the post, I had a whole lot of scripture, and none of me. The second time I wrote it, my dreams of virility were slightly smaller but yesterday was a hard day and well, nobody has time for Debbie Downer. And there's tonight. God says to write.....because this is what He gave me. Even if nobody reads it.....I have to use what He gave me.
Any time I sit down and exercise my brain enough to write a post, it's because I'm working something out in my soul. Topics usually haunt me for a couple of weeks before I make the decision to write and I have finally learned that when that happens it's always 1 of 2 things......it's either the devil trying to distract/hurt/guilt/condemn me or it's the Holy Spirit laying that conviction on thick. Needless to say, I serve an amazing, relentless God who has kept after me on this one for WAY more than a couple of weeks. But only in the last 4 months have I been forced to face and attempt to deal with the monster of my "great expectations".
In the last 4 months (yes, since David has been home), God has taken a whole lot of really ugly stuff that I had shoved down deep into the darkest parts of my being, and He's attached bobbers to them. They are floating around on the surface now, bobbing up and down and surfacing every few seconds, on display, vulnerable, asking to get baited. Some of the things I struggle with....anger, resentment, bitterness, selfishness, laziness AND disappointment. Those first several things, ok. I can talk my way through those. There have been offenses and words spoken and actions taken and I have held onto them, and I have battled myself with entitlement and acting like the world owed me something and allowing myself to be selfish and bitter and I've found every single possible reason under the sun to justify why I can't possibly fit time into my schedule to take care of my physical fitness in an effort to facilitate my laziness. Problem solved. But then there's this disappointment thing. And when I think about it, and its root, it's a recurring theme in so many hard times in my life. And its this thing.....this is the hard one. I have great expectations. Of situations. Of people. Of myself. I set unattainable standards for the people around me. And then get disappointed when they are unable to meet them. I've done it with Jake for our entire marriage. It's heart breaking to love someone that you feel like you will never be good enough for. That's what he tells me. I'm the oppressor. I've done it with Cole and Zella. I have loved them with the most selfish kind of parenting love. I have parented them with the expectation of a return. Of them noticing the clean laundry or the new recipe or the extra book that I read but didn't really want to read. Of them growing up and being smart and successful and attributing said success to the one that held it all together for them. Mom. And then David came along. And this transition has been long and hard and it has not been what I expected. At all. And here's what David has taught me........I am selfish. David came to this family with NOTHING to offer. It has taken me 4 months of examining to figure out why love with him feels so different. It has taken me that long to figure out why it literally hurts. Because David is a small me.......needing to be rescued. Needing to be loved and to learn to love himself.
I had never considered my emptiness that first time I sat at the feet of Jesus and begged for redemption. I had never pondered the fact that I literally have nothing to offer the King of Kings. I am completely naked and empty handed every time I approach Him. But He wants every single bit of my ugly, 2 kids later, nakedness and emptiness. Because He wants to clothe me in dignity. He desires to fill me with promise and truth and hope and a quiet, strong spirit that stands firm when the devil prowls. He wants to equip me to be a grace monger. To clothe the naked and empty handed in the same dignity I have been afforded. He wants to love me Love me into finally loving myself. He wants to romance me into trusting that I was created with such care that I am beautiful and worthy. He wants me to have HOPE. He wants me to have so much hope, that I'm able to deliver that to other people that have nothing to offer.......like David.
The difference in expectation and in hope is their creator. Expectations are rooted in what we have created in our minds to be the perfect scenario. Hope is trusting that God, who is the creator of perfect scenarios, has included you in His plans. Expectations have an end. They are a small, finite moment in time. Hope endures. It pushes us through. Hope does not disappoint. Expectations disappoint. Almost every time. I have lived a life of disappointment, at my own hand. And I look around me all the time and wonder how many people are living inside their self created disappointment hell? How many people wake up every morning and say "today is going to be a GREAT day!" and they fully expect that.....but what if its not? What if the really great day that you anticipated really really sucks? What's left but disappointment? What about those people that tell you "well, just go into it expecting the worst"? Do you know me?! I am a Southern woman. Telling me to expect the worst is telling me to immediately jump to my fate of a heinous and untimely death. What if we just stopped expecting? What if when we wake up in the morning we say, "God, I'm here to take whatever it is that You have for me today. I hope that today is sunny and beautiful and goes my way. But if it doesn't, I hope You give me the wisdom to remember that Your plan is perfect, regardless of my emotions." If we could start each day like that......would our lives be as complicated as we make them when we wallow in disappointment? If we could live every single day remembering that we sit empty handed, and naked at the feet of a just God that loves us unconditionally, in spite of our inablity to return the value of His sacrifice, wouldn't we be able to better love ourselves and stop putting unreachable expectations on life that ultimately end in disappointment?
