Hope For The Adoption Journey

On August 15, a book that has been two years in the making will be published. Compiled by Katherine Piper, Hope for the Adoption Journey is a book written for a very special type of mom: Adoptive and foster moms.

The fact is, our parenting experiences are different and can often be isolating, but this book is written by a community of seasoned mothers who have been in the trenches and have a wealth support and hope to offer struggling families. It has been a huge privilege to be a part of this very important work!

Here is the link to order! PLEASE share with every adoptive or foster mom you know!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1722231491

The Silver Mist

August came gently, with cooler evenings and mornings to balance the hot afternoons.  My longing for Autumn began to grow into an ache as a few leaves turned bright red in the tops of young trees in our yard.  Vibrant and teasing of what is to come.  (And unusually early!)

The busy of the school year looms ahead and I have just had the hardest time getting motivated to order the books and fill out the planners.  Maybe it is because we moved in the middle of last year and I’m feeling a bit rebellious?  This slow summer was such good medicine.

Everybody is starting school next week.  But not us.  We are traveling to visit grandparents and we “may” start when we get home.  I’m just loving these long days with my kids and hours outdoors by the pool so much.  I don’t want them to end!

All the crazy starts Labor Day week.  Maybe I’ll just put it all off until then because I can.

Anyway, this morning I awakened at dawn and noticed a marked difference in the light steaming through our bedroom window.  I parted the curtains and smiled at what I saw:

The silver mist giving the trees a soft focus, hiding the distant hills.  Birds chatting happily in the morning cool as they nibbled and fussed at the feeders.  The sun shining gently, filtered by earth-clouds and not hot.  Not yet.

I opened the windows of my office as soon as I stepped in, relishing the breeze as I lit the peach-scented candle.  A line from a song sang through my spirit, one of my favorites by Andrew Peterson

I saw the sower in the silver mist and he was calling me home.

The song, “The Dark Before the Dawn,” spoke softly to my heart.  The lyrics filled my mind with imagery.  Just read them…then click on this link to listen.

I’ve been waiting for the sun
To come blazing up out of the night like a bullet from a gun
Till every shadow is scattered, every dragon’s on the run
Oh, I believe, I believe that the light is gonna come
And this is the dark, this is the dark before the dawn
I’ve been waiting for some peace
To come raining down out of the heavens on these war-torn fields
All creation is aching for the sons of God to be revealed
Oh, I believe, I believe that the victory is sealed
The serpent struck but it was crushed beneath His heel
Oh, I know the wind can bring the lightning
Oh, I know the lightning brings the rain
Oh, I know the storm can be so frightening
But that same wind is gonna blow that storm away
Blow that storm away
Lord, I’m waiting for a change
I’m waiting for the changeSo I’m waiting for the King
To come galloping out of the clouds while the angel armies sing
He’s gonna gather His people in the shadow of His wings
And I’m gonna raise my voice with the song of the redeemed
‘Cause all this darkness is a small and passing thingThis is the storm, this is the storm
The storm before the calm
This is the pain, the pain before the balm
This is the cold, the cold
It’s the cold before the warm
These are the tears, the tears before the song
This is the dark
Sometimes all I see is this darkness
Well, can’t you feel the darkness
This is the dark before the dawnI’m just waiting for a change
Change
Lord, I’m waiting for the changeI had a dream that I was waking
At the burning edge of dawn
And I could see the fields of glory
I could hear the sower’s songI had a dream that I was waking
At the burning edge of dawn
And all that rain had washed me clean
All the sorrow was goneI had a dream that I was waking
At the burning edge of dawn
And I could finally believe
The king had loved me all alongI had a dream that I was waking
At the burning edge of dawn
I saw the sower in the silver mist
And He was calling me home

And in a day where busy is god, bad news screams from the 24 hour cycle and civilization seems to have lost it’s filter, I am reminded that the light IS going to come.  We WILL see the fields of glory.  And, one day, we will be truly home.  Rest will be the norm.  Work will always be joy.  The ones I love will be always near, always whole, and always safe.
Glory.

