A Different Kind of Pregnancy

Spring is always a time of remembrance for me. I start walking back through the timeline of the last 1/3 of my pregnancy. Bedrest in March, first at home, then in the hospital. The entire months of April & May were inpatient at Northside Hospital. The delivery in late May, the ICU for me for 1 week, 5 weeks of NICU...a July release.

All of this occurred 19 years ago, and yet the rhythm and timing today is strangely similar. Waiting with anticipation for college decisions here in March. Hopeful, concerned, and trying to make sense of bad news mixed with good. Instead of weekly ultrasounds on Tuesdays, we have decisions in portals on Fridays. Information that will shape and change our lives, but yet we have no real control over what is happening internally. We simply wait to be told.

We deliver in May--then into the world as infants and now as baby adults.

So here in March I start to feel the contractions. The babies are getting crowded. There is the urge to push--but questions linger about their readiness. Anxiety lurks about how radically all our lives will change.  The difference? My ability to be present and wide awake in it now. I am not ill and on the sidelines, honestly concerned I may not survive to see them grow up. Those prayers were answered. Praise the Lord, for that.

There is a perspective I lacked before. God is sovereign. He can be trusted. His Will be done. I couldn't help but think about Romans 8. I particularly love the plain-speak of the Message translation.

^19-21 Everything in creation is being more or less held back. God reins it in until both creation and all the creatures are ready and can be released at the same moment into the glorious times ahead. Meanwhile, the joyful anticipation deepens.

^22-25 All around us we observe a pregnant creation. The difficult times of pain throughout the world are simply birth pangs. But it’s not only around us; it’s within us. The Spirit of God is arousing us within. We’re also feeling the birth pangs. These sterile and barren bodies of ours are yearning for full deliverance. That is why waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. We are enlarged in the waiting. We, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. But the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

^26-28 Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.

^29-30 God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After he called them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun.

Three versions of delivery--2004, 2023, and God's eternal way--and in all three, my heart is very much involved. 

What Really Matters?

Like many parents before me, I have found the challenge of handing over the reins to my young adults emotionally challenging. Too much to fast, too little too late--it all depends on the child and the situation. 

Early this Fall as I started processing the ending of this chapter of parenthood and the beginning of another, I became a bit Ecclesiastical. In my exhaustion and cynicism I wondered if intentional parenting doesn't guarantee a result, what has all our investment been for? The temptation for a person who has long believed that everything matters is to swing wildly to the other side. What if nothing matters? 

I had the privilege over the last couple of weeks to read my Seniors' college admission essays. It has been a gift to read how they define themselves--especially what moments from their adolescence they determined to be transformative. Frankly, the big memories I tried to engineer aren't their watershed moments. Instead, it has been the more mundane, organic moments they cite as formative. 

So, I have arrived at this: You don't get to know in advance what matters down the road. 

Parenting, it seems, is a lot like throwing mud against the wall. Some sticks, but you can't predict what. So we sling love, hurl encouragement, and fling opportunities against the sturdy wall of our secure bond. Then, we wait to see what stays. 

Thanks to my blog hobby, I have my own version of some of my children's essay topics. Unsuprisingly, my perspective in the moment differs slightly from their recollection years later. A nod to Ecclesiastes 3: 11 "He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the hearts of men, yet they cannot fathom the work God has done from beginning to end. "

These blog posts reveal my own sanctification in the process of my children's formation. As a result, I can say with confidence that none of it is meaningless. God is always at work in the "unadorned pots of our everyday lives" (2 Corinthians 4:7)

To Him be the Glory!

Of course you are tired. Keep going.

We are in the midst of track season with Kate. She primarily is a distance runner, but sometimes participates in the 4x800 relay.

No matter how many races I have seen, the relay gets me every time. Runners push their bodies to the limits as they carry the baton for their leg, individually contributing their best to the team score, and then the focus shifts to the runner awaiting the handoff. There is anticipation, positioning, and movement. Sometimes it appears seamless, other times awkward, as the two runners try to match their speeds for a brief moment of connection. 

It takes true technique to secure a smooth handoff and despite all the practice, there is the occasional slip or miss that produces a loud clanging, a sympathetic crowd reaction, and a shift in the anticipated outcome of the race. 

I was thinking about all of this today because I have spoken to six different parents in 24 hours who are in the thick of teen parenting. We all feel this same sense of anticipation, excitement, and exhaustion as we try to finish this portion of our race well and hand off the baton of daily responsibility for these almost-adult lives. 

What I didn't understand until I experienced this phase is that there is not a single moment of release. Instead, we are performing this hand-off over and over again as we are passing our teens the responsibility for their academics, social lives, finances, health, and all other manner of choices. Sometimes we are more in sync than others. And THIS is the part of teen parenting that is exhausting.

I heard a seasoned Mom recently say, "I am really not worried about the outcome. I truly trust God with that. I just want to know I did my part well." Isn't that the cry of a faithful heart? 

So how do we do this part well? I think the attitudes of our hearts are a huge part. Much of the rest, ironically, came from one of the many online lists I saw of proper baton handoff techniques. I couldn't help but giggle when I read these seven steps in a ten-step list.

• One carries the baton.
• Adjustments are made as they approach the handoff.
• The runners share the baton.
• Communication is vital.
• Release when the baton is firmly in the next runner's hand.
• Do not slow down until the baton is passed. 

And the last one made me laugh out loud...

• Stay in your lane.

As always, so much easier to pontificate than to practice, but I couldn't help but share this metaphor God used to speak to my heart.

My runner taught me another important lesson recently. When I asked her how she ran so many miles without pain she replied, "I don't. After 2-3 miles my body starts to hurt a little but I tell myself 'of course you hurt, you've run a long way,' and then I keep running." 

That, my friends, will preach. 

