What Mary Might Have Been Thinking on This Night

My own rendition of what Mary may have been thinking on the night Jesus was born...

"It was just like any other day. I had helped out my mom in the kitchen for hours, preparing food and collecting water. It was hot and my feet had swelled in the sandals that were just a little too tight. There wasn’t anything special about the day. Truthfully, there wasn’t anything special about me. I am young and was just sticking to the ordinary life I was given. Sure, I was engaged to Joseph. That was exciting but I was nervous too. I didn’t know him very well; my dad had arranged the marriage.

But when the angel appeared to me I knew my life would never be the same. He was a majestic creature, covered in feathers and empowered by a shining light all around him. His lips did not move but he spoke in a voice that drove straight in to the deepest part of my spirit. He began to tell me I would bear a son; that son would be great and rule over a kingdom that has no end. What? I didn’t understand.  I was a virgin. I didn’t know anything about being a mom to a normal child, let alone the son of the Most High. My hands began to tremble and in disbelief, I shut my eyes and lowered my head.  I felt as if the weight of the world had just been put on my shoulders. My legs buckled and I fell to my knees. I was terrified. But as the blessed angel spoke to me his heavenly message began to whisper away my fears with four words “Do not be afraid.” 

At that declaration, I raised my head. Who am I? Who am I to be chosen this holy task? Who I am to raise this child that will be the Savior we have long awaited for? Who am I to say “no” to God? As the reality of the situation began to set in, my heart leapt and my body shook with joy. One by one I bent my legs, then straightened them as I stood up. Raising my head and with my arms outstretched high, I had no other response to the angel except, “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.”

I cannot comprehend the events that have brought me to this place; I cannot grasp all of the ways of God. I can tell you we had to come here to Bethlehem for the census. It figures it would be the exact same time I was expecting this baby. Joseph has been wonderful and led us the whole way on this long journey. When we got here, I was exhausted beyond what words can explain. I didn’t even mind staying here in this barn, this hay filled stable shared with cows and goats. I just wanted to rest. The labor was painful, twisting and tightening the flesh of my womb, as if ripping and tearing out every ounce of strength within me. At the awaited moment the baby was coming, I held Joseph's hand as tight as I could, holding to a confidence that this would be just as it was predicted. With a low and quiet moan, I mustered one final push and slowly the baby arrived.   

My son, who was to be named Jesus, was born! I reached out and pulled him up to my chest… but it was I that was drawn-in to Him.  I wrapped my arms tightly around Him but somehow felt surrounded by His presence. He has 10 fingers, 10 toes and is so tiny just like other babies I have seen before but this is not an ordinary child. He has an undeniable strength, limitless in His existence. There is a seriousness about Him as if He already knows the weight of His birth is more than any scale can measure. I am His mom but I am compelled to follow His lead. Instantly my heart has surrendered to Him. I am in awe and compelled to worship this divine Child. He has captivated my soul and I want to sing along with the unknown voices all around me already praising Him. It is nighttime but it is not dark; with this birth a light has dawned and a new hope is all around us. A lost and broken world can rejoice as we receive this child. A savior has come; His name is Jesus and He is Christ the Lord!"

Following God the “Magi Way”

Expect something.

Matthew 2:

 After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem ² and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.”

Magi were educated. They dedicated their lives to interpreting divine matters for kings and rulers, often times with astrology. They were professionals and experts in their field of work. They had been expectant and ready. They knew exactly what to do when the right moment came along.

Be prepared for road blocks.

³ When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him … ⁷ Then Herod called the Magi secretly and found out from them the exact time the star had appeared.⁸ He sent them to Bethlehem and said, “Go and search carefully for the child. As soon as you find him, report to me, so that I too may go and worship him.”

The Magi were given a voice to people of influence and were esteemed & respected by their position in society. Even Herod, the king of that time, wanted to hear what these magi had to say. However, Herod’s motives were to harm this baby who was a threat to his own kingdom; Herod did not want God to succeed.

Open your heart and worship.

⁹ After they had heard the king, they went on their way, and the star they had seen when it rose went ahead of them until it stopped over the place where the child was. ¹⁰ When they saw the star, they were overjoyed. ¹¹ On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down and worshiped him. 

The magi recognized immediately who this baby was: Jesus, the long awaited Messiah! They opened their hearts to Him and were compelled to worship the Son of God. They were filled with joy as they gave the praise to the only worthy One.

Give God everything you’ve got.

Then they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. 

The magi sacrificed their time and energy to make this long journey by following the star to meet their Savior. With everything that they had, they offered up their gifts fit only for a King. They refused to hold anything back and would have no regrets about their encounter with Jesus.

Leave the old; walk in the new.

¹² And having been warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, they returned to their country by another route.

The Magi had been with Jesus and their lives would never be the same. Even in the form of a baby, Jesus had transformed them and the magi began a new life. God had spoken to them and warned them to turn from “evil” and directed them how to walk a new route.

Ever have a dream?