Into a New Season

Change, it is a-happening around here.  My oldest, my firstborn, my suddenly taller-than-me man-child who made me a mama is a Senior in high school.

A SENIOR.

He was on my hip with a blankie in hand just five minutes ago.

Add to that the preparations for the homeschool year of my younger four, (I also have a JUNIOR for crying out loud!) cutting several inches of curls off my middle’s long hair (resulting in her suddenly looking like a teenager…which she is…but still…) and finding armpit hairs on my eleven year old son and, well, I may or may not be on the verge of tears at the mere sound of a baby laughing or a toddler holding up it’s arms and saying, “Hold you!”

I could lament, or I could celebrate the season I am in.  To be honest, I’m doing a little of both.

I have no one in elementary school any more.  No one who fits into “kids-size” clothing.  No one who has a bow in their hair or baby teeth.  It’s weird.  It’s wonderful.  It’s hard.  It’s freeing.

Independence is right at their ages, for the most part.  They shouldn’t need me to butter their toast or heat up their leftovers.  They can fold their own laundry and put away the dishes.  (Now if only I could get them to clean their ROOMS!)  They can read and ride their bikes and entertain themselves, allowing me the time to do things I enjoy such as writing.

I homeschool the youngest four, which means we are together much more than we are not.  But, still, sometimes I miss them.

Oh, they are here.  I love engaging in their conversations and receive plenty of smiles and hugs, but life has dramatically changed in the past few years.  They don’t “need” me like they once did, which is both awful and beautiful at once.

I took the three youngest to the zoo today.  At ages 13, 11 and 11 (yes, that is two elevens) I wasn’t sure if they would think they were too “old” for the zoo.  I feared they might think it “lame.”

I was so gloriously wrong.

We explored and oohed and ahhed over animals we had not visited in a long time.  The new Andean Bear exhibit was breathtaking, two big bears wrestling and rolling in the grass like siblings.  My thirteen year old whispered, not knowing I could hear her, “This is awesome.”

And it was.

Memories of their childhood flooded my heart as I saw mamas with babies in carriers, strollers parked outside exhibit doors, and heard a little boy exclaim, “My pip-pops!” when his flip-flop fell off.  We all relished the sweetness of the little ones surrounding us as much as we relished the beauty and diversity of God’s handiwork.

It was a good day.  It was filled with smiles and sunshine and, for just a few hours, I felt like I was standing astraddle of the gap between life as it was and life as it is.  I saw the wonder of a little child in the faces of my not-so-little kids and I am just so thankful for the respite of remembering before the busyness of our school year begins.

Times are changing, old seasons are gone, but if I take a moment and open my eyes to what is before me I can see the hope and future of these children in whom I have invested my life.  Despite the hormones and, dare I say, attitude of the pre-teen and teen years, the remnants of the little ones who once placed their chubby hands in mine are still there.

Now the hands I hold are bigger, stronger, and maybe even calloused.

But they fit mine perfectly just like they always have.

The Tumble and the Turning

How much of our life and energy is spent trying to prevent something “bad” from happening?  God showed me something today that I want to share with you.

In Luke 22:31-32, Jesus has a pointed conversation with Simon Peter.  Just off the heels of the institution of the Lord’s Supper and the argument among the apostles as to who will be regarded as the greatest when the Kingdom comes (Gosh, sounds a lot like conversations at my house!), Jesus focuses his attention on Peter.

I imagine he speaks this with a mixture of sadness for what He knows Peter will face combined with the hope of knowing the end from the beginning…

Peter, you need to know that Satan demanded to have you.  He wants to sift you like wheat (to break you down)…but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned again (because you will) use what you have learned to strengthen your brothers.

In this paraphrase I find so much hope.  Jesus doesn’t “hope” Peter will turn…He knows Peter WILL turn.