I want to try. I want to try to love my husband like that. I want to look at him every day and remember that he is a precious gift that was named and matched with me before there was even time. I want to hug my kids and not immediately wonder if their squeeze was intended to not be as tight as mine. I want to cook dinner as a service to my family, and not with the intention of a response from them about how it tastes. I want to look at David, and see the second chance that he embodies. I want to extend to him, exactly what has been extended to me. I want to wake up every day and know that God has not wasted this conviction on a naked, empty handed woman......but He has given this conviction to His daughter, whom He loves deeper than deep. Because He has plans for my life....plans full of HOPE and for a future. (Jer. 29:11)
Any time I sit down and exercise my brain enough to write a post, it's because I'm working something out in my soul. Topics usually haunt me for a couple of weeks before I make the decision to write and I have finally learned that when that happens it's always 1 of 2 things......it's either the devil trying to distract/hurt/guilt/condemn me or it's the Holy Spirit laying that conviction on thick. Needless to say, I serve an amazing, relentless God who has kept after me on this one for WAY more than a couple of weeks. But only in the last 4 months have I been forced to face and attempt to deal with the monster of my "great expectations".
In the last 4 months (yes, since David has been home), God has taken a whole lot of really ugly stuff that I had shoved down deep into the darkest parts of my being, and He's attached bobbers to them. They are floating around on the surface now, bobbing up and down and surfacing every few seconds, on display, vulnerable, asking to get baited. Some of the things I struggle with....anger, resentment, bitterness, selfishness, laziness AND disappointment. Those first several things, ok. I can talk my way through those. There have been offenses and words spoken and actions taken and I have held onto them, and I have battled myself with entitlement and acting like the world owed me something and allowing myself to be selfish and bitter and I've found every single possible reason under the sun to justify why I can't possibly fit time into my schedule to take care of my physical fitness in an effort to facilitate my laziness. Problem solved. But then there's this disappointment thing. And when I think about it, and its root, it's a recurring theme in so many hard times in my life. And its this thing.....this is the hard one. I have great expectations. Of situations. Of people. Of myself. I set unattainable standards for the people around me. And then get disappointed when they are unable to meet them. I've done it with Jake for our entire marriage. It's heart breaking to love someone that you feel like you will never be good enough for. That's what he tells me. I'm the oppressor. I've done it with Cole and Zella. I have loved them with the most selfish kind of parenting love. I have parented them with the expectation of a return. Of them noticing the clean laundry or the new recipe or the extra book that I read but didn't really want to read. Of them growing up and being smart and successful and attributing said success to the one that held it all together for them. Mom. And then David came along. And this transition has been long and hard and it has not been what I expected. At all. And here's what David has taught me........I am selfish. David came to this family with NOTHING to offer. It has taken me 4 months of examining to figure out why love with him feels so different. It has taken me that long to figure out why it literally hurts. Because David is a small me.......needing to be rescued. Needing to be loved and to learn to love himself.
I had never considered my emptiness that first time I sat at the feet of Jesus and begged for redemption. I had never pondered the fact that I literally have nothing to offer the King of Kings. I am completely naked and empty handed every time I approach Him. But He wants every single bit of my ugly, 2 kids later, nakedness and emptiness. Because He wants to clothe me in dignity. He desires to fill me with promise and truth and hope and a quiet, strong spirit that stands firm when the devil prowls. He wants to equip me to be a grace monger. To clothe the naked and empty handed in the same dignity I have been afforded. He wants to love me Love me into finally loving myself. He wants to romance me into trusting that I was created with such care that I am beautiful and worthy. He wants me to have HOPE. He wants me to have so much hope, that I'm able to deliver that to other people that have nothing to offer.......like David.