"Let us run with patience the race marked out before us." -Hebrews 12:1b

Dormancy

While my Northwest Georgia home has escaped the icy deep freeze wreaking havoc on other Southern states, it is still a cool 21 degrees this morning. My schedule is quite light due to the Pandemic. My adolescents are all at school after a 4 day weekend. Our two dogs are sleeping soundly at my feet and I am in my quiet house with only a soundtrack of a softly swishing dishwasher.

My task list today includes lots of laborious tax preparation, so I am procrastinating by thinking about the changes the last 11 months have brought to my life. 

I am curious how we will define this chapter in retrospect. 

As I stare out my kitchen window at the barren branches of Winter trees, the word that seems to be rattling around in my brain this morning is dormancy. (Of course, this led me down a rabbit trail of researching middle school science facts I had long forgotten about what really happens during a period that mostly feels like a pause.)

I will spare you the whole lesson, but what struck me was the two types of dormancy: Predictive, which happens in anticipation of adverse conditions and consequential, which results from adverse conditions. As a parent of triplet teenagers during this last crazy year, I think I have experienced a double dose of dormancy caused by both the anticipation of challenges (driving, dating, college readiness, etc.) and the actual circumstances of living through 2020-21 (Covid, politics, culture wars, etc.) 

I have always heard that parenting teenagers is the loneliest stage of motherhood, but doing so when usual outlets for meaningful face-to-face connection are missing adds a whole different layer. Additionally, my ability to process our challenges out loud through writing has been stifled by my desire to protect my people's stories. The last thing an adolescent needs in their tenuous growth phase is hyper analysis and play-by-play reports or veiled references on the Internet.

Add to this mix that I have a few political takes that don't fit neatly in any box and the result is feeling quite alien and increasingly unknown. The reality is that I am a communicator. I don't know how to 'be' in relationships when I can't be totally authentic. I despise the illusion of connection that happens when people cannot talk about what is really on their minds--so I have been in retreat mode. The upshot to this has been a deepening of trust with my teens, more partnership with my spouse, and increased reliance on and intimacy with the Lord. 

As I reflected on all this today, I was drawn to the words of poet David Whyte:

"Withdrawal can be the very best way of stepping forward and done well, a beautiful freeing act of mercy and as an art form, underestimated in this time of constant action and engagement... Withdrawal is often not what it looks like - a disappearance - no, to withdraw from entanglement can be to appear again in the world in a very real way and begin the process of renewing the primary, essential invitation again...

...We withdraw not to disappear, but to find another ground from which to see; a solid ground from which to step, and from which to speak again, in a different way, a clear, rested, embodied voice, our life as a sudden, emphatic statement, one we can recognize as our own and one from which now, we have absolutely no wish to withdraw."

-‘WITHDRAWAL’ From CONSOLATIONS:
The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words. © David Whyte

It seems appropriate that I am writing this on Ash Wednesday, as Lent represents the 40 days of fasting and prayer during which Jesus prepared for the next season of his ministry. 

And this is why dormancy is such a hopeful word for me today--because it isn't permanent. Dormancy is a necessary phase in a healthy growth cycle. Even more exciting is the reminder of what follows dormancy--explosive growth and blooms of new life. 

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:19 NIV

Parenting Teens in a Pandemic

Since my teens returned to school I have been rapidly consuming adolescent development, Christian parenting, and positive mental health resources through books, podcasts, articles, and conversations with trusted people.

Here are a few that have spoken the most to me this week: 

Love Her Well by Kari Kampakis

Java with Judi podcast (a ministry of Authentic Intimacy)

All About Boys podcast by David Thomas (based on his book, Wild Things: The Art of Nurturing Boys)

The 2020 Back-to-School List for Teens' Emotional Well-Being by Dr. Lisa D'Amour

As a result, I have a few reflections: 

1. One of the things teenagers value most is honesty and authenticity. Being able to honestly say to my people, "I have never done this before...I am learning right along with you," seems like a great place to start in maintaining my credibility with them. It invites grace with integrity. 

"Whereas you cannot provide certainty, you must provide clarity. Parents, leaders, influencers, mayors, senators, you can be uncertain! You can be uncertain but you cannot afford to be unclear. Our mandate, as leaders, is to be clear even when things are not certain. Clarity is honest and clarity, as we're gonna discover, is enough. And here's why I say that; clarity is actually perceived as leadership. Clarity is actually experienced as leadership. Clarity, in the midst of uncertainty, creates its own influence, its own momentum." - Andy Stanley, sermon "Leading with Clarity"

2. While much is written about the challenges of those virtually/hands-on homeschooling little ones-- and the parents doing this have my deepest empathy-- sending my adolescents back out into the world after a cozy bonus few months in the nest has its own unique set of considerations. 

I have been hovering over them trying to make this COVID season special and safe for five months. Developmentally, this is the time when my teens really should be individuating--learning important and lasting lessons socially--and finding their footing with budding independence. COVID precautions stunted that growth. 

“The work of mothering a son is mostly about stepping aside with precise timing. I want my sons, both of them, to learn from me that they are free to be rooted in home and still be abroad in the world as men." Gina Bria, The Art of Family

My introvert is thrilled to have excuses to retreat to online games and forums, my extrovert has to negotiate with us over the risks and precautions for every planned outing, and my teen that hasn't found their social footing is struggling with how to do so in these unusual times. How do you make new friends and form an intimate group when groups aren't allowed? 

In normal 16-year-old circumstances, youth leaders would be present as healthy and trusted voices to navigate these decisions. A typical sophomore year of high school would present many social opportunities to develop these skills. Alas, this is 2020 where developmental and mental health concerns must be weighed against community health risks and mandates. It is exhausting!

3. After a 3am wrestling match with the Lord and my worries this morning, I feel like I left with a mantra:

• Parent with the LONG VIEW in mind...character, faith, foundational truth...not just behavior management.  
• LISTEN and LOVE more than lecturing. Now more than ever, home should be a safe place.
• Let the Lord have His way in His time with the hearts of these His children. He loves them more than I do. He sees the big picture and the deepest places in their hearts. I can trust Him. 