As a recovering legalist, I battle the urge to prevent the unpleasant and unwanted both in myself and in the lives of those I love.  Don’t do that…”this” could happen.  Are you thinking this through?  Do you not realize where that could lead?  You could get hurt, you could SIN, you could FAIL.  

Most of the time my attempts are futile because I, and those I love, possess a determined flesh that pushes us away, not towards, godliness.  Bad things happen.  Sometimes to us, sometimes because of us.  We all have that nightmare scenario we try to prevent happening to our loved ones, yet what do we do when that nightmare becomes a reality?

When those we love walk through fire and we see it coming mile away, unable to stop it?

Jesus knows.  This is the blessing and the bane of being the Son of God.  He knew where Peter was headed.  He knew the betrayal lurking in Peter’s heart even before Peter was aware.  He knew the shame that would result, the running away and the grief as all the world sunk into chaos when darkness fell and the veil was torn in two.

“But I have prayed for you…”

There is such power and hope in those words.  Jesus knew what Peter would do, and He also knew who Peter would become as a result.

He saw the tumble and the turning.  Jesus knew failure would, in the long run, created fertile soil for a faith that would change the world!

You and I, we can’t see the end from the beginning like Jesus.  But we can pray.  We can believe.  We can trust that God uses failures and that the story of our lives is going to be one of victory over the darkness.

If we let it.

Peter failed.  He betrayed his Savior.  He saw the knowing, pain-filled eyes of Jesus fixed on him as the rooster crowed, and he also saw the risen Christ!  He was anointed with Holy Fire and spoke of the fulfillment of the centuries-old prophecies of the Messiah. As a result, in his first day of Holy-Spirit filled ministry Peter, the betrayer, led more than three thousand souls to Christ.  His denial became bold, unstoppable declaration and he moved forward in God’s power because he knew he could do nothing in his own.

Failure bred faith.  Weakness was transformed into incredible strength.  And Jesus knew, all along, that this would happen.

Had He stopped Peter from denying him, sheltered him in a room away from the pressures and temptations, Peter might have never fully tapped in to the strength of God.

This gives me hope for when I fail.  It brings peace when I am tempted to worry about my children.  It gives direction to my prayers.

It sets me free.

Be blessed today, mamas.  The Lord is at work even in your failures.  God looks upon your child with eyes of love and purpose even when they rebel.  He knows the end from the beginning and we can trust Him!

May we parent out of a place of peace while loving out of a posture of grace so that the work of God in our lives and families can charge forward, unhindered!

 

Excitement!

As you may know, I am a huge fan of Sally Clarkson.  I wrote all about her in this post. She has written several books that have changed the way I live and her podcast is on constant play when I am in my car.

For the past month I have had the pleasure of being on the launch team for the book, The Lifegiving Parent, written by Clay and Sally Clarkson.  (Which means it is for daddies, too!) It has been such a privilege to share and participate in this good work of spreading the word about a message that will change the fabric of countless families.

Well, today is launch day!

Today the book will be in the hands of those of us who pre-ordered!

And today, I’d like to bless you with a giveaway!  🙂

If you will share the link to this post and leave a comment in the comments section of this page telling me so, you will be entered into a drawing for your very own copy of this wonderful new book.  The winner will be announced next Tuesday, so get to sharing!  I’m so excited to get this into your hands, too!  You will love it.

Have a wonderful week!  I’ll be out back on the porch with my nose in the book!

To order click here:  The Lifegiving Parent

 

The Forgotten Feast

Late one evening, while driving home from a banquet that had been held to celebrate the end of the latest basketball season, I heard a voice pipe up from the nether-regions of my dark and messy Explorer:

“I didn’t get to eat.”

I forced my face to stay forward, eyes on the road, while I said, incredulously, “What?”  (Read that with all the emphasis you can imagine.  Because that’s how I said it.)

“I haven’t had dinner, Mom.  I didn’t get to eat.”