A dream God placed on your heart to do: ever have one of those?

Maybe you’re not so sure because you haven’t accomplished “it” yet.

Want to know how you know? The answer was simply put to me in this way: if someone can talk you out of it, then it is NOT a dream God put on your heart. But, if, after everyone you know tries to talk you out of it, reason and logic point it to be crazy, lots of time goes by and you STILL can’t shake it, then… maybe, just maybe it IS a dream from God.

Left brain thinking is logical, critical thinking and reasoning.

Right brain thinking is emotional, intuitive and creative.

Dreams are put on our hearts, not the brain. Quit trying to make sense of it all and just look to the One who gave you the dream. See what He has to say; I bet He has a lot to share.  I don’t think any of it will make sense without Him anyways. So, from one dreamer to another: I am going to go talk to the Lord until He unfolds all of the details of the dream He gave me. I have no doubt that I will enjoy getting to know Him more in the process! What are you going to do?

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
    neither are your ways my ways,”
declares the Lord.
 “As the heavens are higher than the earth,
    so are my ways higher than your ways
    and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

Isaiah 55:8-9

An Unexpected Gift Unwrapped

There is a remarkable holiday story going around that was caught on video. Passengers of a red-eye WestJet flight could entertain themselves at the airport by scanning their ticket on a machine and a live imagine of Santa would appear on a screen. He would talk to each person asking them about what they wanted for Christmas. Each traveler, young and old, played along and shared items ranging from socks and underwear to a big screen TV.  What an enjoyable way to pass the time while waiting to board their flight.

The cameras then reveal the behind the scenes activities while the airplane was in flight. A group of WestJet employees in the flight’s destination city had been taking notes as Santa talked with the passengers. Santa’s “helpers” quickly ran out to stores, purchased all of the gifts, and then wrapped and labeled them. Unbeknownst to the passengers of what had happened, after landing they stood by the baggage claim, anxious to gather their belongings and get home. The buzzer sounded to alarm them the conveyor

belt would begin moving… only instead of suitcases being poured out of the doorway it was wrapped gifts. Beautiful packages of all sizes spilled out; with sparkly bows and shiny paper the gifts twirled along the path of the baggage claim. The place erupted. As the passengers began to receive their gifts they were overwhelmed with emotion. Children were jumping up and down squealing with delight. Jaws dropped and adults were shaking their heads in awe of the outpouring of generosity. Women were covering their faces in disbelief of being given a gift they neither earned nor deserved. “Merry Christmas” was all they were told!

In this heart-felt video I was touched but brought back to the real meaning of Christmas. The truest outpouring of the season is a gift. However, it is not from Santa or an airline but from a God who knows exactly what we want, exactly what we long for deep within the most secret places of our souls. This a gift we have neither earned nor deserve but it truly changes us forever. It can make beauty out of ashes. It can feed the most starved heart with love and meaning.  It can make us whole. The gift is Jesus! He came in the humble form of a baby but had authority over all the Earth. He lived without flaw and yet suffered an undeserving demise. Then, He did the impossible through His resurrection and defeated death!

Christmas is the mark of the unexpected gift that was unwrapped for all the world: Jesus.

Prayer: Lord, may we jump up and down and squeal with delight as our hearts receive Your outpouring of love. May our jaws drop as we stand in awe and gratitude of Your generous gift: Jesus, our Savior! Lord, help us also to share this gift with ALL those around us, just as You freely gave to us. For Your glory alone, Amen.

*Story and imagine source: http://www.foxnews.com/travel/2013/12/10/westjet-airline-surprises-passengers-by-fulfilling-their-holiday-wishes-during/

The Birthday Pin for My Adopted Daughter

Cutting yellow paper in the shape of a square, I hot glue it on the front and a safety pin on the back to a piece of purple sparkle fabric. Slowing squeezing the tube of black puffy paint I spell out the words to honor her. It is her birthday. It isn’t the real day she was born; it’s an arbitrary date given to her through the adoption paperwork process. But it is hers now to celebrate.

I set the homemade pin on the counter and engage in the hustle of the morning: packing up library books, zipping up baggies with snacks, wiping up spilled milk. As I pass her a bowl of cereal I suddenly notice the birthday pin already fastened to her jacket. She had found the pin, saw her name and put it on by herself. The anticipated moment to celebrate through this pin was snuffed out.  

Doing everything for herself was what kept her alive in Ethiopia. She was alone; she had no one to help her. She is no longer alone though. God has placed her in a family, in a place where she no longer has to do everything for herself.  A few months ago God cracked open her heart and began to do amazing and miraculous things to allow her to finally say, “I want to be here; I want to be in this family.” Her heart is changed. But her behaviors are still in process of changing… they have not all caught up to her new found attitude.

Yes, we will find other ways throughout the day to celebrate her birthday. This was not the sole opportunity. But it is a reminder that receiving love from “family” is still a foreign concept for my little girl. Although it has been over 3.5+ years, she is still new to the idea of what it really means to be a part of a family. And so, we continue not just a day by day but a moment by moment interactive lesson in how to be in a family. It is not a job or something “to-do” but simply a lifelong invitation from one heart to another.  

