Looking for a Job

When people hear that I am looking for a job to help cover the tuition cost, they always ask, "So, what do you want to do?" 

My answer is not what they expect to hear. 
My answer does not typically offer a paycheck. 
It's simply to be a part of this...


“The earth causes plants to grow,

and a garden makes the seeds planted there rise up.

In the same way, the Lord God will make 

goodness and praise grow

throughout the nations.”

Isaiah 61:11

So, now we pray God opens up an opportunity!

Answered Prayers for Our Daughter

Enjoying the sunshine on the back porch, we reclined in our seats after dinner. She sat up higher and scooted to the edge of her seat ready to share her big announcement. She would tell us where she had decided to go to high school. We figured we already knew the answer. We had her registered at the public school. She had been playing basketball all summer with the school team. She was digging in roots. Or so we thought.

“I feel like God wants me to go to Aurora Christian.” Paris declared with confidence.

I wrote about her dream last November (click here: Helping Our Kids Make Big Decisions). Yes, this was a dream of hers for 5 years but we thought she got the clear picture. We thought she understood the reality of the situation: we didn't have the money to do this. We thought she had agreed the public school had more to offer: AP classes, a solid basketball program, an endless list of clubs and programs to join… and her friends were would be there too.

And so God leads her back to her dream. She did not waiver.

Without the provisions to see this through, we pray.

The next day Jeremiah and I were on a walk together to pray and brainstorm ideas. His cell phone rings; we don’t normally answer calls on our walks together but this one seemed different. It was an administrator from Aurora Christian. He said we had come to mind and he wanted to know if there was anything they could do to help with our decision for Paris to go to their school.

And so the door opened: God began to provide a “way” when we could not see a way.

Prayer: Thank you Lord that you heard the sincere prayers of our daughter and are rendering a way to allow her dreams to become a reality. We know it won’t be perfect. We know You are not done providing all that we need to continue at this school (financially--we continue to trust and pray for this). We know it will be a lot of work. But we also know that You always go with her. May these formative years of her life bring her closer to You and bring glory to Your name! With deep gratitude we pray.

When was the last time you DANCED?

“When was the last time the flower danced?” he asks as he notices the solar powered flower has stopped moving. The soiled access panel has so much dust and grime accumulate on it that the flower can no longer find the strength to do what it was made to do. Although it still holds some intrinsic beauty without the movement, it has lost its initial luster and exuberance. The petals would sway up and down in constant motion cheering on the world to rise up and be their best. The flower itself would move from side to side and sing a silent song of joy and hope to any captive onlooker. This simply designed toy has the most complex of onlookers mesmerized by the enthusiasm towards LIFE it demonstrates. It is gone and inspires people no longer.  

I turn from the window near the kitchen sink, away from my son and recognize the ease at which we can all follow the devastating path of this plastic bloom, without even noticing. Our love for life can slowly get corroded over by the demands of the every day. Justifying each action and task by the obligations thrust upon us. Dreams, new ideas and goals are dormant, buried under requirements and chores. Duties supersede spontaneity. Keeping up with everyone else builds a blockade on the road towards our deepest passions. Cultural standards too heavy to carry, gradually make every movement a burden.  And we are left with nothing but the labors of the day, without hope, without inspiration.

But there is a dawn of hope. There is a fountain of inspiration. There is a path back to an unending supply of strength and power. It is the exclusive opportunity to be and do what we were created to do. God alone is that source! He generously exterminates the rotting and decaying parts of our hearts, in exchange for life and joy to those who ask. Following Him brings legitimate satisfaction and peace. 

Seeking God’s divine rhythm provokes us to begin dancing again!

Prayer: May you discover all that you need in God and may He give you a life of fulfillment and possibilities you never knew you could have. All for His glory and honor. Amen.

  

Summer Notice

Does anyone else keep singing the fun song that Olaf (the adorable snowman) sang in Frozen about summer?  [click here to refresh your memory on the song] We were all so sure winter would never end and we dreamed of the hot days, basking in the summer sun. We were frozen for so many months that even people born and raised in Chicago began to question what in the world was happening!

So, here it is. Summer has arrived. What will you be doing? I hope that you will take the time to find the simple joys that you once did as a child during these summer months. Lying in the grass deciphering what shapes were being made in the fluffy white clouds. Pretending that your bicycle was a horse that led you on wild, off road adventures. Imagining racing down a moutain-side on a small wooden go-cart. Eating freezy pops until your tongue turned blue or red or orange. Whatever stirs in your heart, reach out to it this summer and find those uncomplicated (often unplanned), simple pleasures. A smell. A taste. A trip down memory lane.

Happy summer!

Please note: In case you haven’t noticed, I will be taking some time off from my blog this summer. I am working for an intense 5 weeks for a summer school program starting Monday, June 23. Any time I have when I am not at work (before and during the program), I want to spend with my kids and husband. I will check back in again with you when the summer is over. Blessings to all of you!

I Am an Expectant Mother

Having been pregnant six times, I am more than fully aware of the true gift these generous businesses and offices offer as they label their best parking spots for the “expectant” mothers. Nonetheless, the term does not end with the physical birth of a child, it is really only the beginning.

I am an expectant mother.

