So a week ago, some strange man walks into my backyard and invites my 3 youngest children to "come off the porch and go play with my kids." There were no children in sight. I was right there. Looking out the living room window. And I could not see where he stood, carefully out of my line of sight. It still gives me chills to think about the might have beens.
Not 12 hours before that, God had prompted Tony in the middle of the night to pray for protection over his family. Right before they went outside, we had the "what do you do if a stranger comes in the yard talk".
I truly believe God sent angels in response to Tony's prayer, to prompt me to have that talk, to prompt Lydia to say, "I think we should go inside", to prompt Will to take Madi by the hand and say, "Yes, we have to go inside." That man ran away like he was being chased when they came inside. Pretty sure he was.
In the days afterwards, my concern was warning people in the area that a "predator" was out there, lurking. I was ready to take a baseball bat to him if he ever came back in our yard. We called the police, checked websites for registered child sex offenders in our area, showed the kids pictures to see if they recognized any of them...We were prepared to fight.
But this little thought began working it's way into my brain. Who was this man? Not just who was he so I can keep my children away from him, but who IS he? And why? What had created this compulsion in him? What had been done to him? He was a child once. As a matter of fact, he still is. God's child. Here I am, a professed follower of Christ, passing judgement on this man because his intentions scared me.
I had done everything but what I should have done. I should have prayed for him.
I cannot imagine the depths of sorrow a parent goes through whose child suffers at the hands of someone else. And yet I can.
One of my children almost died of malnutrition because a birth parent did not feed them. Yet I pray for the salvation of that woman because I know she is a precious child of God, who loves her.
One of my children still struggles to trust that there will always be food in front of them after having to forage for food in trash cans at age 3. Yet I pray that God will keep those parents off the streets and safe.
Several of our children fear that one day they will wake up and we will not be there. And I pray for those birth parents. I pray that God will make them hate rather than desire drugs. I pray that He will bring their hearts close to him.
But I pray for them because I know them. Not personally, but I know their story. Sexually abused as young children by family members. Verbally abused by parents. Physically abused. I hate what my children have experienced but I understand why it happened. Because it was done before. The cycle continued. I can pray and love them and understand.
But this stranger. This man who invaded my world. I do not know his story. I never even saw his face. It is easy to hate him. It is easy to judge. But that's not my job. No one elected me God. I don't get to judge him. Yes, I should protect my children from harm, but that doesn't give me the right to hate.
That's really hard though. Love someone who had ill intentions towards me or mine? I still really would like to hit him with a stick.
I've always been in awe of people who can forgive huge crimes against them. The parents of a slain child, while they want the perpetrator to go to jail to protect others, turn to God to help them forgive. Man, I don't know if I could be that big. I know, hate is really poison and forgiveness heals you know the other person. I can see that because I began to see every strange man as a possible predator. I saw dark everywhere. I still don't know how I could have found forgiveness if he had actually gotten one of my kids. Certainly not on my own. Only with God.
In the book, The Shack**, the main character has suffered the loss of his youngest child in a violent way. Since then he has turned his back on all happiness and lived this sort of half life, eaten up by hate for this person. He has this sort of dream where he meets God. The part of it that struck me is when he is asked to sit in the judgement seat for God and judge others, including the man who killed his child, he finds that God loves that killer. He loves His child, despite the horrendous sin they committed.
**Note: I'm not telling you to read it or saying I agree with the theology in The Shack - I don't. Just a story with a fitting example.
Just as God loved the Egyptians that he washed away in the Red Sea to protect the Israelites. Just as He loves the man who robbed some local banks recently. Just as he loved the prostitute, Haggar, in spite of her running back to prostitution over and over. Just as he loves the man who hurt his children in a rage. Just as he loves the meth addicted birth parents. Just as he loves my neighbor, who in her elderly years drives her car through my yard to say hello, almost running Madi over. Just as he loves me when I yell at my children, don't follow through on what I will say I do, or one of a million other sins I've committed. He loves the grocery store cashier who was rude and looks as if she's worked longer than she should, for more years than she should. The one I judged because I wanted her to hurry up.
And he loves that strange man who came into my yard.
I asked God a while back to help me see people as He sees them; Love them as He loves them.
But that was before this man. I'm not sure I'm ready for that. Because while I can try to love the grocery cashier, can I love a thief who steals from me? Can I love an abuser who hurts a child? Can I love a molester who steals into my yard with the intent to steal my child? Can I look at them with love, not judgement? Can I see inside to what has been done to them?
Maybe they were the abused child that no one ever rescued.
Maybe they were my son or daughter a couple decades ago and there was not social worker or foster family or adoptive home to find refuge in.
I wrote the other day about not judging ourselves against others. Not assuming too much about the perfection we see in someone else. That's a lot easier than not judging someone we see as "the bad guy".
I know I will protect my children to my last breath. And most of me still wants to run into that man while I have a bat in hand. But with all of my heart I will pray for him, that God will heal whatever has been done to him to set him on this road. A road I am sure he does not want to travel, but may not know another path. And I will TRY to leave the judging to God.
For we must all appear before the judgement seat of Christ, so that each one my receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil. 2 Corinthians 2:12
Our Family
Our Family: Pops, Me, The Teenager, The Boy, The Freckle Faced Ninja, Miss Priss, Miss Sassy Pants, Madi-Lou-Who, & Dora the Explorer
Friday, May 25, 2012
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Perfection
I can't go on Pinterest any more. It stresses me beyond belief. I see all these "easy, DIY" projects that I "pin", then go buy the materials for, then they sit half done in a closet. I even had to ask someone what DIY meant because I thought it was a company! Does anyone's house really look like the ones on Pinterest? If yours does, I can not come visit you. I can only go visit people who have crumbs on their table, dishes in the sink, and mismatched decor! :)
I read an article about feeling the need to 'keep up with the Jones's' in the mom world. Pinning, couponing, parenting the best, dressing our kids in adorable outfits, homeschooling while doing 40 loads of laundry or being the room mom every year and sending in the best cupcakes, super mom in heels and a dress while working full-time...
We look in disbelief at Susie "Homemaker" who bakes all her own bread while raising 12 kids who all say "yes ma'am" or Joni "Works Full-Time" who has a perfect house and coaches all 5 of her kids sports teams. And we wonder how they do it. And why can't we.
Now, to add that insanity "Attachment Parenting". Seriously? Like I want my child "attached" to me. I want to raise children who one day want to go out into the world and be the salt and the light. They start sleeping with me now and what happens when they're 17? Frankly my bedroom is my sanctuary and I love that my kids go to be somewhere else. I love them but I love my peaceful place where I can read until 1 am and sleep without getting whacked in the mouth (Tony only rarely does that!).
You know I've never had to make the choice to breast feed/formula, cloth/disposable diapers, and the tons of other things parents of infants have to choose, because my kids were past that when we adopted them. But we've had to make (and defend) other choices: Preschool versus home daycare versus stay at home mom. Dietary choices (we don't eat sugar 95% of the time so most of the free world thinks we're nuts right there). Then there's the schooling choice...public school, private school, home school, unschool...critics abound. Judgement surrounds. No matter which one seems right to you, there is someone judging if it was the right choice and we are feeling guilty for not doing "enough", whatever that is.
Can't we keep the house clean while doing all the other 50 things expected of us in a day? Just drink more coffee, you can do it! I look down at my floor that needs mopping over my sweat shirt with coffee and applesauce stains and wonder why I'm exhausted when I haven't left the house today! I go to the park and marvel at the mom in her cute outfit, who obviously works out AND had time (and forethought) to apply make up, while I'm wearing a jogging suit for the 15th day in a row, not because I just came from the gym, but because the elastic waist is comfy!