Prayer: Lord, please continue to bring us together as a family through a divine love that takes individuals and makes them a family. We recognize our need for You this day. We trust you to do what we cannot do. We thank you for what You have already done and we trust You will be faithful to complete the work You have started in each one of us

How do we define "THANKFUL"?

When looking up the word thankful in the dictionary it simply stated: a feeling of being grateful. Naturally I swapped out the word thankful in the “search” box and clicked on it to look up the definition of grateful. It said: a feeling of being thankful. There are some words that are hard to define without using the word itself. Thankful, apparently, is one of those words.

I didn’t get very far with the online dictionary. Continuing on in my effort to find meaning to this holiday, I am challenged to define the word myself. If I had to use my own words to identify the meaning of thankful I would say it is an acknowledgement or an understanding that we have something we neither earned nor deserve and yet are able to reap the benefit of it.  As an illustration, I can express that as a mom, my heart is overflowing with precious thoughts of my children that I am thankful for. What did I do to deserve these 5 gifts in my life? Nothing. I could not create these children on my own; I could not earn the blessing of being a mom. Plain and simple: God is the creator of all things and is the sole factor that has allowed me to be in this position. I am thankful.

As we celebrate this Thanksgiving, may we go beyond making a casual list of things we are happy to own or be a part of.  May we truly acknowledge the Maker of all things, Giver of Life and Lover of our souls.  He has bestowed upon us all good things but most of all salvation. He does not give us what we deserve, what we have earned, or what we can accomplish on our own. He loves us unconditionally and sacrificed His son Jesus to give us unending life in Him.

To be thankful is to praise our Lord and King with our hearts, minds and lives.

Prayer: Our hearts are overwhelmed with praise for ALL You have done, oh Lord! May we be grateful not just on this holiday but every day for all that You give us, even when we don’t deserve the blessings. We are so thankful!

Why Cry About Sports?

I never played a sport.

I never cried about a sporting event.

I am not that kind of person. Normally, I find myself judging those who do cry about sports. Pursing my lips, shaking my head side to side and exhaling a “tssk” under my breath with the tiniest drop of spit flying out of my mouth in a full disgusted scoff, “Oh get a grip on reality! It’s just sports.” I couldn’t understand how a sport could hold enough value to someone that losing would bring them to tears?

But I cried.

I cried about a football game this weekend.

Five+ years ago my husband and I decided together that he would leave his paid football coaching position at his school to coach at Aurora Christian High School, a completely volunteer staff. The first year was a difficult transition. After that, little by little I began to see that this was not a position just about football… but that it was a ministry. ACS football is about teaching young men to serve God, serve others, have character and be men of integrity, all through the means of football. It was inspiring. By the end of the second season my heart was changed. I “bought in” 100% to the ministry and it has been a huge part of our family culture at home since then.  

So, why the tears? If the program isn’t just about football then why should it matter if we win or lose? It matters because it is evidence of the depth of meaning and value this program has had. You don’t feel a loss for something that cost you nothing; it holds no worth. When you have invested all you had to give, poured out everything within you, your hope is to achieve the final goal, complete the race and give God glory for the lessons learned through the fight.  With courage and fervor, you want to see it through to the very end. This season, our course got cut short just shy of the State Final game. And for the first time in my life, tears seem to be an appropriate response.

Prayer: Lord, we know You have a greater picture of things that we don’t always see. We trust You to know what is best and to bring meaning in all circumstances.  May You be glorified as we seek to praise You, even when we lose.  We know that You are the same yesterday, today and forever! That alone brings hope for a new day, a new season.

Things no one ever told me...

No one ever told me…

• ©      Gray hairs grow in standing straight up!
• ©      I would love sledding just as much as an adult as I did when I was a kid! Whee!
• ©      I would be swept off my feet by the preschoolers I taught for 12+ years at church. (I thought I was just supposed to be filling a spot on the schedule; boy was that wrong.)
• ©      I would walk out of the hospital with my first baby STILL looking pregnant.
• ©      I would not be able to jump rope without a diaper on after giving birth to a total of 6 children.
• ©      I would learn first-hand that attachment disorders are very common with adopted children.
• ©      I would not mind unintentionally accessorizing with dog hair on all of my clothes because it’s worth having my beloved pup around.
• ©      I would “buy in” to a football program so much so that I even watch “film” sometimes just to educate myself about the game (and spend more time with my hubby!).
• ©      I would cherish my children more and more with every new day I am their mama. They are a gift beyond measure.
• ©      I would know a deeper love than I can ever explain with my husband, not just because of good times but even more so through all of the tough bumps in the road of life together as a union of “one”.
• ©      I would live out an adventure every single day just by surrendering my life to God and all of His crazy ways of changing the world around me. And oh, I am so glad I did!

But why would they? They would have ruined the surprise… and so many more to come!