I expect my children to eat their vegetables and do chores around the house. I expect my children to do as they are told and go to bed at a certain time. I expect they will use the sidewalks and be polite to adults. And on and on. Let’s face it though, those are the basics. Digger deeper, I expect my children to work hard and offer their best at whatever they do. I expect my children will someday realize how to serve others and find ways to contribute to society in a positive way. I expect my children may fail from time to time but come out of those experiences stronger and changed for the better.

However, in all of the things I expect out of life for my children, there are expectations that I put most of my trust in. I expect God to walk with them every step of the way. He is the One who created them and knew them before they were ever placed in my arms. I expect that He will help them discover all of the amazing details He put in them as He fastened them together in the womb. I expect He will teach them to hear His voice, follow His lead and feel His love. I expect my children will dream up things they want to do with their lives; as they go after those dreams, I expect they will discover the God who placed those passions and desires in their hearts. I expect God has even greater understanding, greater plans and a greater love for my children than even I could imagine. My expectant mother's heart is so grateful.

I am an expectant mother.  

May Your unfailing love be with us, Lord, 

as we put our hope in You.

Psalm 33:22

Visiting a Childhood Memory: Grandpa's Go-Cart

“Faster Grandpa… Faster!” we squealed with delight loud enough to be heard for blocks. Grandpa pushed the simple wooden go-cart from behind with an orange broomstick while carefully chasing along with us. He gave it one final shove with all that he had and then hopped on the platform in the back, meticulously tucking the broom to the side of the car, carefully held in place with his left hand. The wind gently misplaced our hair in different directions as we cruised down the residential racetrack. The route was a straight shot but dangerous in feat due to the high speeds in which we traveled. The sounds of the wheels crossing over the cracks in the sidewalk clicked faster and faster as the go-cart made its final descent towards the bottom of the mountain. Finally, the imaginary black and white checkered flag waved the finish line at the empty field where the sidewalk came to an end.

When the ride had come to an inevitable halt, we remained on the go cart while my Grandpa stood up, turned us around and pushed us along in the child size vehicle back up the hill with the end of his broom stick. This was his endless acts of service to us as the passengers. He hauled us upward using the full force of his body, as we so effortlessly sat and steered the wooden box back to the starting line. The plastic red steering wheel had a mind of its own and could move us side to side at will but Grandpa’s strong hand behind the broom made sure we safely arrived at the desired destination.

And so it would begin again and again as we, the “race-team”, entered in to the fast paced world on the go-cart, hour after hour with my Grandfather. There were other places we could venture off to but no; the hill on Gareth Lane was the prized route. It was familiar with sights and sounds that would lure us in to a childhood trance of peace and security that could only be felt with Grandpa, and his broom, as the engine that powered the mighty white go-cart.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Recently (many years after the death of my beloved Grandpa) I went back to Gareth Lane to view this favorite childhood place. When I pulled up to the silent, white brick house it did not offer the familiar “welcome” I had known for so many years. I got out of my car and walked to the edge of the driveway to get a closer view of the racetrack again. The path that had supplied so many hours of fun no longer sloped with intensity; the angle was almost undetectable. There was no mountain as I had imagined as a child. Could this be the same place? 

Instinctively, I took off running down the hill anyways. Tears streaming down my face and arms stretched out, I reached towards the sky. I longed to feel the same love and sense of peace as I did when I was with my Grandpa. As I glided over the cracks in the sidewalk I could almost hear an echo from the past beating from inside my chest. He made me feel safe. He made me feel like I was worth his time. More than anything, he made me feel loved! I am forever grateful for the time I had with my Grandpa; he is still dearly missed.

Celebrating One Year of Letters

I have been writing letters since the fourth grade when my close friend, Kristi Brown, moved away to Florida. We wrote about silly things like movies we saw and new flavors of gum we were trying. Nothing big but at the time it was the only way to stay connected; there was no internet, Face book or even texting. So, hand written letters were flown across the miles for years back and forth. . I can’t say that those letters left any kind of lasting impression on my friend but it was the start of a lifetime of letters for me; I would never be the same.

Letters have filled my life in other forms since then.

*Letters to and from my friend during his four years at West Point

*Letters to & from West Africa & France during specific times in my life when I was living far from home

*Letters to missionaries when I could not be the one to “go”

*And on and on…

It only seemed natural then that I felt God leading me to start a one year letter writing project. I LOVE hand-written letters! It was a discipline of sorts to help me develop my ability to write. I started this blog and kept a list of everyone I wrote to… hoping that I would actually be able to fill up all 365 spaces. I would like to say that “I” did it. But it was truly a project impressed upon me during a time of seeking and prayer to find direction. God directed my path and gave me a great sense of His closeness as I would sit down each day to write.

“Lord, who needs a letter today?” I would ask in prayer and a name would come to mind. As I would pre-write the letter in my head, the Lord gave me His eyes to see things in each person that is beautiful, valuable, and unique!  What a joy to be the “hands and feet” of a God who loves each one of us. My constant prayer and goal was that these letters would be a reflection of the God and creator of each person receiving the letters. And if somehow my words failed in that attempt, I knew with great confidence that at least the included scripture verse would leave a lasting impression.

Today, June 1^st, 2014 we leave a stone of remembrance of the completed one year letter project. I have an event on Face book (click to join) to post different things that have occurred throughout the year. I hope people take the time to leave a message about what God has done for them through the letter they received OR the letter they sent out with the stamp I included. I am truly overwhelmed by God’s grace to include me in such an amazing project. I have been blessed beyond measure to be a small part in something that points people closer to their Heavenly Father and King!