We watch the children at the park and judge our parenting based on the best behaved kids there. Little Mary Jane plays like a lady, doesn't scuff her patent-leather shoes, and still has her bow in her hair when she goes home. My 3 year old has pulled one pig-tail out before we even get to the park and we can't find her shoe in the car. Little Johnny runs and plays nicely, sticks up for the little guy, and NEVER argues when mom says, "Time to go!". Ever had your child hole up in the top of the slide and blow a raspberry at you when you say that phrase? Lots of fun!
We judge ourselves when the other ladies we talk with at church talk about their "walk" and you realize that they get up at 5 am every day to read the Bible and spend an hour with God. You were happy to get a 5 minute prayer in while you showered and that you read 2 pages of the chapter for your small group book study. You swallow and decide you need friends with less ambition about them. Or more reality!
Our husbands judge their value by how well they provide for their family. Compared to Joe down the street. Compared to a brother or dad. They look at the neighbor's yard and judge the greenness of their grass as better than their own. They look at their car, size of the house, career path....
Is that not what we all do? Judge ourselves by our neighbor's measuring stick? We judge others we see as less by looking down at them. And we judge ourselves by those we see as better than us.
I recently had someone tell me that they stay away from people who others lift up and praise. At first they it sounded like they had disdain but as we talk further, we both realized it was an insecurity that kept me from speaking to or even developing friendships with those people. Someone who could be a huge influence in our lives, we avoid out of fear of being judged. Exposed.
I think it might be time for us to ask God for His eyes when we look at those people around us. Then I think our judgement yardstick would be turned upside down. The mother whose house looks perfect, children act perfect, who we think is perfect, is dealing with a struggling marriage or a prodigal teenager. The father with the perfect lawn is escaping from an overwhelming problem at work or an seriously ill family member. The jet setting single whose lifestyle we envy, laments that they may never find a soul mate to share their life with, or children to love beyond belief. The strong couple whose kids are the delight of their lives have an estranged parent or one of them has gotten a cancer diagnosis.
We have no idea of the challenges others around us are holding in their hearts. We're too busy seeing the outside. Looking each other over to see how everyone else is more perfect than us so we'd better shore up our wall around us. Got to buff up the image of perfection.
But what about Christ's image? Do we look for His image in those around us? Look in their eyes, not at their clothes? Do we buff up His image in and on us so others see His love for them reflected? Pull down the wall and let others see we aren't perfect but we are loved, just as they are?
Not an easy thing. To put aside our fears and doubts and love others as Christ loves us. Sacrifice our pride as He sacrificed His life, maybe. I hope that if you see me looking dressed up, on the one day that I have to be dressed up for something, that you will look past the ironed clothes into my heart and see that I think you are precious. That when I look at you, I see a creation that God lovingly planned and sculpted long before he created the foundations of the earth. And if you see me nervously approaching some perfectly manicured, in shape, woman who is dressed like she just stepped out of a magazine, know that I am hoping she will see my heart for her and ignore the stains on my jogging suit!
Be blessed and know that you are loved.
I read an article about feeling the need to 'keep up with the Jones's' in the mom world. Pinning, couponing, parenting the best, dressing our kids in adorable outfits, homeschooling while doing 40 loads of laundry or being the room mom every year and sending in the best cupcakes, super mom in heels and a dress while working full-time...
We look in disbelief at Susie "Homemaker" who bakes all her own bread while raising 12 kids who all say "yes ma'am" or Joni "Works Full-Time" who has a perfect house and coaches all 5 of her kids sports teams. And we wonder how they do it. And why can't we.
Now, to add that insanity "Attachment Parenting". Seriously? Like I want my child "attached" to me. I want to raise children who one day want to go out into the world and be the salt and the light. They start sleeping with me now and what happens when they're 17? Frankly my bedroom is my sanctuary and I love that my kids go to be somewhere else. I love them but I love my peaceful place where I can read until 1 am and sleep without getting whacked in the mouth (Tony only rarely does that!).
You know I've never had to make the choice to breast feed/formula, cloth/disposable diapers, and the tons of other things parents of infants have to choose, because my kids were past that when we adopted them. But we've had to make (and defend) other choices: Preschool versus home daycare versus stay at home mom. Dietary choices (we don't eat sugar 95% of the time so most of the free world thinks we're nuts right there). Then there's the schooling choice...public school, private school, home school, unschool...critics abound. Judgement surrounds. No matter which one seems right to you, there is someone judging if it was the right choice and we are feeling guilty for not doing "enough", whatever that is.
Can't we keep the house clean while doing all the other 50 things expected of us in a day? Just drink more coffee, you can do it! I look down at my floor that needs mopping over my sweat shirt with coffee and applesauce stains and wonder why I'm exhausted when I haven't left the house today! I go to the park and marvel at the mom in her cute outfit, who obviously works out AND had time (and forethought) to apply make up, while I'm wearing a jogging suit for the 15th day in a row, not because I just came from the gym, but because the elastic waist is comfy!
We watch the children at the park and judge our parenting based on the best behaved kids there. Little Mary Jane plays like a lady, doesn't scuff her patent-leather shoes, and still has her bow in her hair when she goes home. My 3 year old has pulled one pig-tail out before we even get to the park and we can't find her shoe in the car. Little Johnny runs and plays nicely, sticks up for the little guy, and NEVER argues when mom says, "Time to go!". Ever had your child hole up in the top of the slide and blow a raspberry at you when you say that phrase? Lots of fun!
We judge ourselves when the other ladies we talk with at church talk about their "walk" and you realize that they get up at 5 am every day to read the Bible and spend an hour with God. You were happy to get a 5 minute prayer in while you showered and that you read 2 pages of the chapter for your small group book study. You swallow and decide you need friends with less ambition about them. Or more reality!
Our husbands judge their value by how well they provide for their family. Compared to Joe down the street. Compared to a brother or dad. They look at the neighbor's yard and judge the greenness of their grass as better than their own. They look at their car, size of the house, career path....
Is that not what we all do? Judge ourselves by our neighbor's measuring stick? We judge others we see as less by looking down at them. And we judge ourselves by those we see as better than us.
I recently had someone tell me that they stay away from people who others lift up and praise. At first they it sounded like they had disdain but as we talk further, we both realized it was an insecurity that kept me from speaking to or even developing friendships with those people. Someone who could be a huge influence in our lives, we avoid out of fear of being judged. Exposed.
I think it might be time for us to ask God for His eyes when we look at those people around us. Then I think our judgement yardstick would be turned upside down. The mother whose house looks perfect, children act perfect, who we think is perfect, is dealing with a struggling marriage or a prodigal teenager. The father with the perfect lawn is escaping from an overwhelming problem at work or an seriously ill family member. The jet setting single whose lifestyle we envy, laments that they may never find a soul mate to share their life with, or children to love beyond belief. The strong couple whose kids are the delight of their lives have an estranged parent or one of them has gotten a cancer diagnosis.
We have no idea of the challenges others around us are holding in their hearts. We're too busy seeing the outside. Looking each other over to see how everyone else is more perfect than us so we'd better shore up our wall around us. Got to buff up the image of perfection.
But what about Christ's image? Do we look for His image in those around us? Look in their eyes, not at their clothes? Do we buff up His image in and on us so others see His love for them reflected? Pull down the wall and let others see we aren't perfect but we are loved, just as they are?