The difference in expectation and in hope is their creator. Expectations are rooted in what we have created in our minds to be the perfect scenario. Hope is trusting that God, who is the creator of perfect scenarios, has included you in His plans. Expectations have an end. They are a small, finite moment in time. Hope endures. It pushes us through. Hope does not disappoint. Expectations disappoint. Almost every time. I have lived a life of disappointment, at my own hand. And I look around me all the time and wonder how many people are living inside their self created disappointment hell? How many people wake up every morning and say "today is going to be a GREAT day!" and they fully expect that.....but what if its not? What if the really great day that you anticipated really really sucks? What's left but disappointment? What about those people that tell you "well, just go into it expecting the worst"? Do you know me?! I am a Southern woman. Telling me to expect the worst is telling me to immediately jump to my fate of a heinous and untimely death. What if we just stopped expecting? What if when we wake up in the morning we say, "God, I'm here to take whatever it is that You have for me today. I hope that today is sunny and beautiful and goes my way. But if it doesn't, I hope You give me the wisdom to remember that Your plan is perfect, regardless of my emotions." If we could start each day like that......would our lives be as complicated as we make them when we wallow in disappointment? If we could live every single day remembering that we sit empty handed, and naked at the feet of a just God that loves us unconditionally, in spite of our inablity to return the value of His sacrifice, wouldn't we be able to better love ourselves and stop putting unreachable expectations on life that ultimately end in disappointment?
I want to try. I want to try to love my husband like that. I want to look at him every day and remember that he is a precious gift that was named and matched with me before there was even time. I want to hug my kids and not immediately wonder if their squeeze was intended to not be as tight as mine. I want to cook dinner as a service to my family, and not with the intention of a response from them about how it tastes. I want to look at David, and see the second chance that he embodies. I want to extend to him, exactly what has been extended to me. I want to wake up every day and know that God has not wasted this conviction on a naked, empty handed woman......but He has given this conviction to His daughter, whom He loves deeper than deep. Because He has plans for my life....plans full of HOPE and for a future. (Jer. 29:11)
Thursday, December 19, 2013
A CHRISTmas blog.......
One of my favorite Christmas songs right now is Audrey Assad, Winter Snow. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pi25lohx7Kw
The lyrics focus on the lack of grandeur in Christs birth.....when truly, He had the ability to come in the grandest of ways. That's not who He was. Our salvation walked the earth in peace and hope and light. He spoke life. He spoke truth. He embodied grace. He permeated mercy. His birth marks 1 of 2 of the most significant happenings in my Christian walk. And I LOVE CHRISTmas because of the reminders of that peace. Christmas music.....not the sad, lonely kind. But the triumphant kind. "Fall on your knees! Oh hear the angel voices! Oh night divine, oh night, when Christ was born". Victory!Hark the Herald Angels Sing, O Holy Night, Silent Night, Away in a Manger and on and on. Hope. A few years ago I started painting.....this was the 1st thing I painted.....and it sits in our home during this time of year to remind me of the gift we have been given....
Having said that.....this year is hard. There isn't a whole lot of peace in our house right now. I want to pretend that we are all adjusting beautifully in this very broken world......but we aren't. There is a little boy living in our house that deals with trauma issues. And it turns out, the holidays trigger a lot of those things. He hasn't learned yet that we aren't going to leave him. He has no concept of what a "family" means. He doesn't know what "mother" and "father" looks like. Somedays the crying is unbearable. Some days he laughs until he can't breathe. Some days he sings "Jesus Loves Me" at the tops of his lungs and some days he refuses to speak. Cole and Zella are stressed out. Cole's anxiety is through the roof and Zella has reverted to behavior that we tackled when she was 2. And I get it. All of it. Because they are small people and don't have the grasp that Jake and I have on life and more importantly, Jesus. There are days when all we do, all day long, is discipline. We had a day this week where all 3 of our children were in trouble for lying.....different incidents, same offense. Jake just looked at me and shook his head. I read this the other day........."I haven't had a day yet, where I didn't make it through." That's us. Keep. On. Trucking. SO.......Jake and I are CRAVING CHRISTmas. We are yearning for the peace that surrounds the manger. We are longing for the stillness of a dark night with a north star. And it's offered to us. We just have to take it.