I still have so much to learn, but I am grateful for what the Lord is revealing to me and how He is growing me in this process. I hope some of these lessons are encouraging to you as well. 

“Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes." Matthew 6:34 MSG

One day at a time. 

May 2020: 16 Year old Milestones

Kate, Ryland & Parker:

I am writing this to you, lest we forget what a historic month May 2020 turned out to be--for you personally and in our nation.

At the first of the month, pandemic restrictions were lifted in Georgia and we took a 36 hour trip to the beach. It turns out sand in our toes was grounding. The sun on our skin was therapeutic. A change of scenery was a glorious gift to our mental health.

We returned home for a final week of online school. Ninth grade is officially complete!

A week later you all became gainfully employed with your first jobs--K & R lifeguarding and P at a favorite local deli. You filled out your first tax forms and rose to the occasion of adult activities like drug screens, orientations, and negotiating work schedules.

On the 26th we celebrated your 16th birthday in a back-to-basics driveby/stop by front yard gathering with friends. Watching all of you interact was a reminder of how important social interaction is--never forget the gift of community and friendship!

Kate and Ryland each passed their driver's test--another non-traditional affair as Covid regulations prohibited the examiner from riding in the car. Instead, she watched with her clipboard as your Dad and I rode in silence (under threat of penalty) if we spoke. This proved harder for one of us than the other. ;-)

Parker, you wisely chose to let the first wave of new drivers pass as you take your time with your training and grow in your confidence. Having your own fleet of chauffeurs seems to be just fine by you! You also colored your hair in an evolving attempt to find your style. Your unapologetic individuality is a joy to behold.

I didn't mention the first date and new crush that emerged from this month for two of you...and what an absolute handful our pandemic pup has been. Suffice it to say, there are a lot of milestones to note in this house!

It is now the first week of June and even without camp, this Summer is proving to be one of tremendous growth. Physically,  all three of you are over 5 feet. (5 ft K, 5'4" P, and 5'9" R) Spiritually, you each are investing in your personal relationships with the Lord and your church family. Civically, you are learning how to work hard and contribute at home and in the world.

The racial unrest in our country has led to deep and important conversations about the multi-layered complexities of race in this country and how we can serve as allies. There are no easy answers--but I am so proud of your willingness to consider the questions.

We have spoken of the importance of lament, leadership, compassion, and authentic love of neighbor.

And that was May.

This has been a month I've wondered about since I knew I was carrying triplets--three 16 years olds!! But I can honestly say, as with most things, the anticipation was far more emotional than the actual season. Perhaps it is because there have been SO MANY firsts, I haven't been riding the waves.  Instead, I feel buoyant with hope and joy.

While I know the Covid crisis has been devastating for countless people, the time at home before you emerged into the world this Summer was truly formative.

I know this is just the beginning of all that comes with budding independence and adolescence, but I am truly more joyful than sad and clinging to the hope of Phillippians1:6 "He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it..."

"So, be truly glad, there is wonderful joy ahead..." I Peter1:6

Choosing Joy in this Journey

Last Fall I was asked to speak to women in our congregation about my journey towards a life of joy. I had no idea then how diving deeply into the Scriptural commands to be joyful would be so nourishing to my spirit mere months later.  

At the time, my greatest thief of joy was the way my teenaged triplets were slipping away as they asserted their adolescent independence and how I mourned the loss of quality time with them. (Oh, how this makes me giggle now after two straight weeks of uninterrupted quality time due to a worldwide pandemic!)

This afternoon I pulled out the notes from my November talk and was reminded of a few specific truths that bear repeating. Life as we know it has drastically changed, but God’s Word stands as a timeless and firm anchor for our souls.

Many of us have spent years sitting under solid teaching, meeting in small group studies, and doing our own personal study of Scripture. This season is our opportunity, as Paul exhorts in Philippians 4:9, to put into practice what you learned, heard, saw and realized. “And the God of peace will be with you.” Philippians 4:10 (NIV)

I Peter 1:8-9 describes being “filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy” as a result of faith and trust that is not based on circumstances. Our joy must flow from the Spirit that we KNOW not the news we hear, the future we fear, or the scarcity we feel. This world is not our home, our citizenship is in Heaven (Philippians 320). We are being given the unique opportunity to hold out the Word of Life to our family, friends and a watching world as we walk through these days with hope and faith anchored not in the temporary, but the eternal.

Rick Warren has defined joy as “the settled assurance that God is in control of all the details of my life, the quiet confidence that ultimately everything is going to be alright, and the determined choice to praise God in every situation.” (emphasis mine)

So, let’s go forth in peace, joy, and confidence that can only be explained by Christ. Cling to the truth and look for the gifts.  

“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction and constant in prayer.” Romans 12:12

(I wrote this for a church publication, but am crossposting here for posterity.)

Parenting with Faith Over Fear

Yesterday the courts made official what we had been anticipating. After a year, our 4-year-old foster daughter was reunified with her biological parents. There will be another post about that...but as I was having coffee in a quiet early morning house today I read a post by Preston Yancey and felt a sweet reminder of how God is working so many things together for good in my heart and family right now. 


Preston's post has a different point than mine, but in the beginning, he shares a story about times in his life when fear and shame have been attempted as motivators, but what won out was encouragement and faith. Specifically, God powerfully used an obscure verse in Habakkuk to plant a future hope in him when he was 13 years old.

"Look at the nations and watch-- and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told." Habakkuk 1:5 NIV

I have been tempted to worry about the child who has left our home. Her safety and overall development have been my concern for the last year--and now I will hopefully get an occasional visit. I pray hard against recurrences of the issues that led to her removal. I field questions from well-intentioned friends about what the 'what ifs.'

Meanwhile, I am sending three young teenagers into the world at warp speed. My Summer is a mixture of camp drop-offs--where they are out of my sights for 1-3 weeks at a time, preparing for the brand new world of high school, and teaching them the immense responsibility of driving on real roads with other human beings. 