Not an easy thing. To put aside our fears and doubts and love others as Christ loves us. Sacrifice our pride as He sacrificed His life, maybe. I hope that if you see me looking dressed up, on the one day that I have to be dressed up for something, that you will look past the ironed clothes into my heart and see that I think you are precious. That when I look at you, I see a creation that God lovingly planned and sculpted long before he created the foundations of the earth. And if you see me nervously approaching some perfectly manicured, in shape, woman who is dressed like she just stepped out of a magazine, know that I am hoping she will see my heart for her and ignore the stains on my jogging suit!
Be blessed and know that you are loved.
Friday, May 11, 2012
Always Late
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| Trauma in the making right there, folks! Lifelong fear of bunnies started at age 2! Is there a term for 'a phobia of large bunny costumed person'? |
I'm perpetually late. It's common knowledge among all family and friends. I'm late to meetings, late to play dates, late for lunch, late for doctor appointments. It began with my birth coming 8 days late and has continued as a trend in my adult life. Now I've never been 8 DAYS late for something... OK, that's not true. I have. More than once.
It all began with the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. I have come to view these fictional characters as my nemesis in life. When Gabby lost her first couple teeth, I remember waking up and hearing, "Mom, the tooth fairy forgot to come!" Tony and I would look at each other with that deer in headlights look (not a great way to wake up)!
That was when I began my lying habit...see how one sin just leads right to another? :) We told Gabby we were sure the Tooth Fairy just had too many teeth to collect and would be here tomorrow night. Next morning? Second verse, same as the first!
So once when she was really late, about the 3rd tooth or so, she left a note in minuscule handwriting about what happened. Now it totally worked. The problem is, Gabby kept the note. Remembered exactly what was said. Next time we forgot, she brought up the note and we looked at her blankly. Oh what a tangled web we weave when we practice to deceive (always keep copies of fictional correspondence you give your kids!!).
So then comes Easter. Gabby was about 8 or 9. Easter had been a beautiful day. We go to a friends house for dinner that night and they hand Gabby an Easter gift. I broke out in a cold sweat as I realized, about 10 seconds before Gabby, that we had completely forgotten the Easter Bunny! Now how in the world do you forget that, you ask? No idea. But we did! I consider the day a success because Gabby didn't realize it until about 7:00 that night. ;) So a week later, when the Easter Bunny finally made an appearance, he/she (not really sure about that one!) left a note describing how an unnamed bandit kidnapped him and he had to be rescued by Santa and the Tooth Fairy. Once again we high fived each other when she bought it!
At some point you'd think we'd have devised some sort of alarm system to remind us. Do not ask me why it's those 2 that are so hard! We never forget to prepare for a birthday or Christmas! Can you picture us on Christmas morning..."Hey kids, we're guessing Santa got held up. I'm sure he'll bring your gifts tomorrow. C'mon, let's go eat breakfast." Pretty sure we'd have a riot!
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| "Dear Tooth fairy, How are you? We haven't heard from each other in a couple of years!! Will you give me proof that you're the tooth fairy? Like one of your shoes or something? Can you give me lots of money too? Thanks! from, Gabby |
It was almost a relief when Gabby realized that there was no Tooth Fairy or Easter Bunny. We got one whole year of reprieve. Then came our little people.
Between them, Will and Lydia have lost 18 teeth this year alone! I mean really, for the love of Pete, give us a break! Now I don't even bat an eyelash when I hear, "MOOOOM, the tooth fairy forgot to come! Again!" If I've had a cup of caffeine I answer sweetly to just be patient, she's very busy. If not, I tell them to go back to bed, they must be dreaming.
Tony on the other hand has gotten very smooth. With Will's last tooth, he said, "Are you sure? You should look again." while leaning down, swiping the tooth from under the pillow, and depositing a quarter. "Wow! She is so fast! She came while I was in the bathroom!" was Will's response when he looked and found the quarter 10 seconds later. Yeah, Tony about dislocated something patting himself on the back with that one!
When Easter rolled around this year, we pondered just telling the kids there was no Easter Bunny. I mean really, we don't eat sugar so they don't get candy in their baskets. We want them to focus on the actual meaning of Easter which is Christ, not on getting gifts in a basket from a large bunny. But we remembered eating peeps, hunting for eggs as kids, and pondering the make-up of that goop inside of Cadbury Eggs; and decided to just go with it. We were leaving town for Savannah the Friday before Easter, so my brilliant plan was to have it all ready and hidden for when we came on Easter night. And then I forgot all about it.
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| Easter Bunny attacks children for jelly beans! News at 11! |
Sooo, we arrive home a bit late. Kids all wake up as soon as we pull in the driveway and immediately start looking for Easter baskets in the house. Will decides they must be hidden somewhere. Gabby replays the Easter Bunny kidnapping incidence with such brilliance that Lydia spends the next week worried about the Easter Bunny's safety!
Everyday that week they got up and hunted all over for their baskets. And every day I woke up and remembered that we'd forgotten to get them. ARGH!! So finally Tony stopped on his way home one night and hit the end of season Easter section of Walmart. He only spent about $10-$15 on all 3 kids baskets and toys to put in them. After that I've decided that all future Easter Bunnies are coming a week late! ;) Of course we had to hide them in places they hadn't looked yet to maintain the story!
All I have to say, is the next time I'm late to meet you for coffee, just be glad you aren't one of my kids. You could be waiting for the Easter Bunny a long time! :)
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Boys will be boys!
OK, I am learning. Nothing new there, I'm always learning something I thought I knew about but find myself really lacking. But this boy thing. It has really been a new arena! I have studied up on parenting in general, parenting as a Christian, parenting foster children, parenting adopted children, parenting wounded children, parenting the adopted toddler...BUT the boy. Somehow I neglected that.
There is a vast ocean of knowledge that I missed! I taught school for 14 years and wish I could go apologize to every boy I ever taught. Sorry I didn't know!
I didn't know that boys can't sit in a chair without falling out at least once a minute. And they really aren't doing it on purpose (something about balance)! They really can't help touching the wall as they walk. Or jumping up on the base of every post, pillar, etc inside and outside the church. Or asking if they can take the dog out, naked. Him, not the dog!
They cannot help asking you 50 questions in 5 minutes. Even if you have not had a cup of coffee yet. They really want to know EVERYTHING! NOW! And "ask your dad" is not a sufficient answer because each, "ask your dad" lowers my abilities in his eyes!
They cannot resist leap frogging over whoever just knelt down to tie their shoe. Or asking you, "Would you die if you jumped from here?" While looking out a 4th story window, bridge over the interstate, or some other terrifying height that makes you immediately jump into an explanation of how, yes they would not only die but make you very sad in the process and if they ever did that you will kill them, so don't even think about it!
The number of times my younger brother impaled himself on something, needed something stitched up, or had a dislocated joint never really hit me until my own son climbed twenty or so feet up a pine tree and said, "Hey mom! Look how high I am! Sure would be cool if I could fly down!" I almost threw up!
I've never realized how much a boy enjoys being naked until I watched my son dance around with glee, without a stitch of clothes on, every night when I send him to take a shower. I never knew it was a integral part of boyhood to make fart noises, not just under the arm, no, that is not good enough! Any joint that hinges (knees, elbows) is seen as a challenge to make the best, most authentic fart sounds around. And if you can teach your 3 and 5 year old sisters to copy you, all the better!
I never realized the inner need of a boy to sword fight. I know. I should have realized this one in light of my husband's draw to that kilt-wearin' warrior, William Wallace, in Brave Heart. I suppose this, and the fact that said husband owns two swords "for decoration", should have been a dead give-away. But I missed that. I also missed the fact that the bigger the sword, the better. A ten foot long branch that fell from a tree last night is apparently a perfect sword with which to attack your 5 year old sister who is holding your plastic ninja sword and swinging it with one hand while using the other to cover her eyes!