I took a deep breath, willing myself to show grace and use this teachable moment.  “What would Sally Clarkson say?”  I thought to myself…

“You mean you were too busy hanging with your friends to eat, right?  You mean you chose not to eat because you were having fun, right?  Because when we left they were throwing out whole pans of spaghetti and meatballs and chicken alfredo…there was an entire banquet, a FEAST, laid out for you.  There is absolutely no reason for you to be hungry except that you chose not to eat what was provided for you.”

I paused there, knowing that continuing to lecture would be overkill and that this sweet fun-loving (and now hungry) kiddo of mine had gotten the point.  We arrived home, hungry child had a small snack, and everyone went to bed.

Then God started thunking me on the head.

 

You know the above-mentioned teachable moment I wanted to use to make a point to my child?  Well, the Lord decided to turn that one on me.

He’s pretty faithful about doing that.

Proverbs 9:1-6 (MSG)* says…

Lady Wisdom has built and furnished her home;
    it’s supported by seven hewn timbers.
The banquet meal is ready to be served: lamb roasted,
    wine poured out, table set with silver and flowers.
Having dismissed her serving maids,
    Lady Wisdom goes to town, stands in a prominent place,
    and invites everyone within sound of her voice:
“Are you confused about life, don’t know what’s going on?
    Come with me, oh come, have dinner with me!
I’ve prepared a wonderful spread—fresh-baked bread,
    roast lamb, carefully selected wines.
Leave your impoverished confusion and live!
    Walk up the street to a life with meaning.”

How often do I walk around hungry despite the literal banquet God has spread before me?  He tells us He has everything we need in place.  Every gift of the Holy Spirit is available to us, His beloved children.  Like a mother who takes pleasure in feeding her growing children, who delights in watching them savor delicious food made by her own hands, our God has spread out a Kingdom feast and sits at the head of the table, waiting for us to join Him.

But, too often, we don’t.  Despite the tantalizing smells of “fresh-baked bread, roasted lamb, and carefully selected wines” we run right past the table and try to live our lives on empty.  “I’m not hungry!” we declare as we slam the door behind us and skip to the playground (work, school, relationships, life) not wanting to take the necessary time to fuel our spirits before engaging with this broken and dying world.

Then we hit the wall.  We run out of energy and despair over our weakness.  We stubbornly declare, “I didn’t have time,” but the truth is we didn’t want to make the time.

Because you know as well as I do the time is there.

It may mean setting the alarm earlier to spend quiet time with God before the rest of the family awakens.  I could be choosing to listen to a podcast from a trusted Bible teacher or music that fills our minds with truth in the car (or while feeding babies). Maybe it involves putting down that magazine we had planned to thumb through in the doctor’s office to pick up a devotional or (wait for it) the actual Bible in our purse or even on our phone.  Wherever we choose to carve it out, we have the time to consume the feast our God has prepared for us.  It may not happen all in one sitting.  In fact, it may mean we are taking small bites throughout the day.  It’s not really about making time to feast on the Word, it’s about making the feast a priority.

And I’m telling you, sisters, that we will never walk in victory unless we are well-fed.

We cannot walk around starving and spiritually malnourished and expect to be effective in our marriages, our mothering, or any other area of life.  Because the Word is life.  Jesus is life.  He sits at the head of the table, but the seats are too often empty.  This has to stop!  The culture is running at us, chasing down our families at breakneck speed, and we are so tired and distracted that we have no energy to fight!  But fight, we must, or we will end up on our knees with a weak and broken spirit from years of malnutrition as we watch our homes crumble.  It begins with small changes, tweaks in the schedule that we can make every single day.  I’ve heard a good rule…”Work before play.”   Well, how about, pray before work?  Or sit at the feet of Jesus before logging in?

Verse six, above, says,
“Leave your impoverished confusion and live!
    Walk up the street to a life with meaning.”

Yes, that’s it!  A hungry soul is an impoverished and confused soul!  We cannot think clearly when we are hungry.  Any parent knows this.  We have all dealt with a “hangry” child…well, I would venture to guess that many of us are spiritually hangry.  We struggle to find meaning to our lives, feel bitter and angry and tired, but the answer lies in stopping…eat, drink and be filled.  Be still and know that He is God.  He is our provider, our strength, our portion and our cup.