Last week I started compiling a list of life survival/adulting skills my husband and I have yet to cover and I am almost at 200--the same number of weeks we have left with them before high school graduation. In all of these things, there are true safety considerations. They are still minors and my job is to teach them to live outside the nest...but as they become increasingly independent I find myself fighting daily fears of what could happen if things don't go well.

I want them to fly, not flop. While I know that scars and hard knocks are powerfully used to sanctify and develop us into adults who are used by the Lord, I adore these people and frankly, would prefer they arrive at adulthood as innocent and intact as possible.

So, the temptation is to desperately warn them about ALL THE THINGS. Be on guard!  The verse from Habakkuk this morning, however, took me back to being their age. I am reminded that I was never attracted to the fear-mongerers. I wanted to hear from the people who believed in me and spoke to me about the bright hope of the future. I think even of our most recent foster, at least once a week at prayer time she would point to the large painting of Jeremiah 29:11 over her bed and say, "Just pray that tonight, Mama." We all want to reassurance that there is a plan, maintained by someone stronger and wiser than us, for future hope.

Perhaps the most powerful lesson God has impressed upon me in our 4 years of foster parenting is that even our biological children are entrusted to us but for a little while. We stood before our congregation and proclaimed many years ago our belief that they are His. We build all sorts of safety nets, invest in future dreams and give them everything we have--but ultimately, we are not in control of their future. We can either be terrified by this or exhilarated.

May we never let our parental fears drown out our overwhelming hope we have for the life God has planned for the people we love. This is challenging. It requires us to loosen our white-knuckled grip and release them to their loving Creator. It is a daily laying down of our will for His. We must put this phrase on repeat: Faith triumphs fear. 

We want the people we love to be safe and dare I even say wildly successful, but at some point we have to ask ourselves how success will be measured. As for me, I choose God's utterly amazing story. 

"Look at the nations and watch-- and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told." 

May

The proverbial winds of change are palpable in my home these days.

The celebrations of the middle school 'lasts' have begun. All three of my children have wrapped up the final Spring sports. The Spring play is complete. High school registration has begun.

In the next 3 weeks, my trio will graduate from middle school, turn 15, test for learners' permits and begin their whirlwind of Summer experiences.

Next month, our foster child is scheduled to be reunified with her biological family after a year in our home.

I realized today that I have created 4 different calendars--on my phone, in a binder, on my refrigerator and in a countdown app to mark the time--as if somehow re-writing it is walking me through heart preparations and making it all more real.

I suppose in some ways it is a non-traditional prayer--a meditation of sorts on what is coming. As I write, I surrender the future to the One I believe holds it all together.

I want desperately to navigate the waters of all these transitions well--for myself and for the hearts entrusted to my care. As much as I am inclined to verbally process, I am trying to spend time being quiet. I want to listen to the Lord and allow Him to tend my heart and guide me in how to love my husband, my three individual bio children and our foster child well.

He has spoken to me most recently through Matthew 6:34 in the Message translation:

  “Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes."


So much is coming...even as I type in my quiet kitchen I think I can faintly hear the rumbling of the herd of milestones in the distance. 

I am absolutely expectant but committed to not taking my attention off the lessons, joys and needs of today. Keep me focused, Lord. 

What's Next, Papa?

This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike “What’s next, Papa?”  Romans 8:15 (MSG)

I am riding an exhilarating parenting roller coaster in this season, but especially today. I had court first thing this morning to determine the next steps for the precious four-year-old foster child we've been parenting for the last nine months. 


People who have never been through the foster care process often ask me what the significance of a court date means and frankly, they are simply mile markers. Every few months we check in with the legal system to make sure everyone's rights are being observed and to monitor progress on the case and if any changes to case plans are in order. At these hearings, the judge sets a course and tells the caseworkers what (if any) leeway they have in charting next steps in visitations, etc. based on the progress of the parents in their case plan.


The stress of that is hard to explain. It is the periodic reminder that this child I've loved as one of my own's case/ future is not even remotely in my control. I sit in a room full of adults making serious decisions about her future while she’s blissfully unaware at preschool. Surreal. Humbling. Forces me to trust.


I am walking out onto the high dive, surveying the height, calculating the risk...I hear the Spirit whisper, "Do you still trust me?"


A lot happens in a short period of time in court (today, under 20 minutes) and it takes a few follow up conversations to process implications on every one's lives and schedules. 


After court today I had a two hour window before I had to attend our first official high school meeting for my trio. Talk about emotional whiplash! 


As the faculty members discussed rigorous course loads and future goals, the reality set in of all the growth, path charting and decisions coming our way. I am thrilled to see my tribe grow and change, but their exposure to the great big world increases every day. Again, I hear the Spirit whisper, "Do you still trust me?"


In the course of my running around today, my random playlist landed on Turn Your Eyes by Vicky Beeching. I listened to those lyrics on repeat.  


“Look full in His Wonderful Face and the things of Earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His Glory and Grace.” 


I am so grateful to love this Jesus, who meets me in the mundane and overwhelming me with care and concern for my little heart. 

In response to that love, I respond. Yes, I choose to trust. I choose to be lost in the beauty and sovereignty of the Lord instead of my limited perspective and fears. 

I choose to respond with childlike expectancy, "What's next, Papa?"

The Ministry of Margin

As I wrote in my last post, my Summer has a lot of empty space. I thought I was leaving this space for foster children to join our family and have been frustrated that "I rearranged my life" to help and not being utilized. (Yucky to admit, but true.)

Last week all three of my children were out of town and my husband was working long surgical hours--so I took advantage of the ability to leave the state without permission (a condition a foster child would have required.) I journeyed down to Florida to visit a dear friend who lives at the beach. I was feeling a bit selfish about it until I arrived and it became clear how much we both needed this visit. She had major life circumstances occurring and I was able to enter in fully and lend friendship, support, and a practical hand to share some of her burden.