When a boy says, "I didn't mean to" what he means is, "I was doing ____ (fill in the blank...tossing your glass Christmas ornament in the air, throwing a ball at her head, etc...) just to see what would happen or because it was there. I didn't mean to shatter that 35 year old ornament or to give her a black eye. I don't know how that happened!
I never knew how sensitive a boy is. How they wear their hearts on their sleeve. How, while they want to attack, jump, run, wrestle, climb; they also want to snuggle, hug, and know you love them. No matter what they break.
They may torment sisters. And take great joy in potty humor, again teaching it to any who willing younger sisters. But they are fierce protectors of sisters and all those weaker than them. They will follow a toddling baby around a play area is they perceive it is in any danger. And they will threaten any who villains who hurt their sister. The same sister they had in a headlock and almost knocked out her front teeth just moments before.
I'm learning a lot about this sensitive, sweet boy. If you have sons, please share your wisdom! In the meantime, I'm going to go read Bringing Up Boys. And hide all breakables! :)
There is a vast ocean of knowledge that I missed! I taught school for 14 years and wish I could go apologize to every boy I ever taught. Sorry I didn't know!
I didn't know that boys can't sit in a chair without falling out at least once a minute. And they really aren't doing it on purpose (something about balance)! They really can't help touching the wall as they walk. Or jumping up on the base of every post, pillar, etc inside and outside the church. Or asking if they can take the dog out, naked. Him, not the dog! They cannot help asking you 50 questions in 5 minutes. Even if you have not had a cup of coffee yet. They really want to know EVERYTHING! NOW! And "ask your dad" is not a sufficient answer because each, "ask your dad" lowers my abilities in his eyes!
They cannot resist leap frogging over whoever just knelt down to tie their shoe. Or asking you, "Would you die if you jumped from here?" While looking out a 4th story window, bridge over the interstate, or some other terrifying height that makes you immediately jump into an explanation of how, yes they would not only die but make you very sad in the process and if they ever did that you will kill them, so don't even think about it!
The number of times my younger brother impaled himself on something, needed something stitched up, or had a dislocated joint never really hit me until my own son climbed twenty or so feet up a pine tree and said, "Hey mom! Look how high I am! Sure would be cool if I could fly down!" I almost threw up!
I never realized the inner need of a boy to sword fight. I know. I should have realized this one in light of my husband's draw to that kilt-wearin' warrior, William Wallace, in Brave Heart. I suppose this, and the fact that said husband owns two swords "for decoration", should have been a dead give-away. But I missed that. I also missed the fact that the bigger the sword, the better. A ten foot long branch that fell from a tree last night is apparently a perfect sword with which to attack your 5 year old sister who is holding your plastic ninja sword and swinging it with one hand while using the other to cover her eyes!
When a boy says, "I didn't mean to" what he means is, "I was doing ____ (fill in the blank...tossing your glass Christmas ornament in the air, throwing a ball at her head, etc...) just to see what would happen or because it was there. I didn't mean to shatter that 35 year old ornament or to give her a black eye. I don't know how that happened!
I never knew how sensitive a boy is. How they wear their hearts on their sleeve. How, while they want to attack, jump, run, wrestle, climb; they also want to snuggle, hug, and know you love them. No matter what they break.
They may torment sisters. And take great joy in potty humor, again teaching it to any who willing younger sisters. But they are fierce protectors of sisters and all those weaker than them. They will follow a toddling baby around a play area is they perceive it is in any danger. And they will threaten any who villains who hurt their sister. The same sister they had in a headlock and almost knocked out her front teeth just moments before.
I'm learning a lot about this sensitive, sweet boy. If you have sons, please share your wisdom! In the meantime, I'm going to go read Bringing Up Boys. And hide all breakables! :)
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Giving Thanks
I watched with interest the people who were posting 30 days of gratitude on Face book around Thanksgiving. I had a friend loan me the book 1,000 Blessings by Ann Voskamp. In addition to making me want to quit writing because I could never write as beautifully as she does and I desire to, it stirred me to think of my blessings. It's made me listen in wonder as my children pray, "God thank you for our food. Please help us to have a great day." What if we don't? What if the day is crummy? Are we no longer thankful that we, at least, had the day?
"This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24
Doesn't say anything about the day being good, does it? It's made me reflect on the State of theUnion and consider gathering the troops in the GonzoNation to listen to my State of the Union Address (Tony and I are co-dictator's so they really have no choice!). We've been having lots challenges with negative attitudes, complaining, grumbling, groaning, etc at our house recently. And that's just me! You should hear what the kids are doing! Just kidding (not really!).
In all seriousness, human beings seem to yearn so much for pleasure that we cannot see all that we are blessed with. Heck, we in the States, even need a holiday to remind ourselves to be thankful!!
I know that when I'm desiring more money, better clothes, children who behave 24/7, 30 lbs to magically disappear from my stomach, thighs and butt, I don't usually follow it up with, "but at least I have a great husband, kids who are healthy, clothes to wear, a working car, the ability to stay at home and home school..."
It's funny. Or maybe it's sad. Being a stay at home mom and getting to home-school my children has always been a desire. A big family has always been a desire. A working car that fits all of us comfortably has always been a desire. Yet I find myself at time resenting those blessings. The kids are interfering with my agenda today to get the house cleaned. I love my van yet I covet the Mercedes van one of Gabby's classmate's family has (seats 11...whoa mama!).
Why cannot I not get a desire, and find contentment in that desire? Are you like me? Do you always desire the newest iphone even when the previous one still works just fine? Do you get a new ___ (fill in the blank) then turn green with envy when you see someone with a nicer one?
And if I'm so greedy, how in the world can I teach my children to be happy with the blessings they have? I mean, I usually give my self the biggest piece of pizza and fuss at them if they complain that their sibling got a bigger piece!
How will I ever teach them to focus on their hearts and on others rather than their material possessions if I am not content with my clothes (granted they are completely out of fashion and some date back to my college days!)?
And how often do I, in my self-absorbed life, forget to tell a person that I am thankful for them in my life?
Sorry I have to take a break and go repent now because until I typed this, I thought I was mildly selfish. Now I'm realizing that I'm greedy, self-serving, selfish, self-centered...gosh...I'm just like my kids! I wonder how God keeps His patience with me!
I read about a man who chose to begin writing a thank you note each day. Just one a day. As a result of his thank you notes, relationships were mended, new friends made, laughter, love, and joy resulted. Now that seems a small effort but I'm pretty sure I still owe some people thank you notes from our wedding almost 17 years ago so not thinking that will work for me.
Instead I've decided to see how many blessing I can think of and list in the next few minutes. Just so you know, if you are reading this, I consider you a blessing. God certainly does too. :)
Disclaimer: Before anyone gets his/her panties in a twist, these are NOT in order of preference or importance other than #1!!!
OK, now I KNOW I'm selfish, self-centered, self...whatever! In just over 30 minutes I thought of 50 blessings that are in my life. I know I could go on forever. I doubt you are as self-centered as I am but I hope you will take time to thank God for the day, and find joy in it no matter what it holds. And I pray that God will reveal to you the many blessings He has bestowed in your life!
"This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24
"This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24
Doesn't say anything about the day being good, does it? It's made me reflect on the State of the
In all seriousness, human beings seem to yearn so much for pleasure that we cannot see all that we are blessed with. Heck, we in the States, even need a holiday to remind ourselves to be thankful!!
I know that when I'm desiring more money, better clothes, children who behave 24/7, 30 lbs to magically disappear from my stomach, thighs and butt, I don't usually follow it up with, "but at least I have a great husband, kids who are healthy, clothes to wear, a working car, the ability to stay at home and home school..."