Then,

from that nourished and fulfilled state,

we can emerge from the safety of home to face the world and be effective, energetic laborers in the fields.  We will no longer be searching for meaning, because meaning is found at the banqueting table.  We will know who we are and Whose we are and be better able to live out of that truth, living forward and purposefully into who God created us to be at the very beginning…fully dependent, empowered disciples of Jesus Christ offering hope and life to a desperate and hurting world.

Our kids are watching.  Our friends and families are watching.  If we don’t lead them to the banqueting table and show them the value of sitting with the Lord, feasting on all He has to give us, who will?

Let’s eat!

 

*MSG refers to The Message.  It is a modern paraphrase of the Bible.  I like to use it when trying to clarify passages or get better understanding of context.  

Understanding.

One of the deepest longings of every human heart is to be known. So often we walk through seasons of loneliness, where we feel as if no one notices us…we could splat face-down on the sidewalk and the whole busy world would just keep walking, never turning to lend a hand or even gasp at our misfortune. We strive to be real, to be ourselves, yet struggle with the temptation to conform to what we feel we need to become in order to fit in with the crowd.

As a parent, this can be painful to learn and understand. How many of us have struggled to really “know” our kids? We have raised them, diapered them, looked into their innocent eyes and whispered, “You are mine and I love you so.” But as they grow and mature and change…well, it turns out they aren’t always like us. In fact, they may be quite opposite of us in many ways and we struggle to understand, to connect and to really know them.

I learned this with one of my older kids. During a season of difficulty a wise friend opened my eyes to the reality that this child who withdrew and retreated was a true introvert. Me, being an extrovert, simply had not entertained the possibility! This kid has been around me since infancy, exposed to all the friends and all the people and four siblings! How could they not love that?

But the truth helped me so much. It helped me to give grace when that child had had enough and needed to retreat to refuel. It gave me the ability to see the signs of social fatigue before they resulted in a meltdown. And it made me recognize my own introverted tendencies that, though not my daily norm, are still present and need to be acknowledged. (Very few people are 100% anything!) Sometimes I just need to be alone in order to recharge and have something to offer those around me without burning out.

As my younger children hit the teen years, I’m striving to understand their personality differences and recognize their needs. I am raising yet another introvert…a super friendly kid who absolutely loves being around their friends but when the fun is over, they are depleted and need alone time. Lots of it. And this child is followed by two extreme extroverts who gain energy from their interactions with friends and never. get. enough.

Which can cause issues among the siblings, if you know what I mean.

But just think, how wonderful is it that God created us all with unique needs and tendencies I look at the gifts He has given my children, how they manifest within their personalities and how differently each of them walk through life and express their faith.  They need to be known and understood, and the more I intentionally learn to do that the closer we become. It’s not a perfect process. I’m not perfectly patient…not even close. But gradually I am learning to back off and let them be who God created them to be, introvert/extrovert or any mix of the two.

And me? Well, I guess I’ve learned a lot about myself in this process. Me, the true extrovert who has walked up to rock stars and asked for a photo on behalf of my more-introverted husband. This girl who loves to be in the middle of a chatty group and laughing with friends becomes more introverted as I grow older. I find myself needing early morning quiet and evening calm. I seek time alone with a good book (or my Cello!)or just sitting in silence as the sunlight stretches across the morning sky. Being honest with myself and allowing those I love to express their needs without judgment breaks down walls and fosters the connection and understanding that is vital to a healthy relationship.

To be known is the greatest of blessings. It is the open door to love and connection. It is the key to intimacy and peace.

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.  Psalm 139:1-3

May we, dear mamas, allow ourselves to acknowledge the uniqueness of each of our children. And may we, as wives and friends, acknowledge the uniqueness of those within our circle of intimacy. In the wise words of Bob and Larry…

BobandLarry