On the long drive home, God spoke to my heart about being available for whatever He had in store for us-- even if it was not our plan. He reminded me that His Way was to yield my life to love and a robust schedule often doesn't leave room for the needs that crop up. That there are good works that He has planned in advance for us to do (Ephesians 2:10)--and they frequently don't look like our plans, lest we should boast. (Ephesians 2:9)

This change in perspective alone allowed me to see countless places my 'free time' could be used as a ministry. I was able to pause and really talk to neighbors along the way in my errands. In doing so, I became aware of a few needs that were relatively easy to meet thanks to my open calendar.

My prayer time in the morning has felt more consistent and less hurried thanks to fewer commitments. I have been prompted to reach out to people and actually let them know how the Lord has prompted me to pray for them.

It is no exaggeration to see God has put people and circumstances in my life multiple times a day that I would normally wish I had time to help, but during this season I really can.

I don't write any of this to elevate myself, but instead to record this lesson for future reference. There is a ministry of margin--when we live beneath our means in terms of time and financial resources, God will use both in ways we could not have expected.

"Good" Timing vs. God Timing

I am in the strangest season--a period of waiting for God to deliver on something I feel really 'ready' for (another foster placement) and it is taking longer than it ever has to get a phone call.

My kids are 14 and very independent. I suddenly have a lot more time on my hands at home. I have purposely stepped away from commitments, committees and travel in order to make space to foster. As a result, life feels very orderly and like there is absolutely room in our car, calendar, home and hearts to share the love and provide a place of refuge for a child or two in need. But, the call is not coming.

This is a beautiful thing! It means the needs of hurting children are being covered by family members instead of well-intentioned strangers--or perhaps that there is a decrease in the number of kids who need a safe home. When I pause and really take that in, I rejoice...but there are other moments where I confess I feel impatient and discontent.

I can't help but wonder what God is up to. Our journey as foster parents has been full of stops and starts. In 3 years we have experienced 7 placements ranging from 3 days of respite to 18 months before adoption by the children's family member. Each time a child leaves we press pause to regroup emotionally and those breaks have ranged from a few weeks to several months. Because we view this as a whole family ministry, we have multiple conversations as a family to get a feel for everyone's heart/call until there is a confident peace that we are all ready and willing to re-open our home and our hearts. We have had that for months and not been called upon.

Foster care is unique because it is so full of unknowns--a huge point of sanctification for a person wired like me. I am a planner with a capital P--especially in the Summer when we have so much downtime and my adventurous spirit wants to maximize it all. Yet, the reality is there is only so much physical preparation you can do not knowing gender, age, personality, background or length of stay. I have toothbrushes and clothing on hand for multiple scenarios. I hold on to a limited number of books, games, crafts for our littlest guests. All I need is a kiddo or two to get on with this next chapter...and God, without explanation, says not yet.

He said to them: “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. ~Acts 1:7

The waiting is especially frustrating this Summer because my teenagers are gone so often for camps, trips with friends, youth trips, etc that I have an abundance of free time with an almost empty house. The timing seems so right through my Earthly eyes!

I am trying to make the most of the time. I have even completed the annual continuing education/training requirement 6 months early. I have been playing a mental/emotional game where I imagine different scenarios every week... two little boys, dramatic older elementary girls, a quiet reserved single child, an older sibling who has been 'default parenting' the younger and is threatened by our role, non-English speaking children, different levels of trauma. And I am praying-- A LOT. I have prayed for our readiness, for the child or children who is undoubtably in a traumatic season of their life and for their birth family and whatever challenges they are facing.

I know the willingness and our hearts is what God is really after--but it is still a strange feeling to know you were called, to rearrange your life and then to sit and wait.

The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,  to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. ~Lamentations 3:25-26

As I have processed through all of this I have been reminded of the MANY far more painful things people in my life are waiting for--and God has enlarged my compassion for the friends waiting to conceive, waiting to adopt, waiting for a cure, waiting to meet a mate, waiting for a rescue, waiting for a miracle...

I am reminded that regardless of the details or circumstances, in all of it we either trust the sovereignty of the one writing our story or we don't. I am publishing this as my (somewhat embarrassing) confession and as a public commitment to put off the impatience I feel simply because I want to know/plan/control.

"How hard it can be to trust in God’s timing...Sometimes it seems as if we are not even on God’s clock. Yet, there is never a time in which He is not aware of the desires of our hearts... His timing will always be perfect, even when our trust in it is not." -Jada Pryor

..but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. ~Isaiah 40:31

Tips for Digital Kids

Our church recently hosted Walt Mueller from the Center for Parent/Youth Understanding to talk about parenting in a digital age. As an expert on youth culture, parent and grandparent he had many helpful insights and tips. I couldn't keep up with all the nuggets of truth he was dropping, but here are a few quick bits and pieces I jotted down:

• Immersion in technology makes us oblivious to the world (because we become accustomed to only seeing it through a screen), to each other (by being physically present but detached), to ourselves (because we are always reworking & remaking ourselves to gain likes instead of Christlikeness) and to God (culture is catechizing us instead of God). 
• Our habits & practices form us. The things we spend time with shape us. Are we growing in our faith or being misshapened by our consumption of tech?
• Be careful posting pride in your kids' appearance, athletics and academics--this can inadvertently communicate to our children that our love for them is performance based. Affirm them for who they are not how they look or what they do. Let their grades and accomplishments speak for themselves. 
• Fabricating, curating and promoting self becomes a counterfeiter/falsifier of people. 
• Before posting always take a purposeful pause to ask: Does this matter? Is it true? Why am I posting this God?
• Have a family covenant/code of conduct for tech use. (His website has a great example.)

1 Corinthians 10:31 "Whatever you do, do it to the glory of the Lord"
Proverbs 22:30 "The prudent see danger and turn from it, but the foolish keep going and suffer for it."

There were so many excellent points in his talk, I encourage you to check out the Digital Kids Initiative website for a plethora of resources.