It's funny. Or maybe it's sad. Being a stay at home mom and getting to home-school my children has always been a desire. A big family has always been a desire. A working car that fits all of us comfortably has always been a desire. Yet I find myself at time resenting those blessings. The kids are interfering with my agenda today to get the house cleaned. I love my van yet I covet the Mercedes van one of Gabby's classmate's family has (seats 11...whoa mama!).
Why cannot I not get a desire, and find contentment in that desire? Are you like me? Do you always desire the newest iphone even when the previous one still works just fine? Do you get a new ___ (fill in the blank) then turn green with envy when you see someone with a nicer one?
And if I'm so greedy, how in the world can I teach my children to be happy with the blessings they have? I mean, I usually give my self the biggest piece of pizza and fuss at them if they complain that their sibling got a bigger piece!
How will I ever teach them to focus on their hearts and on others rather than their material possessions if I am not content with my clothes (granted they are completely out of fashion and some date back to my college days!)?
And how often do I, in my self-absorbed life, forget to tell a person that I am thankful for them in my life?
Sorry I have to take a break and go repent now because until I typed this, I thought I was mildly selfish. Now I'm realizing that I'm greedy, self-serving, selfish, self-centered...gosh...I'm just like my kids! I wonder how God keeps His patience with me!
I read about a man who chose to begin writing a thank you note each day. Just one a day. As a result of his thank you notes, relationships were mended, new friends made, laughter, love, and joy resulted. Now that seems a small effort but I'm pretty sure I still owe some people thank you notes from our wedding almost 17 years ago so not thinking that will work for me.
Instead I've decided to see how many blessing I can think of and list in the next few minutes. Just so you know, if you are reading this, I consider you a blessing. God certainly does too. :)
Disclaimer: Before anyone gets his/her panties in a twist, these are NOT in order of preference or importance other than #1!!!
1. God the creator of all things who sent Jesus Christ to die for my sins!! Without that, all is lost.
2. My husband, Tony, who puts up with me daily and tells me I'm beautiful EVERY day (in spite of the 30 lbs I need to lose!). Now that's dedication! Thank you for being an amazing father to our children and for having such a big heart for orphans.
3. My mother who persevered through single parenthood for many years. Thanks for always being there to lift me up when I am sad and celebrating all of life's victories with me!
4. My grandmother, Lillian. She just turned 90 and is still an amazing story teller! She was always there with unconditional love, hugs, and a tomato sandwich fresh from her tomato plants.
5. My grandfather, Big Driz. He's the coolest tie-dye wearin' 89 year old I've ever met! I'll never forget him taming a squirrel from his yard to eat from his hand.
6. Aunt Mary signed all letters "Mary the Berry
7. Uncle John who makes a better hand spider than anyone I know and always got me in trouble for laughing uncontrollably at the table at Thanksgiving.
8. Aunt Susan whose wisdom is deep and who shares herself unselfishly. Thanks for being there in times of crises and talking me through it!
9. Uncle Bob who was my dining hall connection at UGA. As food services manager, he opened a dining hall early Saturday morning just for the band so we could eat before games. Thanks for all the waffles! And GO DAWGS!
10. My dad who taught me how to fish (not that I'm any good at it) and got me a fishing pole with a purple line! Thanks for putting up with my griping on EVERY hike between the ages of 10 and 19! Now some of my fondest childhood memories are of summers in Montana and Utah
11. My stepmother, Dianne, who tried to pass on some of her amazing artistic and creative talents to me despite my lack of skills in those areas. She is my Christmas decorating guru!
12. My Aunt Lynne who listened to me bare my soul on so many occasions and loved me anyway. Who treated me like one of her own when I felt unowned. Who helped me understand things that were hard. Thanks "Aint Lynne" (in my best southern accent).
13. Aunt Patty who always let me join her brood of kids when I came for summer visits, let us climb her cherry tree and eat all we could, and put up with me mooning over a boy who lived around the block for like 5 summers!
14. My Grandma Dunn, may she rest in peace. She always kept her kitchen stocked with red licorice. Not Twizzlers, but the giant bucket with one long rope! She loved me no matter what, just like a Grandma should.
15. My mother-in-law Joyce. Thanks for treating me like one of your own from the very beginning. And for always laughing at my stories.
16. My children. They are such huge blessings. They all make us laugh and bring us such joy. They show me how God loves me!
17. Children in general!
18. Starbucks Venti Breve Lattes. Enough said.
19. Ferris Beulers Day Off
20. Pachabel's Canon (or Paca Bell's Cannon if you're our child)
21. Barking Spiders
22. Cool breezes on a summer night
23. Late night conversations with good friends
24. Friends who stood in the gap while we labored over our adoption, prayed with us, loved us, gave us furniture, clothing, toys, dinner, hugs...
25. Perimeter Church
26. My D Group Ladies
27. Our dog Winston. Most days. ;)
28. All the cats who've let me love them and kept my lap warm on cold nights.
29. Sweet Gideon
30. Tricycles and side walk chalk.
31. DVDs
32. White boards and play dough (provided no children stick it up their nasal cavities! Yes I speak from experience. And no it was not a good one.)
33. Fresh fruit at the farmers market
34. Crock pots
35. Vacuum cleaners that work
36. Perimeter Christian School
37. World's Softest Socks (Oh you have GOT to try these ladies with cold feet!)
38. Stuffed animals
39. The funny things my children say hourly
40. Moments that take your breath away
41. Lydia
42. My inadequacies keeping me humble
43. Southern accents
44. Georgia
45. Mountains and pine trees
46. Toilet paper :)
47. My children telling me they love me
48. Gabby's singing and how it lifts my spirits
49. Hot dogs and frozen pizzas!!!
50. You dear friend, where ever you are.
OK, now I KNOW I'm selfish, self-centered, self...whatever! In just over 30 minutes I thought of 50 blessings that are in my life. I know I could go on forever. I doubt you are as self-centered as I am but I hope you will take time to thank God for the day, and find joy in it no matter what it holds. And I pray that God will reveal to you the many blessings He has bestowed in your life!
"This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118:24
This was not my idea!
Ever had God press something into you that scared the crap out of you?
Last time that happened we went from 1 to 4 kids (and no, this is not an announcement that we're adopting again). It's funny how just thinking of something can make me feel panicky, Like, "Seriously God? You want me to do what? That's not even on the same continent as my comfort zone!"
Sometimes I forget that God can see the whole road, while I can only see to the next bend. The road curves and I lose sight of my path.
When I stopped teaching school last May, I was trying to readjust. Breathe. Two years of whirlwind stopped. Adjust to having 4 kids. Adjust to being at home (uh-oh, time to learn to cook). Learn how to homeschool. Be with my own children 24/7.
It's taken more than 6 months. I'm adjusted (notice I didn't say "well-adjusted!). I've even gotten some routines going and SOME days we maintain a schedule. Not that you could call it a schedule because it's not very regular.
So now I'm pondering. Is this where I am to be? Am I to find contentment as a stay-at-home, homeschooling mom? Or a stay-at-home, send my kids to school, be the room-mom, mom? Believe me, I could easily be VERY happy with those roles, as is!
But there is this underlying restlessness. This sense that I have something to do. As if God is telling me He has something more. Apparently he's not seen the pile of laundry waiting for me!
I'm reading Ann Voskamp's blog (http://www.aholyexperience.com/). I would so love to meet her! She has this poetic writing that makes me feel as if I'm breathing in God when I'm reading. In a post I read recently, she's describing her nerves at speaking at a women's conference (she wrote the book One Thousand Gifts). And I hear God whisper into my heart. "You too."