Prayer: Lord, thank you so much for the joy of every unique possibility that comes with the dawning of a new day. I am so grateful for the amazing people I get to share life with. I take great comfort and peace from the fact that no matter how difficult life gets at times, YOU are always with me. I can’t wait to see all that you still have in store for our journey together; may it bring glory to Your name!

Anyone want to go sledding?

Little tiny white flakes fall from the sky, each unique in their makeup. The first snowfall each winter season seems to bring out the most vibrant emotion within us: ranging from love to disdain (depending on whether or not you were born in Arkansas--shout out to my peeps at The Well). Today there is sufficient amount of the little frozen morsels to actually leave a distinction of what is snow and what is not. We find ourselves getting lost in the panoramic view from our window upstairs. My son squeals with delight as he declares from a true longing in his soul,

“Mommy, there is just enough snow to go on the neighbors roof and sled down it!”

Oh, there are possibilities where we least expect them. Yes, indeed. May you go out on to the rooftop of your dreams TODAY and find a way to soar through an adventure that could not, should not, would not be there except for the astonishing contours of God’s hand at work!

Happy sledding!

“With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26—claiming it again and again!

The Truth About Adoption

November is National Adoption Month. As a result, for the last 2 Saturdays on my way to work I have been able to listen to story after story on the radio celebrating and promoting adoption. They were the kind of stories that could pull on the heart strings of anyone with a pulse. These warm narratives created images of precious children and declared the power of change that adoption has made over their lives. The words over the broadcast seem to paint a picture of a soft, squishy little cloth storybook we would sit down by the fire with and read to our children before bedtime.  

With your permission, I want to be honest.

Adoption is not a storybook. It is not a cute, cuddly little story with the last page filled with a single happy ending. Not every part of adoption stories can be shared over a cup of hot cocoa and mini marshmallows. There was neglect, malnourishment and trauma for these children that we will never fully know about. Receiving orphans in to your home can be messy, complicated, and down right ugly. Adoption is about reality.

Adoption is not a storybook. It is an ongoing journey, with all kinds of things ranging from throwing fits to dull routines, counseling sessions to missing out on things others get to do but more than anything, lots of unanswered questions. There is not that sweet country song playing in the background to the family slide shows; some memories being made through the struggles of life with adopted children are better off not being captured on film. Adoption is a work in progress.

Adoption is not a storybook. It is a reminder of my own brokenness and sinful nature that once drew me to the Savior. My heart and life was messy, complicated, and down right ugly. I surrendered it all at the foot of the cross. He loved me despite my own failings, took me in and offered me a new life. I didn’t do anything to deserve His love but God loved me anyway. I am His and He is mine. I am forever a member of His family.  Adoption is available to everyone.

Adoption is not a storybook. It is an open door at the end of our own human strength and an invitation to the Almighty to step in and do what I am incapable of doing as a person, as a parent. God takes what is broken and makes it whole. God takes what is hurting and heals it. God takes what is tired and weary and restores it, giving it new life. God takes what are lost and lonely pieces and makes them a family: a forever family!  Adoption is a gift.

Prayer: Lord, I thank you that you adopted me in to Your family. I receive Your love and know that it is all I need. I pray that that love would also carry over in to the lives of the children in my life, adopted and biological. May You receive glory for all that You are doing in our lives together as a family, each and every day.  

“For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love He predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which He has freely given us in the One he loves.” Ephesians 1:4-6

Embrace the day

I walk up the stairs to awaken my two youngest children for school. My son is already up, coming out of the bedroom. He gazes at me with dark brown eyes welled up with joy and peace. The broad smile on his face is a doorway of freedom to love, to laugh and to relish life. He stretches out his arms as wide as they can reach, expectant and ready to grab hold of any adventure. With a running start, he jumps up into my arms and squeezes my neck. In his gentle squeak he says, “Good morning Mommy!”

May we all start our day in the same innocence of my six year old little boy. Just as he does, may we whole heartedly believe ANYTHING is possible. With fully out-stretched arms may we embrace all that God has in store for us… TODAY!

“With man this is impossible, 

but with God all things are possible.” Matthew 19:26

(Source of photo: http://sonomachristianhome.com/2012/08/just-be-loved-daily-christian-encouragement/woman-outstretched-arms-sunset/)

Helping Our Kids Make Big Decisions

Her head tilts to the left as she combs the loose curls out of her face. She writes the rough draft in pencil and is scribbling away with a seriousness beyond her years. She has been dreaming about this for 5 years and the day has finally come to see what God will do. She is filling out an application to a school she has fallen in love with and wants to attend for high school. The only thing that holds her back: the cost of tuition.

So, we pray.  

My husband has been a football coach for Aurora Christian School for 5 seasons now. As a part of this completely volunteer coaching staff, ACS has been a ministry outlet for Jeremiah and has turned in to quite an amazing journey for us as a family. In the process of investing time, energy, and our weekends to this school, one of our children has been growing a passion we did not expect.

So, we pray for her.  