Jake is a lot smarter than me. He's been half boycotting social media for several weeks now (with the exception of a few posts about the Packers......because they are our team. And sometimes they are terrible and warrant a post) because his brain is tired. He's smart enough to know that we are under attack. When people stand for what they believe in......the devil gets mad. So that's us......we stood in the gap. We brought a child into our home that needed a home. We pray over him. Last week (tearing up over this one), Zella had a fever and laid down in my bed. David wandered in the bedroom and climbed up next to her and laid down. Without prompting (because I was spying from the crack behind the door to see what he was going to do), he put his hand on her and closed his eyes "dear Dedus, Tank you for Zella. Zella not feel good. Amen." THE VERY NEXT DAY, Davids trauma was triggered and our home fell apart again for several days. The devil hates hope. He hates the promise of new life. He hates when people stand up and say they believe in something greater than what the world desires for them to believe. And we have to make the choice......in this attack, what do I choose to filter through my head. Will I choose to only put in the good, because really, in turmoil, there's no room left for the bad......will I choose to keep on letting ol' devil in through outlets that I least suspect?.....will I keep allowing him to distract me and separate me? We have a choice.
I've noticed a trend......my FB feed is full of it. And that's the thing about FB. You can use it to push whatever agenda it is that you're pushing for that day. It can be breastfeeding or vaccines or Phil Robertson or adoption, abortion, womens rights, NObama, let your kids believe in Santa or don't, I mean....whatever you want, you can put it out there. And the people that choose to read it, are choosing to let that in. I am that person. I'm a person that gets sucked in. I will comment on your post about why its awesome to have six kids (it is awesome by the way) and I will comment on why everyone should support adoption and why pesticides on our vegetables should be illegal. And what has it done for me? It has distracted me. It has taken a small amount of my mental energy away from fighting the fight happening inside our home right now. It has stolen the peace that I am desperate for.
Am I going to say that I am going to boycott FB? No. I'm not that strong. Who am I kidding? I would have to go through detox if I deleted my account. But for now, for this season (holiday and metaphorical) I have to make a choice. Fight the fight inside my home, for my marriage, for my kids, for my peace.....for my God. Or choose the battles that don't effect us. I am choosing Christ, this CHRISTmas.
I choose His peace. I choose to rejoice in His birth. I choose to take every ounce of what He is handing out. Because it is a choice.
Merry Christmas and God bless you all!
The lyrics focus on the lack of grandeur in Christs birth.....when truly, He had the ability to come in the grandest of ways. That's not who He was. Our salvation walked the earth in peace and hope and light. He spoke life. He spoke truth. He embodied grace. He permeated mercy. His birth marks 1 of 2 of the most significant happenings in my Christian walk. And I LOVE CHRISTmas because of the reminders of that peace. Christmas music.....not the sad, lonely kind. But the triumphant kind. "Fall on your knees! Oh hear the angel voices! Oh night divine, oh night, when Christ was born". Victory!Hark the Herald Angels Sing, O Holy Night, Silent Night, Away in a Manger and on and on. Hope. A few years ago I started painting.....this was the 1st thing I painted.....and it sits in our home during this time of year to remind me of the gift we have been given....
Jake is a lot smarter than me. He's been half boycotting social media for several weeks now (with the exception of a few posts about the Packers......because they are our team. And sometimes they are terrible and warrant a post) because his brain is tired. He's smart enough to know that we are under attack. When people stand for what they believe in......the devil gets mad. So that's us......we stood in the gap. We brought a child into our home that needed a home. We pray over him. Last week (tearing up over this one), Zella had a fever and laid down in my bed. David wandered in the bedroom and climbed up next to her and laid down. Without prompting (because I was spying from the crack behind the door to see what he was going to do), he put his hand on her and closed his eyes "dear Dedus, Tank you for Zella. Zella not feel good. Amen." THE VERY NEXT DAY, Davids trauma was triggered and our home fell apart again for several days. The devil hates hope. He hates the promise of new life. He hates when people stand up and say they believe in something greater than what the world desires for them to believe. And we have to make the choice......in this attack, what do I choose to filter through my head. Will I choose to only put in the good, because really, in turmoil, there's no room left for the bad......will I choose to keep on letting ol' devil in through outlets that I least suspect?.....will I keep allowing him to distract me and separate me? We have a choice.