"Oh, no, what?" I actually looked around to see who God could be talking to! I was alone. Thus began the argument. "I haven't written a book! What the heck would I say to a bunch of women? God, I even forgot to do my bible study this week for my class. I'm sure there's someone better!"
"Oh no. I mean you." At this point my heart begins to pound and my palms get sweaty. "Surely you jest." I feel God's gentle smile. It's like watching a baby fight sleep, knowing they will succumb soon. You just smile and wait. So God smiles at me. And waits.
So after a time, I share this with my husband. I think God wants me to write a book and speak to women.
"About what?" he asks.
"No idea!" I reply. "Honestly, I think there's some mistake. I have no idea what He thinks I have to tell anyone."
"It's not from you. It's from Him. Speaking through you."
Ahhh. Well that makes me feel better. Hope He starts speaking through me soon. I share with my discipleship group and they all are so encouraging I feel beholden to start writing this book that I don't know what will be about. I sit and stare at the computer and end up on facebook.
The scary thing is, I've thought about it before. Talking to women. About being a mom, wife, daughter. Wish I knew what I was talking to them about! I want specifics! A script would be nice!
This is one of those defining moments. And I know I'm flubbing it. When people say they are writing a book, people always ask what it's about. "No idea" isn't really a great answer.
But isn't that how God works? He gives us just enough then he lets us get used to it. Then He begins to work. And amazing things happen. So I guess my flubbing won't really matter because it's all God's work anyway!
Ever have something like that in your life? Has God ever presented you with a plan for your life that you thought was out of your league? For someone else who had it all together?
But those all-together people? They don't truly exist. Just ask them. They'll quickly tell you it's an illusion (or they're lying!). They have piles too. Maybe it's not laundry but piles of something. Insecurities. Fears. Papers. Bills. Something piles up on us all and makes us think we can't. We aren't capable. We aren't meant to. We aren't good enough.
Amoung the piles of laundry and unfiled papers, I have other piles. They whisper to me those words of inadequacy. "Who are you to try to raise 4 kids? Who are you to think you have something to offer? Who are you to think you are a good wife, a good mother? Who are you to think you can put pen to paper and have something worth reading? Who are you to think you could ever fit into that size?"
Isn't that how we all feel? Less. Inadequate. Damaged goods. And we are. Our hearts hurt from our failures. From casual words that stung. From childhood pain that we can recall as if it were yesterday.
Funny how God makes sure we get it from all sides. He communicates a vision. Then someone makes an off hand comment. About a week before that a woman in my discipleship group commented that she loved my blog and I'm a really good writer. I thanked her but not much thought. Then, not 24 hours after this argument with God that I had still not given in to, a friend commented casually, "Hey, I've been waiting for you to update your blog!" I know she thought I was nuts when I stammered and stared at her before finally spitting out some answer. No idea what I said.
Then I see a friend carrying Ann Voskamps book. We spent a weekend together and that book stared at me for 3 days.
Recently we've starting reading and discussing the book of Exodus with our kids. We get into chapters 3 and 4 and we're talking about how Moses sees the burning bush and meets God. God gives him instructions to go back to Egypt to bring out the Israelites. We go through all of Moses objections and disbelief as well as God's answers. I don't think twice about it.
UNTIL...Exodus 4:10-13 pops up in my bible study this past week. Moses has already protested that no one will believe him, TWICE. So God's getting a bit exasperated I think.
Now Moses pleads with him, "Oh my Lord, I am not eloquent, either in the past or since you have spoken to your servant, but I am slow of speech and of tongue." Ex 4:10 Look God, I stutter, I'm clumsy, they hate me there, send someone else. There must be someone better, more capable, someone not wanted for murder!
God's answer? "Who has made man's mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the LORD? Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak." Ex 4:11 I gave you that stutter, boy. You just have to go, it's my words they will hear! God made Moses with a speech impediment so all would know it was God's power, not Moses'. So God would get the glory! OK so that got my attention. God's words. Not mine.
If you continue to read, just like me, just like my teenager, Moses KEEPS ON ARGUING!! But he (Moses) said, "Oh my Lord, please send someone else." Then the anger of the Lord was kindled against Moses." Ex 4:13
Seriously Moses? This is God! I feel like a kid watching another kid argue with the principal and thinking, "he is gonna die!" But isn't that what I am doing? Letting my fear overwhelm me so that I kick and struggle against my Saviour like a drowning person fights against the one who has dived into save them?
OK so now I'm seeing my childishness. But I'm also see how much glory God will get if I follow this path. I began this post with the words "scared the crap out of me" but beyond that didn't know what I was going to say. Yet here I am, many words later. I find that when I finish a post, I often read back and wonder where the words came from. And I see God's hand at work. He dictated and I just held the pen.
So any of you who tell me you cry and laugh (a friend today told me it made her "craugh"!) when you read my posts, just know that God reached out to touch your heart as you read. He had something to say and you were on His heart. So, from this inadequate, surrounded by piles of laundry and insecurity, mom...I hope you hear and know, they are words from one who loves you. I am just the typist. :)
Amoung the piles of laundry and unfiled papers, I have other piles. They whisper to me those words of inadequacy. "Who are you to try to raise 4 kids? Who are you to think you have something to offer? Who are you to think you are a good wife, a good mother? Who are you to think you can put pen to paper and have something worth reading? Who are you to think you could ever fit into that size?"
Isn't that how we all feel? Less. Inadequate. Damaged goods. And we are. Our hearts hurt from our failures. From casual words that stung. From childhood pain that we can recall as if it were yesterday.
Funny how God makes sure we get it from all sides. He communicates a vision. Then someone makes an off hand comment. About a week before that a woman in my discipleship group commented that she loved my blog and I'm a really good writer. I thanked her but not much thought. Then, not 24 hours after this argument with God that I had still not given in to, a friend commented casually, "Hey, I've been waiting for you to update your blog!" I know she thought I was nuts when I stammered and stared at her before finally spitting out some answer. No idea what I said.
Then I see a friend carrying Ann Voskamps book. We spent a weekend together and that book stared at me for 3 days.
Recently we've starting reading and discussing the book of Exodus with our kids. We get into chapters 3 and 4 and we're talking about how Moses sees the burning bush and meets God. God gives him instructions to go back to Egypt to bring out the Israelites. We go through all of Moses objections and disbelief as well as God's answers. I don't think twice about it.
UNTIL...Exodus 4:10-13 pops up in my bible study this past week. Moses has already protested that no one will believe him, TWICE. So God's getting a bit exasperated I think.
Now Moses pleads with him, "Oh my Lord, I am not eloquent, either in the past or since you have spoken to your servant, but I am slow of speech and of tongue." Ex 4:10 Look God, I stutter, I'm clumsy, they hate me there, send someone else. There must be someone better, more capable, someone not wanted for murder!
God's answer? "Who has made man's mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the LORD? Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak." Ex 4:11 I gave you that stutter, boy. You just have to go, it's my words they will hear! God made Moses with a speech impediment so all would know it was God's power, not Moses'. So God would get the glory! OK so that got my attention. God's words. Not mine.
If you continue to read, just like me, just like my teenager, Moses KEEPS ON ARGUING!! But he (Moses) said, "Oh my Lord, please send someone else." Then the anger of the Lord was kindled against Moses." Ex 4:13
Seriously Moses? This is God! I feel like a kid watching another kid argue with the principal and thinking, "he is gonna die!" But isn't that what I am doing? Letting my fear overwhelm me so that I kick and struggle against my Saviour like a drowning person fights against the one who has dived into save them?