This isn’t the first time we have prayed a BIG prayer. We have witnessed so many amazing things God has done in the course of our 15+ years together. So, why does this feel different? This time the stakes feel higher. It is not my hopes and dreams on the line here; they are my daughter’s.  They are sacred desires she has held on to for so long. There is a beating within my heart as a mom that wants to promise her the world, sky’s the limit, dream up anything! But as a single income family with 5 kids, our checkbook cannot come close to covering the cost of every wish and aspiration for our children.  

So, we teach her to pray.

I cling to the familiar verse in Isaiah 29 about God knowing His plans for us, for a hope and a future (even used a few weeks ago in a previous blog entry). I wish I could twist it, bend it and wrap it up with a pretty bow on top to mean that my daughter will get what she wants. But is that how prayer works? Continuing on in the passage God says, “You will come to me and pray to me, and I will listen to you. ¹³ You will search for me, and when you search for me with all your heart, you will find me.” I need to alter my previous statement. I do want my children to dream up big dreams and know no limits in that. But more than anything, the deepest yearning within my soul is that they would seek God and find Him as their own Savior in all they do. Everything else is secondary.

Prayer: God, I thank you for every opportunity to pray BIG prayers. We recognize this is an invitation for us to know You more… and to see amazing things happen for Your glory. ! I don’t have all of the answers or the resources to clearly direct her path but You do; I pray that as my daughter seeks Your direction and provision for this decision that beyond all else, she would find more and more of YOU! I pray this with all of my heart. Amen. 

(imagine source: google images: praying with children's hands)

The Art of Football

I pick up my lap top only to see a document left opened, something my husband had been working on. It is filled with X’s and O’s, squiggly lines and arrows giving directions that I cannot comprehend. It doesn't make sense to me but it means something to the football players on his team that will be using it for the first round of playoffs this Saturday.

I take the time to look at the drawing and I am curious how in the world he ever put this “play” together. Regardless of the outcome or success of this scheme, I am inspired. I have no understanding of what any of it means except that I unexpectedly recognize it as a canvas. My husband is an artist filling in the blank pages of a play book that is used each week for his team. It is not for his success that he spends time drawing these things up but out of a passion spilling from his heart to serve God in everything that he does. That fervor within my husband was given to him by the Author and Creator of all things. Football included.

I am not much of an athlete. I have never been a part of an organized sports team. But I know God’s glory being revealed when I see it!

 Prayer: May God continue to receive all of the glory and honor as my husband and the other coaches give their very best to serve Christ and to teaching these young men how to do the same! 

(Image not his actual play but taken from: http://www.donerightmarketingmedia.com/marketing-your-business-online/)

Crumbs everywhere!

I wave goodbye and close the door behind the children as they skip and giggle down the driveway, off to school. I peer at the shelf in the mud room, tilting my head slightly as an instinctive result of what I see. With curiosity I stroll past the side table and enter in to the kitchen, spying the mini-island, glancing past the breakfast bar and on to the remaining counter surfaces throughout the kitchen. At full glance, I realize that literally every single counter or table space in my entire kitchen has crumbs on it, remains from something, someone. I don’t know the exact contents of each morsel or dropping left behind but it is clear someone has made their mark on our home.

I demand answers: how in the world does this happen?

I am irritated. I frantically grab a wash rag to restore my kitchen back to its most perfected form. But as I rub the wash cloth over each surface and collect the crumbs in my hand, a familiar verse is brought to mind, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. (Isaiah 55:8)

I question, “Lord, am I to believe that what first appears to be a “mess” in my perspective may in fact not be a mess?” Slamming a single fist down on the counter, I repeat my initial declaration: all of the crumbs left behind IS a “mess”!

Uninvited doubt creeps in and I pause in my frivolous efforts. Wait. Is there another possibility? Could the crumbs also be an outward expression of life and vitality in our home? Each child is capable of making their own lunch. Hard at work they spread and cut, fold and pack.  So busy are their little hands and bodies they don’t even notice the trail left in tow. All they know is the joy of accomplishing something. Without realizing it, they are each one tiny step closer to independence and growth in their life as a child.  

I relinquish my initial assessment and go back to work; I complete the task of cleaning up the crumbs but this time with a change of heart.

Prayer: Lord, thank you for the gift of 5 children. Thank you that they are capable of so many wonderful things. They are growing up so fast and I know these days are numbered. Let me treasure them as we work towards seeing life as You see it and may I always be grateful for the “crumbs” in our lives. 

"Have you written about me yet?"

“Have you written anything about me yet?”

With sincerity and curiosity, my older 2 daughters asked me about my latest writing projects and postings. They have heard stories I have written about the 3 younger siblings (separately), but not them yet. They want to know what I think of them, what I might share with others about what they are up to.

The questions are not posed out of jealousy or even self-centeredness but from a secret place within, tucked away and held on to deep within each one of my little girls’ hearts. It is camaraderie as human beings that we share a longing within us to these ever present questions:

“What do you think of me?