When God Has Other Plans

 January 17-22

A couple of months ago I received an unexpected call from my friend Michelle. She and I met last March when our family toured the Holy Land during Spring Break. Michelle works for Young Life organizing trips for people of all ages and stages to serve on cultural expeditions with the ministry. She invited me to join a group of women traveling to Haiti this month.

Something flipped in my chest immediately as we spoke and I knew this sounded like an adventure I would love to join. As a middle-aged homemaker, the idea of going with a small group of people I had never met to see this place so often in the news for its spirit of overcoming amidst devastation lit a fire in me.

Trip preparation included shots and preventative medications. It also involved reading about this nation's difficult history and the hope the people possess despite their circumstances. I was intimidated but inspired. I was praying and preparing for my heart to be broken into a million pieces and buoyed by the great hope of the Haitian people. The preparation made me feel challenged in a new way and more courageous than I have felt in some time. I realized that I wanted my kids to see me as brave.

My bags were packed a full week in advance of my departure--including the extra bag I was responsible for carrying over 50 pounds of supplies which had been donated for the various ministries we were planning to visit.

My instructions for kids, husband and in-laws were typed. Laundry was caught up.

And then, real life happened.

At 4am the night before I was scheduled to depart my RyGuy woke up with a 102 fever. I took him in for flu and strep swabs once the sun came up--and he was positive for Flu A. Several considerations flooded my brain to be factored into my decision.
In no particular order:
A sick kid (no matter the age needs their parent).
My husband has to work with already ill people all day, he can't get sick nor can he stay home for a week.
What if all the other kids contract it too?
Who will keep a flu positive kid (or 3) while I flee town?
What if I start showing symptoms after I have flown in a confined space with dozens of unwitting passengers? Or been holding babies in an orphanage and interacting with our Haitian hosts?

It seemed pretty clear that the wise thing to do was stay...but my plans had been made, my bags were packed and I felt like a quitter... So much for being brave.

Many are the plans in a person's heart, but it is the LORD's purpose that prevails. 
Proverbs 19:21 NIV

I resisted the urge to rush to a lesson too quickly. I wanted to start writing about all of this immediately but decided to talk to God about it instead. I realized that disappointment was rooted in the fact that my heart was longing for the adventure of somewhere else and my God was asking me to serve right here. It was not as sexy or exciting, but it was needed. 

As I kept asking God for a big revelation of why he left me here instead of sending me there I found myself looking at the moments of my life with renewed expectancy. My calendar was literally blank. Each day felt like an uncommitted, free gift. I found myself asking, "Show me why I am here, God. I wasn't planning this, but apparently, You were--so show me why. Use me today."

After a couple of days of praying that, it hit me. This prayer, this PERSPECTIVE was why God left me here. After my near-death experience when the triplets were born, I felt this way a lot. I had a renewed lens for looking at the world where every day felt like a bonus round. As that has become a distant memory, I have been taking my days for granted. It turns out the not going to Haiti was a chance to wipe my lenses clean--clear off the smudges of busy-ness and look for God and His Purposes in my everyday life again.

I was going on an exposure trip--to take supplies, prayer and encouragement to the Haitian nationals already serving. They didn't need me. My family did.

I thought I was going to come back with a message of hope to share from a third world nation and instead I got an important chance to reprioritize some things-- right here in my first world life. Dare I say, I found a renewed message of hope to share right smack in the middle of the ordinary life I live.

 “When you come looking for me, you’ll find me.

“Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I’ll make sure you won’t be disappointed.” God’s Decree. 

Jeremiah 29:13-14a

I am a big fan or going, serving and getting out of our first world bubbles--but I was reminded this week that I serve a God who can be heard, felt and experienced in powerful ways wherever we are.

I am grateful for that.

Lord, I am yours--and so are my days. Help me to remember each one is a gift from you and for you.

Muscle Building

I hate working out.

I love outdoor adventures. I enjoy family bike rides, hikes and swimming--but something about going to the gym turns me off. I don't enjoy it--and I am not particularly good at delayed gratification. I like to see return for my work that gives me a boost to keep going.

As you might imagine, there is rarely a dull moment in a house full of 13 year olds. I actually asked one of my children if for my birthday I could have one week without a call or e-mail from a teacher or school representative. Most of this particular child's adventures are harmless, but it would be dishonest to say I haven't struggled with WHAT IN THE WORLD we can do with this kid.

While I have been involved in various aspects of youth ministry for two decades, parenting teens is a different role than being their Young Life leader, their Sunday School teacher or their Bible Study facilitator or mentor.

I am gobbling up wise words like a starving person--and as I read, pray, listen and reflect on experiences the word that comes to mind over and over again is PROCESS. This is a process. 

In no other stage of life have we expected our children to learn immediately and without errors. When our babies were learning to walk, falling was a part of the deal. We laughed, clapped and comforted. We didn't lecture and act ashamed.  

When they were trying solid foods we took copious photos of their messy faces and trays. Our potty training toddlers were expected to have accidents. We rejoiced when they didn't and understood bladder control was a new skill and it would take time to perfect.  

Why then, do we wring our hands and fret endlessly over the stumbles, accidents and messiness of the growing adolescent?

Adolescence is a stage in life where the stakes seem higher because we are starting to see the launch date on the horizon. The sound of the ticking clock gets louder and the expectations and fears ring in our ears. 

Last week as I was walking through a painful life lesson with a child I was reminded that he has to grow his muscles--and that means working them out...having them stretched, reaching his limits. And as his muscles are growing, so are mine...

We can choose to walk in fear or in faith. One is non-productive and sinful...and the other one is difficult, but the command God has given us.

FAITH not fear.

I recently read a rephrasing of 2 Corinthians 9 for parenting that I found very encouraging.
"No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no human mind has conceived--the things God has planned for those who love Him--including the good planned for your kiddos. TRUST."