OK so now I'm seeing my childishness. But I'm also see how much glory God will get if I follow this path. I began this post with the words "scared the crap out of me" but beyond that didn't know what I was going to say. Yet here I am, many words later. I find that when I finish a post, I often read back and wonder where the words came from. And I see God's hand at work. He dictated and I just held the pen.
So any of you who tell me you cry and laugh (a friend today told me it made her "craugh"!) when you read my posts, just know that God reached out to touch your heart as you read. He had something to say and you were on His heart. So, from this inadequate, surrounded by piles of laundry and insecurity, mom...I hope you hear and know, they are words from one who loves you. I am just the typist. :)
Suffering
I met a man the other day. He sat down at the Lego table in the dentist office holding his child. She struggled to sit up on her own. "She likes to look at the children." he explained, nodding toward my chattering kids. "She is my grand-daughter. She has cerebral palsy. She doesn't talk yet." he tells me as he wipes her chin with a bib around her neck. "Her name is Abby. Abigail."
"Hello Abby" I say. Her smile lights up the room as her eyes search for who called her name. "What a beautiful smile." I search for words to say that are normal rather than clumsy. Not pity but kindness. How do you extend that to a stranger who is clearly in some pain?
"My daughter, she pushed too long in labor. She did not live and Abby, we all take care of her." His dark eyes reflect his sadness and love at the same time. "My other daughters, the other grandparents, we all help. They say her mind is good." I listen, struggling to put in to words the emotions I feel at him having shared his pain. "My daughter, she was so smart. She went to Georgia Tech. She had so many job offers. So smart!"
"HOW OLD IS SHE?" Madi yells. "Three, just like you" I tell her. "Why can't she talk?" Lydia asks. "She is learning. She will one day." I respond. "She wants to watch you play." he tells the girls. "HI ABBY!" Madi yells at her, like she yells everything. "Abby smiles and giggles." It is a beautiful sound.
I wonder how he does it. Tells a stranger about his daughter without breaking down. I don't know if I could be that strong. Even after 3 years. "Oh God, please hold this family in your arms." I whisper as I walk out of the office.
A friend is married to a man for life. She loves him. The act of loving, not just the feeling. He is not a Christian. She is. She prays, begs God to bring him to Him. Prays and begs for God to use the pain to remake her in his image. What does it all mean? Why did God put her there?
A beautiful young girl of 14 is disfigured by her husband. She is shunned and eventually hidden. If you look past the marks he left on her, you see eyes that are deep pools of pain. Shame. She spends her time covering the face that God loves.
Another friend tells of her struggles to maintain life in the face of her husband's health challenges. She is living for both of them. Doing it all. She is strong until we ask how we can help her. And she crumbles in tears. She does not see her strength. She says through it all she is pressed but not crushed. I picture a beautiful flower pressed between the pages of her heart. Pressed to God.
A dear friend has a daughter. She struggles. Their relationship reached a breaking point. The pain of sending your baby away for a season. I cannot fathom the pain. Yet she gets on her knees and thanks God for that baby. Thanks God for a safe place for her daughter to go. Asks for God to teach her through these trials.
She glows. There is a certain woman who just glows. Her smile is beautiful and her laughter makes me smile. My children barely know her but they are drawn to her as moths to a flame. How does she find the strength? For a decade her body has been fighting illness. I would be so tired. How does she not give up? Yet she prays for others. Her words soothe my soul. She serves those around her.
A fading marriage. Life-long friendships suddenly ended. Estranged children. Strained relationships with parents. Divorces. Illnesses. Death. My own children's pain of broken bonds, fear of abandonment.
I have always felt that God "allowed" things to happen. Or maybe he just didn't prevent them. And then he'd use them to make us stronger or whatever. But I was just making something up to keep myself from thinking God could be bad. My own theology. Hmmm. I think the bible says something about a person who counsels himself. A fool, I'm pretty sure it's called.
But I recently had my thoughts changed for me. If I believe God is all-knowing, benevolent, in control, how can I think he'd just benignly watch bad things happen? I mean, this is the God that caused the flood. He wiped out all of man-kind except for a chosen few. This is the God that parted the red sea then let it go and drowned the Egyptians in the way. Egyptians who were His creation. That He loved. If God has numbered the hairs on my head, and knows the exact moment of my birth and death, I'm pretty sure He doesn't sit idly by and watch the world go by.
I never liked the thought of those disasters. "The God of the Old Testament" was a phrase we used. Like He had a personality change somewhere around the time of Jesus birth or something!
So I'm studying suffering with a group of ladies (now there's a fun topic!). And I was ready with my, "He allows but doesn't cause" belief. Then I read Isaiah 45:1-7. Apparently I'd been trivializing God. God the Father. Creator. I was viewing Him as a benign old man watching events unfold and seeing how he could put a good spin on them.
"I create the light and make the darkness. I send good times and the bad times. I, the Lord, am the one who does these things." Isaiah 34:7 NLT
In the ESV is says, "I make well-being and create calamity." Calamity? Disaster? He doesn't allow, watch, or wait. He makes it happen. Now two thoughts instantaneously go through my head. "Really? Really God? You purposely took Alyssa from us? You let her drown? You purposely made my friend sick? Watch marriages fail? Cause tornadoes?" The second thought? "OLD TESTAMENT GOD!" Not that I voiced these in our discussion!
So our discussion continues...In John 9:1-4. The disciples asked Jesus, "Why is the man blind, because of his sin or his parents sins?" Jesus response?“It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him,..." So God made him blind? So that God's work would be show to the world. They would see His glory in the man.
At first that confounded me. Why God? Why would you cause pain deliberately? Then I began to listen to the stories around me. Stories of pain so intense that the person runs to God because there are no other options. Times of confusion that force turning to our creator the clear our thoughts. And God clears our thoughts and His glory shines through. The pain does not evaporate. But it becomes a way for God to show His glory.
"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing to the glory that will be revealed in us." Romans 8:18
Then I realized, pain and suffering was what drove me to realize my desperate need for my savior. Pain of inadequacy. Fear of another layoff. I recall vividly, walking around our small house for hours, hyperventilating and crying, not knowing how we were going to pay our bills. Phone or power cut off again. Our parents desperately trying to help us not lose our house to the bank. Desperate for affirmation from a husband who was struggling to survive the emotions of being out of work. Losing Alyssa. Losing my temper over trivialities. Striving for recognition at work. Loss from a miscarriage and buried desires to bear a child. Shame that I was jealous of others who could get pregnant, who were prettier, richer, more courageous. Fearful of others seeing my heart. Seeing the inadequate person I really was. Wanting to seem perfect. Wanting a God sized hole in my heart filled by a man, a job, a child.
As I surveyed each of those painful moments, I came to see how God was using them to pull me ever closer. To show me how He, and only He, can fill the void. How He can soothe. And even produce bounty out of tragedy. How many times has he held me together that I did not even see. If we had not gone through what we saw as the tragedy of losing Alyssa, would we now have such broken hearts for orphans? If I had gotten pregnant, I would not have any of the children we have now. That thought rocks me. Shocks me even. My children's painful beginning has a purpose both for me and for them. Being in our family now was part of God's purpose.
Each challenge made me turn, and lean, on the only one who could truly hold me up. And knowing that God is always purposeful, while sometimes I still want to say, "Really God? Why? Why me?" Now I am beginning to think, "I don't like this but God how will you use this to teach me? Form me?" I have comfort knowing that nothing happens randomly. God planned for my life. And His glory will be revealed in it. Now that's something!
I read and wrote about once how someone felt adoption was a distant plan B for children. And I thought that Jesus somehow was God's plan B. But I'm pretty sure the creator of the universe never had a plan B. That this is all part of God's design. There are those who will argue against predestination. I'll let my much smarter husband and 13 year old respond to your arguments (I had to say "Predesti-what?" when she asked me if I believed in it!).