Do you really love me?”

I understand why they want to know. I appreciate their courage to even ask. And as their mom, I long to answer them. Am I to brag about their accomplishments and undertakings to reveal how much I love them and how proud I am of them? I could post their hard earned grades on Facebook or carry around copies of their artwork or most recent school projects. I could boast about the team records from the sports they play. Is that why I love them: because of what they do?

 A resounding “NO.”

God is the greatest example of the purest love. Even before He formed us, He loved us.  His love is not earned or something we have to work for; He gives it freely as our Heavenly Father and Creator. It is not our accomplishments or what we “do” that captivates His attention. He knows every facet of our being and loves us. Plain and simple.

My desire as a mom is to be an expression of that same love to all of my children. I have loved them since the very first moment I held them. I love them because of who they are, not because of what they do.  My oldest daughter has such a fun and creative spirit she brings to every situation; it is her essence, who she is. My second daughter has the most tender and loving soul; her whole being exudes snuggles and warmth. They are each uniquely made and reflect different aspects of our Savior. 

[I love you Paris and Noelle. I am honored to be your mom!]

Prayer: Lord, please pour Your love over Paris and Noelle today. Help me to always effectively share my love for them. But more than anything else, may they always be secure in Your love. May You be the answers to all of their questions. May You be what brings peace over every doubt and difficulty in their lives. I pray they always see what You see when they look in the mirror: something beautifully and wonderfully made! Amen.  

A Letter to the birth-mom of our adopted children

To the birth-mother of my adopted children,

I don’t pretend to know how difficult it must have been for you to let go of your two and only children. I trust that you did everything you possibly could to care for them and knew it was not possible to even meet their most basic needs. You were alone. You had no one to help you. The decision was chosen for you through the unfortunate circumstances of your life.

When we received your children we made you a promise to do everything we could to give them a hope and a better future that they could not have in Ethiopia. But would it be OK if I confess something to you? We thought we knew how to do that. We thought if we did all of the right things and gave them all of the necessary “stuff”, it would all just work out. But we wrong. We fed them. We clothed them. We gave them a bed to sleep in at night. We did everything we knew that parents should do and give their children. But it was not enough.

Oh Elias, after only a short time of coming here, began to fit in so well. He would roll around and play and learned to love. The love we share together with him has brought unspeakable joy. But Birdy did not open her heart to us. The hurting and struggle inside her created an unrest, encapsulating her whole being. She could not love. She would not love.

And so we just went through the motions of taking care of her, with continued emptiness and pain.  

 After over 3 years, we had only known turmoil and further distance within the relationship with Birdy. Devoid of strength and incapable of anything more, we were out of ideas.  As the adopted parents we had failed. In complete desperation, we crawled on our hands and knees to the foot of the cross of our Lord Jesus. We fully surrendered Birdy to God to do what we could not do.

With unfailing love, God scooped her up and drew her in to Himself. It was there, in the arms of her Savior she has found rest for her weary soul. He has whispered a wind of peace and calmed the storm within her heart. Every doubt and question had been answered. Her rage has been stilled. He has touched her and she will never be the same.

We love your daughter and are so blessed to have her call us mom and dad. We will continue to do all that we can to help meet her basic needs. But it is God and God alone that has offered her a HOPE and a better future! He is her creator and I know He will be faithful to complete the work He has started in her.

To God be all the glory and praise for these precious children.

With love and deepest gratitude,

Amy Chaney

Being a Follower

“Dad, where are you going?  Can I go?” is the all too familiar question around my house. My nine year old son, J.P., is my husband’s shadow. Wherever Jeremiah goes, J.P. is always close behind asking questions, seeking guidance and wanting to emulate everything my husband does and says. From setting up and taking down stuff at church to spitting sunflower seeds to being the ball boy for Jeremiah’s football team,  J.P. will do just about anything to have that precious and needed time with his father. There is an innate hunger for J.P. to follow Jeremiah’s footsteps.

 There in my own heart I see a parallel appetite to follow my Heavenly Father. I desperately want to pursue Him, ask lots and lots of questions, and follow His lead. But in truth, I wonder if I am as willing as my son is to do whatever it takes to have that kind of relationship with my Father? Sometimes I don’t like the tasks He is doing and think surely He can’t mean me to do them? Sometimes, in a childlike way, I ask a question so many times but forget to wait and listen for the answer.  In my self-centeredness I don’t always find the time to follow the example of how He says I am to live my life.

I am lazy, at times. I am imperfect, way too often. I am flawed, always.

Am I a hopeless cause? No.

The Bible says that the Lord “created my inmost being, He knit me together in my mother’s womb” (Psalm 139:13-14).  My heavenly Father knows me, knows everything about me and still loves me! With my deficiencies and limitations God still desires to draw me in and live & reign in my heart every minute of every day. I cannot wait until I am perfect to chase after the footsteps of my Heavenly Father; I can try again and again, fresh and new each day.

So, TODAY  I will choose to say, “Father, where are You going? Can I go?”