The Call

Last night our city held its annual Christmas parade. The festive, community-building tradition overtakes our town. Broad Street parking is filled early in the day by pickup trucks positioned so family and friends have tailgate "stadium seating" for the big event. Folding chairs start lining the center median hours in advance.  Marching bands and Shrine clowns abound as more than a dozen blocks are occupied by float lineup. Hundreds of participants buzz during the final fluffing on locally made flatbed floats full of tiny mites football players, Girl Scouts, pageant queens and church nativities.

I had to have Kate downtown for a theater rehearsal right in the midst of the madness one hour before the parade's start. As I was navigating the re-routed traffic on my way home I had a flashback to this very night and exact street two years ago when we got the call asking if we would take the baby sister of the two little girls we were already fostering. It was a gut-wrenching question because I knew how challenging it would be. Saying yes meant SIX children under the age of twelve for the foreseeable future--including all day every day for Christmas Break.

I remember my prayer, alone in the car, before I called Ryland to discuss. I was grateful for the countless detours because I needed to drive in the dark--counting the cost. I knew the right answer was yes. But I was afraid.

This is the fostering journey. Counting the cost but walking in obedience--frightened, aware of the risk but trusting that God will be with us--strengthening, helping and upholding.

When people speak of foster parenting they often say, "I could never love a child knowing they would leave. I could never let them go." But I am learning the key to Godly parenting is remembering they are not your possession--they are His.

We have had seven foster children come and go now for periods ranging from 4 days to 18 months and each have left a piece of themselves indelibly marked on our hearts and family life. The precious little girl we had in the Fall is now with a wonderful long-term placement and I am able to communicate regularly with her new Mama. It is a gift to find my role in that scenario as a fierce prayer warrior who knows and adores the child, able to encourage her sometimes weary new family through this transition.

Last Wednesday I ran into the 7 year old boy we had at the beginning of the Summer. He left our home under very difficult circumstances that still sting my heart. Our 'accidental' encounter included big, warm hugs with the boy and his birth Mom. It was a reminder that even after a child leaves, the story goes on and our lives may continue to intersect.

Earlier this month we had the privilege of providing respite for a foster family from our church. I was nervous about hosting a 15 year old boy we had never met, but he was truly a gift. He and my husband have developed a friendship that has continued despite his departure.

All these threads--their lives and ours, seasons of various lengths are being woven together in a tapestry. From our position, up close and in the center of the action, we lack the perspective to see the bigger picture but we trust the Master Weaver whose movements are perfect and full of purpose.

We are in a holding pattern with fostering right now. The combination of some extended travel plans over the next few months and issues within our family that required some focused attention, have led us into a sabbatical season. But I am beginning to feel the stirring again, the call of the Lord to prepare to get back in the game is getting louder in my heart. Frankly, it is followed by questions, doubts, selfish objections as I count the personal cost and fear.

Which brings me back to the flashback of my phone call.  The calls never come at convenient times. I received our first one during the last innings of a playoff baseball game, one in the middle of the night in Israel, another while I was weeping in my driveway after hitting my beloved pet. True obedience doesn't get to be on our schedule.

When we get a phone call for a placement we have no idea what awaits us on the other line--the breadth and depth of circumstances which have brought this child into care. Their gender, age, and name are about all we have. We do not know how long they will need to stay, what issues they bring with them and how God will use each of our lives to sanctify and shape the others. But I am learning there are things we DO know when we get those calls. God will be with us. He is enough. Nothing is wasted. Hearts will be changed.

In light of this almost-Advent season I thought of the 'call' Mary received via the Angel Gabriel's visit to announce she was being entrusted with a child.

I re-read the story from Luke 1in the Message translation this morning and several portions struck me in a new way.

29 She was thoroughly shaken, wondering what was behind a greeting like that. But the angel assured her, “Mary, you have nothing to fear. God has a surprise for you...

Because of where I am in my parenting journey, I realize this is the call we get with each of the children God entrusts to our care--whether through our womb or some other way. Even if our children were 'planned,' He has surprises for us. 

It is sobering and humbling to watch our children's lives unfold. It is a messy and glorious process. I long to respond to His Call with less tight-fisted attempts to control and more submission and trust. The older I get the more I find, I don't want to miss the adventures God has planned for me--even the ones that are painful and difficult. The adventures that leave the scars seem to be the richest ones.

So, we are resting up. Enjoying a restorative break but listening for the next call and praying we have the faith of Mary to respond. 

v 37-38 Mary said, "Yes, I see it all now; I’m the Lord’s maid, ready to serve. Let it be with me just as you say."

Found

There are storms raging on our television screens, twitter feeds & facebook timelines 24/7 these days...Harvey, Irma, Jose. We are overwhelmed by photos of destruction, warnings of impending danger and shifting what-if scenarios.

Off the screens and in our real lives there are countless other storms brewing and wreaking havoc. I am surrounded by people experiencing soul crushing storms: illnesses, financial ruin, addiction, families in crisis.

And in my guest bedroom, there is Little Bit, a precious preschool aged foster child who has already experienced more loss and tragedy in her short life than my adult heart can comprehend.

It is really all so much. Yesterday it felt like too much. I was heavy, useless, walking around in a fog, lost in my own what-if scenarios, frustration with 'the system,' weariness at this sin-sullied world. The realization that I cannot fix any of it left this doer in an identity crisis of sorts.

As I talked about it off and on with God through the day, I felt led to call a prayer warrior from my church and vomit my worries and emotions. She responded by reading Psalms to me over the phone. When we hung up I read a few more in the quiet before beginning my afternoon carline drill.

As bedtime approached, Little Bit, normally an easy going, sweet and compliant child just started wailing. As I tried to nudge her through the bedtime routine, assuming it was exhaustion fueling her outburst, she started screaming, "On my inside, I just feel so much pain. It hurts so much I just want to scream." (Yes, those were the words of a preschooler!)