I've noticed a trend......my FB feed is full of it. And that's the thing about FB. You can use it to push whatever agenda it is that you're pushing for that day. It can be breastfeeding or vaccines or Phil Robertson or adoption, abortion, womens rights, NObama, let your kids believe in Santa or don't, I mean....whatever you want, you can put it out there. And the people that choose to read it, are choosing to let that in. I am that person. I'm a person that gets sucked in. I will comment on your post about why its awesome to have six kids (it is awesome by the way) and I will comment on why everyone should support adoption and why pesticides on our vegetables should be illegal. And what has it done for me? It has distracted me. It has taken a small amount of my mental energy away from fighting the fight happening inside our home right now. It has stolen the peace that I am desperate for.
Am I going to say that I am going to boycott FB? No. I'm not that strong. Who am I kidding? I would have to go through detox if I deleted my account. But for now, for this season (holiday and metaphorical) I have to make a choice. Fight the fight inside my home, for my marriage, for my kids, for my peace.....for my God. Or choose the battles that don't effect us. I am choosing Christ, this CHRISTmas.
I choose His peace. I choose to rejoice in His birth. I choose to take every ounce of what He is handing out. Because it is a choice.
Merry Christmas and God bless you all!
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
I may regret this post......
I may regret this post. Wait, no I won't. I love blogging because I'm not forcing anyone to read my thoughts. I'm just putting it out there and if you decide to read it, that's great. If you don't, I don't regret posting. So here it goes.....
Last weekend at church we had a family of 10 (GASP!!!) come spend some time with our church family. They have adopted all 8 of their children in different scenarios and are now full time missionaries with the Assemblies of God. They travel from city to city advocating for foster care, adoption and the need for a movement in the church to follow Gods command to care for the orphan and widow. So Saturday night they shared their hearts with the adoption ministry in our church. There we were, in a room full of kids....biological, adopted, fostered. TONS of kids! And there were only like 10 families there! LOL! And that room was full of hope. It radiates through these people. The ones that are struggling through trauma issues, the ones that have multiple small children at home and desperately need a break, one whose husband is deployed and she handles 4 kids under the age of 6 every day! One family with 9 kids, three of which are deaf. Can I just tell you that watching their mom sign every word of the sermon on Sundays for them just explodes my heart? And you know what the world says? They say we're all crazy. They say it's irresponsible to have that many kids. They say that the orphan crisis is God's problem. Here's my take......
We are crazy. We are crazy enough to take a chance on a God that demands chance taking. We are crazy enough to trust Him to walk us through it. We are crazy enough to say "yes". There need to be more crazy people. More crazy, Jesus loving people in this world would mean children with full bellies. It would mean closed orphanages. It would mean children being brought up in a home that speaks life and prays truth. It would mean a generation of change. But change is a fight........
On Sunday morning the father of this family delivered a sermon that just gripped me. There were so many points that I walked away with my mind blown about. But here's the one......the one that got me. It's also the one that has caused a fair amount of controversy in the FB world (this makes me laugh). "Making abortion illegal won't prevent unwanted pregnancy. It won't increase a woman's desire or ability to parent. If we, as a body of Christ, desire and pray for abortion to end, then we have to start now and be prepared to care for the 4000+ children a day that will live." Here's why that got me......
I have always been against abortion. I believe that every child is a gift. A perfectly planned gift. It was hard for me to not think that when I have two insanely adorable biological children. Of course they are gifts! Of course I want abortion to end. Not just be illegal but to end. And of course we advocate for adoption and orphan care. But until Sunday, as David snuggled on my lap through the sermon, I had never considered this. I am the parent of an unwanted child.
At two years old, David was sent, via ambulance, to a hospital, alone. We don't know why, but he was there for 7 months. Alone. Eventually his mother was found and rights were signed over to the government. A huge part of me hates her. How could she just send him off in the ambulance and never look back?! And the much larger part of me, is thankful for her. Because until this weekend, it never occurred to me.....she could have chosen death for him. She could have chosen abortion. But she chose life. David is the result of choosing life.