I just know that God already knew Adam and Eve were gonna mess up. He knew you and I weren't gonna be able to pull off the, "I'm perfect" image for long. And He knows just where to press us so we'll lean into him. And if you'll lean into Him in those "why God" moments, He will hold you until His glory shines through.
Praying that you will all be "pressed but not crushed" as he turns your face to Him. Love you.
"Hello Abby" I say. Her smile lights up the room as her eyes search for who called her name. "What a beautiful smile." I search for words to say that are normal rather than clumsy. Not pity but kindness. How do you extend that to a stranger who is clearly in some pain?
"My daughter, she pushed too long in labor. She did not live and Abby, we all take care of her." His dark eyes reflect his sadness and love at the same time. "My other daughters, the other grandparents, we all help. They say her mind is good." I listen, struggling to put in to words the emotions I feel at him having shared his pain. "My daughter, she was so smart. She went to Georgia Tech. She had so many job offers. So smart!"
"HOW OLD IS SHE?" Madi yells. "Three, just like you" I tell her. "Why can't she talk?" Lydia asks. "She is learning. She will one day." I respond. "She wants to watch you play." he tells the girls. "HI ABBY!" Madi yells at her, like she yells everything. "Abby smiles and giggles." It is a beautiful sound.
I wonder how he does it. Tells a stranger about his daughter without breaking down. I don't know if I could be that strong. Even after 3 years. "Oh God, please hold this family in your arms." I whisper as I walk out of the office.
A friend is married to a man for life. She loves him. The act of loving, not just the feeling. He is not a Christian. She is. She prays, begs God to bring him to Him. Prays and begs for God to use the pain to remake her in his image. What does it all mean? Why did God put her there?
A beautiful young girl of 14 is disfigured by her husband. She is shunned and eventually hidden. If you look past the marks he left on her, you see eyes that are deep pools of pain. Shame. She spends her time covering the face that God loves.
Another friend tells of her struggles to maintain life in the face of her husband's health challenges. She is living for both of them. Doing it all. She is strong until we ask how we can help her. And she crumbles in tears. She does not see her strength. She says through it all she is pressed but not crushed. I picture a beautiful flower pressed between the pages of her heart. Pressed to God.
A dear friend has a daughter. She struggles. Their relationship reached a breaking point. The pain of sending your baby away for a season. I cannot fathom the pain. Yet she gets on her knees and thanks God for that baby. Thanks God for a safe place for her daughter to go. Asks for God to teach her through these trials.
She glows. There is a certain woman who just glows. Her smile is beautiful and her laughter makes me smile. My children barely know her but they are drawn to her as moths to a flame. How does she find the strength? For a decade her body has been fighting illness. I would be so tired. How does she not give up? Yet she prays for others. Her words soothe my soul. She serves those around her.
A fading marriage. Life-long friendships suddenly ended. Estranged children. Strained relationships with parents. Divorces. Illnesses. Death. My own children's pain of broken bonds, fear of abandonment.
I have always felt that God "allowed" things to happen. Or maybe he just didn't prevent them. And then he'd use them to make us stronger or whatever. But I was just making something up to keep myself from thinking God could be bad. My own theology. Hmmm. I think the bible says something about a person who counsels himself. A fool, I'm pretty sure it's called.
But I recently had my thoughts changed for me. If I believe God is all-knowing, benevolent, in control, how can I think he'd just benignly watch bad things happen? I mean, this is the God that caused the flood. He wiped out all of man-kind except for a chosen few. This is the God that parted the red sea then let it go and drowned the Egyptians in the way. Egyptians who were His creation. That He loved. If God has numbered the hairs on my head, and knows the exact moment of my birth and death, I'm pretty sure He doesn't sit idly by and watch the world go by.
I never liked the thought of those disasters. "The God of the Old Testament" was a phrase we used. Like He had a personality change somewhere around the time of Jesus birth or something!
So I'm studying suffering with a group of ladies (now there's a fun topic!). And I was ready with my, "He allows but doesn't cause" belief. Then I read Isaiah 45:1-7. Apparently I'd been trivializing God. God the Father. Creator. I was viewing Him as a benign old man watching events unfold and seeing how he could put a good spin on them.
"I create the light and make the darkness. I send good times and the bad times. I, the Lord, am the one who does these things." Isaiah 34:7 NLT
In the ESV is says, "I make well-being and create calamity." Calamity? Disaster? He doesn't allow, watch, or wait. He makes it happen. Now two thoughts instantaneously go through my head. "Really? Really God? You purposely took Alyssa from us? You let her drown? You purposely made my friend sick? Watch marriages fail? Cause tornadoes?" The second thought? "OLD TESTAMENT GOD!" Not that I voiced these in our discussion!
So our discussion continues...In John 9:1-4. The disciples asked Jesus, "Why is the man blind, because of his sin or his parents sins?" Jesus response?
At first that confounded me. Why God? Why would you cause pain deliberately? Then I began to listen to the stories around me. Stories of pain so intense that the person runs to God because there are no other options. Times of confusion that force turning to our creator the clear our thoughts. And God clears our thoughts and His glory shines through. The pain does not evaporate. But it becomes a way for God to show His glory.
"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing to the glory that will be revealed in us." Romans 8:18
Then I realized, pain and suffering was what drove me to realize my desperate need for my savior. Pain of inadequacy. Fear of another layoff. I recall vividly, walking around our small house for hours, hyperventilating and crying, not knowing how we were going to pay our bills. Phone or power cut off again. Our parents desperately trying to help us not lose our house to the bank. Desperate for affirmation from a husband who was struggling to survive the emotions of being out of work. Losing Alyssa. Losing my temper over trivialities. Striving for recognition at work. Loss from a miscarriage and buried desires to bear a child. Shame that I was jealous of others who could get pregnant, who were prettier, richer, more courageous. Fearful of others seeing my heart. Seeing the inadequate person I really was. Wanting to seem perfect. Wanting a God sized hole in my heart filled by a man, a job, a child.
As I surveyed each of those painful moments, I came to see how God was using them to pull me ever closer. To show me how He, and only He, can fill the void. How He can soothe. And even produce bounty out of tragedy. How many times has he held me together that I did not even see. If we had not gone through what we saw as the tragedy of losing Alyssa, would we now have such broken hearts for orphans? If I had gotten pregnant, I would not have any of the children we have now. That thought rocks me. Shocks me even. My children's painful beginning has a purpose both for me and for them. Being in our family now was part of God's purpose.
Each challenge made me turn, and lean, on the only one who could truly hold me up. And knowing that God is always purposeful, while sometimes I still want to say, "Really God? Why? Why me?" Now I am beginning to think, "I don't like this but God how will you use this to teach me? Form me?" I have comfort knowing that nothing happens randomly. God planned for my life. And His glory will be revealed in it. Now that's something!
I read and wrote about once how someone felt adoption was a distant plan B for children. And I thought that Jesus somehow was God's plan B. But I'm pretty sure the creator of the universe never had a plan B. That this is all part of God's design. There are those who will argue against predestination. I'll let my much smarter husband and 13 year old respond to your arguments (I had to say "Predesti-what?" when she asked me if I believed in it!).
I just know that God already knew Adam and Eve were gonna mess up. He knew you and I weren't gonna be able to pull off the, "I'm perfect" image for long. And He knows just where to press us so we'll lean into him. And if you'll lean into Him in those "why God" moments, He will hold you until His glory shines through.
Praying that you will all be "pressed but not crushed" as he turns your face to Him. Love you.
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