Prayer: Lord, forgive me of my short comings and allow me to follow You in all my ways, every day. I love You Lord and seek to know you more and more along the way. May my life bring glory to Your name alone. Amen. 

How Much More to Give?

“I have had it!” I scream as if breaking the sound barriers of my soul. I throw myself down on the floor. In my rage, I kick my feet, stomping and jerking my legs from side to side. With my arms flailing in circles, I clench my fists and raise them to the invisible opponent I am wrestling with. Snarling and spitting, I yelp out one final moan towards the heavens and then lay silent, flat on my back. I am angry. I am exhausted.

In my weakness, I whisper, “Why must I give up so much of my life?”

Then louder. “ No one seems to cares about what I want.

Even louder, “Where am I in all of this?”

 As loud as my heart will cry out, “How much more can one person give?”

Rolling over on to my stomach, I curl my feet under my bent knees. Gently I raise my tear stained eyes not even bothering to wipe them away and suddenly begin to see something that was not there before.  It is clear, just past the shadow in front of me:  a wooden cross. There is no one on it but there are obvious remains telling that someone was there. Dried up blood trails where beaten hands once were. A thorn of crowns at the nail centered at the top of the middle beam. A tiny shred of linen fabric left at the place where the feet could not bear the weight of its occupant.

From behind me a voice begins calling me by name, without judgment or disdain of the ugliness and self-centeredness I am adorned in.  He comes closer, wrapping His arms around me and enfolding every inflamed and selfish part of my being. There is love. There is peace. Without a single word spoken His touch tells me, “Keep sacrificing until there is nothing left… just as I did for YOU!”

“Then Jesus said to his followers, “If any of you want to be my follower, you must stop thinking about yourself and what you want. You must be willing to carry the cross that is given to you for following me.  Any of you who try to save the life you have will lose it. But you who give up your life for me will find true life.” (Matthew 16:24-25--ERV)

Prayer: Lord, I choose to follow You. Please change me and help me not be so self centered. Give me the strength to follow You in your example of a life of sacrifice. This is a hard prayer but I know it will bring glory to Your name. I trust in You alone to guide me; I surrender my whole life to You!

Touch

There are many so many different kinds of touches:

·        A common high five between sports fans after a successful play.

·        A gentle pat on the back of a beloved dog as she sits next to you while typing at the computer.

·        The familiarity of shoulders up against shoulders as a family watches a movie on the couch.

·        The closeness between a husband and a wife literally unparalleled to anything else.

·        The unexplainable stirring in our souls from God exchanging fear for peace during prayer.

They are all the gentle, sweet touches that add delight and joy to our days. But what about the tenderness between a mother and her child? Did I miss that? Forget that one? Skip it somehow? No. A mother never forgets her child. But in living with a daughter with an attachment disorder, touch is not wanted, not invited, even rejected. Her heart was broken so many times before she ever came in to our lives that “touch” no longer holds the same meaning for her. No matter the intention behind it, my touch to her as her “new” mother makes her uncomfortable, ashamed. It is unwarranted.

But…

Today, I heard a whisper of a request spoken ever so faintly from her room. If I wasn’t so near to her room in the hallway I may have missed it. Was it a test to see if I too would abandon her need as she was so used to with her previous family? If I really loved her, I would be able to hear her quiet request, “Mom, can you put lotion on my back?” No, I would not neglect her. No, I would not leave her to fend for herself as she so often had to do in Ethiopia. I knelt down beside her and honored her plea. I gently rubbed in some lotion on her back. Her head was down but her lips curved upward. A hidden smile.

As the children rode away on their bikes in the driveway racing off to school, I hollered to them as I do every day as they leave, “Have a good day. I love you!”

She shouts back with an unexpected and almost unimaginable response, “I love you too, Mom.”

She has touched my heart.

Light hearted & pun-ny

My son asks me if I will be riding bikes with them to school today. I growl to myself feeling like I have no choice. I scratch my head and ask myself, “What is wrong with me?” Is it that I don’t want to take the time and care to see my children off to school today? No. I am very blessed to be able to stay at home and am available to be there for daily morsels of time with my children. It is a gift.

But the part that is somewhat askew deep within my psyche is that I am really looking forward to cleaning my bathrooms and I do not want to be delayed. After a 3 day weekend with all 5 kids and my husband home, the bathrooms are in desperate need of a cleaning. I can’t wait to spray down all 3 bathrooms, go to battle against the grime and filth layered on every surface in the rooms. I am anxious to grab my weapons to wrestle with the finger prints and mud knowing I will come out victoriously smelling like Clorox bleach!

Whether staying at home or working, every mom must face the task of housework. We each have the jobs we love and we each have the jobs we just suffer through. Some of my dearest friends find cooking to be a pleasure. They love to try new recipes and even enjoy the hunt for the precise ingredients. Me, on the other hand, cook as fast as I can to be done with it… but I don’t mind laundry & think folding clothes can be relaxing at times. Obviously cleaning is one of my favorite tasks, only below organizing. Yes, I find deep joy and satisfaction when putting order to chaos within my cabinets and closets!