Before he was born, David was an orphan. He was unwanted. He was the baby in the womb that we picket for. He was the baby that we push for legislation to protect. He had 10 fingers and 10 toes and a viable heartbeat as early as 5 weeks. In every country around the world there are activists fighting and dying and being arrested to end the murder of children inside the womb. But what happens after they are born? Do they become less important? Where are the picketers in front of the orphanages and group homes? Where are the churches and the 2 billion Christians? See......we are willing to fight for the end of killing children, but we aren't willing to fight for these children to truly live.
If we want to end abortion......because it's murder, no? Then we have to stop turning our heads away from the children dying every day in orphanages, group homes, on the streets, in brothels, in institutions. If the argument to end abortion is that its a child from conception......then the argument continues, is a child after birth not of the same value to God?
Which leads me to this. This isn't God's problem. As Christians, as adopted members of Gods family, this is very much our problem. He commanded us to love one another as He first loved us. He died for us. Sacrifice. Time, space, money, luxury.........adoption and foster care are a sacrifice. But the result of Christs sacrifice for us was redemption. We are redeemed and offered new life because He chose us over His own life. THAT is what He calls us to do. He calls us to offer redemption to the outcast. He calls us to offer life to the otherwise dead. He calls us to give them a life, and life to the fullest. The same life that He afforded us.
So what if you can't adopt or foster? On Sunday morning our speaker asked everyone in the congregation that had been adopted or fostered or had been part of adoption or foster care to stand up. There were people standing all over the church. I bet every person knows someone with an attachment to orphan care. Talk to them. If its a family that has adopted or fosters......do they need help? Maybe an hour to sleep or shower without trauma? Is there a womens shelter near you? Did you know that so many girls choose abortion because they don't know what their options are? They choose the only thing they know how to choose? What if we offered them education to learn to be a mom? What if we offered them a ride to church? I can promise that God will meet them there. Do you have any extra change laying around? Maybe God has blessed you tremendously in your finances. Did you know that there are organizations that build funding for special needs to children to be adopted? I can think of 4 different adoption fundraising auctions happening on my FB feed right at this very moment. Families willing to step out and say "yes" to the fatherless but they are still waiting on their financial miracle. There are SO MANY WAYS to step up and step out. God does not call every single person to adopt. Let's just be honest. Some people shouldn't have kids. BUT.......everyone can do something! Pray. Advocate. Sign the petitions. Buy from the auctions. Keep taking those names off the giving tree. Keep donating to Toys for Tots. Keep your ears open to what the Lord would have you do.
Here's my bottom line.......
my son, in his brokenness, is a gift. He is an arrow in the quiver. God has GREAT plans for him. And because his mother chose life for him, God's kingdom will be enhanced and those plans will come to fruition. And Jake and I, in our brokennes, are blessed to be the ones to extend grace to sweet David. We are blessed to watch God heal him. We are forever changed. Because one woman chose life.
Last weekend at church we had a family of 10 (GASP!!!) come spend some time with our church family. They have adopted all 8 of their children in different scenarios and are now full time missionaries with the Assemblies of God. They travel from city to city advocating for foster care, adoption and the need for a movement in the church to follow Gods command to care for the orphan and widow. So Saturday night they shared their hearts with the adoption ministry in our church. There we were, in a room full of kids....biological, adopted, fostered. TONS of kids! And there were only like 10 families there! LOL! And that room was full of hope. It radiates through these people. The ones that are struggling through trauma issues, the ones that have multiple small children at home and desperately need a break, one whose husband is deployed and she handles 4 kids under the age of 6 every day! One family with 9 kids, three of which are deaf. Can I just tell you that watching their mom sign every word of the sermon on Sundays for them just explodes my heart? And you know what the world says? They say we're all crazy. They say it's irresponsible to have that many kids. They say that the orphan crisis is God's problem. Here's my take......
We are crazy. We are crazy enough to take a chance on a God that demands chance taking. We are crazy enough to trust Him to walk us through it. We are crazy enough to say "yes". There need to be more crazy people. More crazy, Jesus loving people in this world would mean children with full bellies. It would mean closed orphanages. It would mean children being brought up in a home that speaks life and prays truth. It would mean a generation of change. But change is a fight........
On Sunday morning the father of this family delivered a sermon that just gripped me. There were so many points that I walked away with my mind blown about. But here's the one......the one that got me. It's also the one that has caused a fair amount of controversy in the FB world (this makes me laugh). "Making abortion illegal won't prevent unwanted pregnancy. It won't increase a woman's desire or ability to parent. If we, as a body of Christ, desire and pray for abortion to end, then we have to start now and be prepared to care for the 4000+ children a day that will live." Here's why that got me......
I have always been against abortion. I believe that every child is a gift. A perfectly planned gift. It was hard for me to not think that when I have two insanely adorable biological children. Of course they are gifts! Of course I want abortion to end. Not just be illegal but to end. And of course we advocate for adoption and orphan care. But until Sunday, as David snuggled on my lap through the sermon, I had never considered this. I am the parent of an unwanted child.
At two years old, David was sent, via ambulance, to a hospital, alone. We don't know why, but he was there for 7 months. Alone. Eventually his mother was found and rights were signed over to the government. A huge part of me hates her. How could she just send him off in the ambulance and never look back?! And the much larger part of me, is thankful for her. Because until this weekend, it never occurred to me.....she could have chosen death for him. She could have chosen abortion. But she chose life. David is the result of choosing life.
Before he was born, David was an orphan. He was unwanted. He was the baby in the womb that we picket for. He was the baby that we push for legislation to protect. He had 10 fingers and 10 toes and a viable heartbeat as early as 5 weeks. In every country around the world there are activists fighting and dying and being arrested to end the murder of children inside the womb. But what happens after they are born? Do they become less important? Where are the picketers in front of the orphanages and group homes? Where are the churches and the 2 billion Christians? See......we are willing to fight for the end of killing children, but we aren't willing to fight for these children to truly live.
If we want to end abortion......because it's murder, no? Then we have to stop turning our heads away from the children dying every day in orphanages, group homes, on the streets, in brothels, in institutions. If the argument to end abortion is that its a child from conception......then the argument continues, is a child after birth not of the same value to God?
Which leads me to this. This isn't God's problem. As Christians, as adopted members of Gods family, this is very much our problem. He commanded us to love one another as He first loved us. He died for us. Sacrifice. Time, space, money, luxury.........adoption and foster care are a sacrifice. But the result of Christs sacrifice for us was redemption. We are redeemed and offered new life because He chose us over His own life. THAT is what He calls us to do. He calls us to offer redemption to the outcast. He calls us to offer life to the otherwise dead. He calls us to give them a life, and life to the fullest. The same life that He afforded us.
So what if you can't adopt or foster? On Sunday morning our speaker asked everyone in the congregation that had been adopted or fostered or had been part of adoption or foster care to stand up. There were people standing all over the church. I bet every person knows someone with an attachment to orphan care. Talk to them. If its a family that has adopted or fosters......do they need help? Maybe an hour to sleep or shower without trauma? Is there a womens shelter near you? Did you know that so many girls choose abortion because they don't know what their options are? They choose the only thing they know how to choose? What if we offered them education to learn to be a mom? What if we offered them a ride to church? I can promise that God will meet them there. Do you have any extra change laying around? Maybe God has blessed you tremendously in your finances. Did you know that there are organizations that build funding for special needs to children to be adopted? I can think of 4 different adoption fundraising auctions happening on my FB feed right at this very moment. Families willing to step out and say "yes" to the fatherless but they are still waiting on their financial miracle. There are SO MANY WAYS to step up and step out. God does not call every single person to adopt. Let's just be honest. Some people shouldn't have kids. BUT.......everyone can do something! Pray. Advocate. Sign the petitions. Buy from the auctions. Keep taking those names off the giving tree. Keep donating to Toys for Tots. Keep your ears open to what the Lord would have you do.
Here's my bottom line.......
my son, in his brokenness, is a gift. He is an arrow in the quiver. God has GREAT plans for him. And because his mother chose life for him, God's kingdom will be enhanced and those plans will come to fruition. And Jake and I, in our brokennes, are blessed to be the ones to extend grace to sweet David. We are blessed to watch God heal him. We are forever changed. Because one woman chose life.
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