The way we develop our taste or preferences to things makes me think about every time I go to the ice cream shop.  I am astounded at some of the flavors I would never consider eating, ever: black cherry, rainbow sherbet, coffee. But In the end, I think housework is a lot like ice cream. We each know exactly what we love and what we don’t love. I guess it’s fair to say, “to each his “cone”"!

Prayer: May someone “get it” and even find some humor in my play on words at the end of this blog entry. I pray I am not the only one who loves a play on words… and giggled the rest of the day about it. Thank you Lord that we don’t always have to be serious when we pray and that You love sharing in every part of our lives, even housework.

Update: Letter Writing Project

By the end of tomorrow I will have completed 4 full months of this letter writing project. It has become a discipline: to be diligent to write one letter to a different person every single day (which did not sound like much of a time commitment before I started). I hesitate in even using the word “discipline” because it makes it sound like drudgery. This letter writing project is anything but that.

 As I sit down to write each day and truly spend time considering the exact thoughts I would like to share with the person on the receiving end, I find that it is not a quick task. My contemplation whisks me away to so many thoughts and almost every time, tears (of joy), about who this person is, all of the wonderful things God has made in them and why I am so blessed to have them in my life. I don’t want to lightly scribble words and send off a mass mailer each day; I want each card to be as unique as the recipient. The word HEARTEN is a verb, an action word meaning to GIVE courage or good cheer; to encourage. I want to give of myself and send a small fragment of my heart with each one of these letters to build up and encourage this beloved person.

So, do they know my revealed heart as they open the letters? I don’t always know. Some have acknowledged in passing to me, “Oh, I got your letter.” Some say a quick thanks or even mention who they may send a letter to using the stamp I included; that is exciting to hear. But most do not respond at all. That’s OK. God knows the plans He has for this project and I rest in that, not the feedback I receive or don’t receive.

But sometimes… every now and then… my heart bursts at the response such as the one that was given to me today: “Thanks again for your encouragement card. My heart IS heartened!”  I am overwhelmed with joy!

Prayer: Lord, help me find the time each day to invest in these letters. Then, as I mail them off may they delight the souls of those who receive them. May they be encouraged and their joy renewed, even if for only a moment. Life is not easy but may we continue to find ways to share with each other the love You have given to us.

Telling the truth

Truthfully, I don't always want to tell the truth. I don't always want to have to tell what is really going on in my life, in my family. I want to be able to share lines hot off the presses from Facebook that make people believe I have it all together, my life, children and house are all in order and that I am filled with joy all the time.

But that isn't the truth. 

We were asked to get together with “a friend of a friend” that is starting the adoption process from Ethiopia. I wanted to tell them the short version, including only the parts when everything worked out, when we witnessed miracles and we (& people all around us) were being encouraged because of all that God was doing to bring our 2 children home. But that isn't where the story ends. It isn't the whole truth. 

Here is what I emailed to her after we had spent the evening together, discussing the real version of adoption in our family:

Thank you so much for taking the time to hear our story the other night. I hope that we didn't scare you. I wish I could just share the beginning part of the story before we brought them home when all of the amazing "miracles" were happening. We literally prayed every single night for a year and half as a family. During that time God grew in our hearts a united ownership of the "call" to adopt. Our prayer was based on a quote we have pinned to our refrigerator by A.W. Tozer, "God is looking for people through whom He can do the impossible. What a pity we plan to do the things we can only do ourselves."

Adoption was (and remains to be) beyond our own abilities and God truly paved a way when there was no way. It was amazing and we could not keep tract of all of the things that happened to confirm God's leading in the adoption process.

Once we brought them home, our version of the prayer took on a whole new face. We weren't just praying that prayer to happen, we were living it out. Dealing with attachment issues on a daily basis with our daughter has obviously not been easy by any stretch. But this is the point in our faith journey when we recognize a daily necessity to confess our absolute need for God and to rely on His strength to tarry on. It is not optional. Following Christ is not always pretty and magical, filled with beautifully answered prayers. Most of the days look messy, muddy and are exhausting. But as we arise each morning to start a new day we can say without a shadow of a doubt God alone can do the impossible in any situation and I pray today is the day He does it!

The truth may not always be easy to share or what I really want people to know. But the truth, the real nitty-gritty parts of my life & my being that reveals the core of who I am in any circumstance, is the part of me that crosses over from making my life about me to making my life about God and what He can do. When I share the TRUTH I am making a decision to point others not to me but to the One at work in me, the One I have surrendered my whole life to: God my Savior.

My Prayer: May my heart be grateful for the opportunities in our lives to see You, Lord, do the impossible. I confess my need for You and lean in to You when I am weak (which is all the time). I ask that Your power would be made perfect in my weakness, just as You promised. And give me the courage to continue to be honest and “real” with those around me in hopes that it will bring glory to You.