Keenly aware of my inability to fix,  I wrapped her wet, post bath body up in a towel and sat with her while she screamed. Perched on the toilet seat, I pulled her into my lap and started to rock. She asked if we could go rock "in a real chair" so we moved to the porch. After a few minutes of quiet, we returned to her bedroom. Getting her settled, I reached in a basket of books and pulled out Sally Lloyd-Jones' Found: Psalm 23. Psalms had ministered to me earlier that day, and it seemed a good choice for this moment.

Little Bit had never been to church before foster care. When I said the name Jesus to her a few days ago she asked "Who is he?" So as I read this paraphrased for children rendition of Psalm 23, beautifully illustrated with a little lamb and a tender shepherd who feeds, guides, protects and takes care, she hung on every word. This wasn't an old familiar story, it was a revelation.

In the center of the book, it says "Even when I walk through the dark, scary, lonely places I won't be afraid. Because my shepherd knows where I am. He is here with me."

As I read these lines Little Bit slapped her hand on the page, looked straight into my eyes and implored, "Is this real? Is this true?"
With a breath-taking realization that this was a sacred, important moment, I managed to squeeze out a "Yes. Yes, it IS true."
"Keep reading," she commanded.
"He keeps me safe. He rescues me. He makes me strong and brave."
She listened intently as I turned the page...

Look at that promise: He is getting things ready...just for this little lamb. And her heart that needed to scream because it was in so much pain? It is his desire to fill it with so much happiness it can't be held inside.

I was deeply convicted by how little faith I have had. I have been tied up in knots trying to make a plan for Little Bit's life---fearful of her spirit and heart being crushed by 'the system' rather than trusting her Creator.

And the final line? It says:
"Wherever I go I know...
God's Never Stopping
Never Giving Up
Unbreaking
Always and Forever Love
will go, too!"

In that moment I thought surely David wrote this Psalm so that Sally Lloyd-Jones and Jago would reproduce it JUST FOR THIS NIGHT.

We grown up Christians can make things so complicated--the Gospel is clear and true.

I am not the boss of anyone's life, but there is an AUTHOR, a RESCUER, a PERFECTER, a SHEPHERD.

He sees us in the dark nights of our pain. He knows what we need. He is trustworthy. He is indeed a very good shepherd.

"He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart." Isaiah 40:11a

I'm so grateful.

Our Holy Land Experience: Old Jerusalem, Gethsemane, Holocaust Museum, Western Wall

Tuesday morning we explored the Old City of Jerusalem, a relatively small area that houses much history, culture and significance within its ancient walls. First, we visited the Christian Quarter (home to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre).

When we arrived at the Church of the Holy Sepulchre the prominently displayed presence of a bomb disposal container was a reminder that we were indeed in a land that has seen countless violent threats for generations. 

While in the Christian Quarter we were also able to go inside the area where many families live. Our tour guide was raised in this environment and was able to deftly navigate the alleys and corridors to take us 'behind the scenes' where children's toys were scattered and clothing was on the line--life amidst the historical stones.

As we entered the Muslim Quarter there was an energy shift. It was full of people and markets overflowing with rich colors and smells. We sampled delicious olives--and candy!

From Old Jerusalem, we traveled a short distance to the Garden of Gethsemane. Here we learned that the name Gethsemane is derived from the words for "olive press." as out tour guide Andre pointed out "when we are pressed, we pray." 

I had been warned the small size of this garden would surprise me. What I did not expect was the overt tourism on display as crowds encircled this small fenced in plot. As dozens and their tour guides bustled around the lot as if it were an exhibit on display, it was difficult to find prayerful stillness. It was a stark contrast to the peaceful, lush, quiet, personal place of reflection I had envisioned. However, we were delighted to find that just across the street was a private section surrounded by stone walls, available for entrance and reflection. Our group gained admittance and was able to have a short service of praise and worship before scattering around the garden to pray in this serene place. 

While the olive trees we sat under and against are not 2000 years old, they have been carbon dated as some of the oldest ever discovered--over 1000 years old! They are likely descendants of the shoots of the original trees that grew in this area. 

My personal faith doesn't lead me to conclude anything magical happened simply by praying in this place. Nevertheless, it was powerful to envelop myself in the sights, sounds, and context of Jesus' prayer vigil here before he was handed over to the authorities for crucifixion. I was challenged anew to consider the depth of His surrender and the eternal implications (and daily call) in my own life and I was truly filled with purposeful peace.

Our afternoon consisted of a solemn visit to the Holocaust Museum. We discovered after we exited that the age restriction for the museum was 16 years and up--but the kids handled it with remarkable maturity. My husband wisely paced our one hour visit so that the first 50 minutes were spent understanding the build up/causes of the Holocaust. We rushed through the graphic portions of the exhibits, but lingered in sections that focused on the survivor stories. We solemnly attempted to absorb this horrible period in World History. Although we came to the Holy Land to see the places, God continued to remind me of all we could learn from its people.

We returned the Jewish Quarter at night to explore the underground tunnels and pray at the Western Wall. Perhaps it was because of the lights on the wall against the darkness and the prominent Israeli flag--but standing in the prayer plaza was a surreal experience. 

Women did not have to cover their heads, but men did. Apparently, any head covering will do, so while Parker and big Ryland had to don yarmulkes RyGuy's Northface baseball camp was deemed perfectly acceptable.

There was a divider in the prayer plaza that sorted women to the right and men to the left--as the two genders were not permitted to pray together at the wall. Kate and I entered the women's area clutching small slips of paper with our prayer requests to leave there between the stones. 

As we took our turn praying here, the spot believed to be the closest one can get to the Temple Mount, we were surrounded by devoutly religious people experiencing the Wall in different, demonstrative ways. As many around us rocked, cried, prayed and covered their faces with holy texts, I felt a bit uncertain. I looked over at Kate who seemed to be having the same uneasiness. As we walked away I realized it was because I didn't feel I had to travel across the world to a stone wall to feel like the Lord heard more prayers. I rejoiced that Jesus tore down the wall between us and God so we can speak to Him with the same intimacy in our bathroom shower in Georgia as at this historical place. 

After a 13 hour day of touring, we returned to our hotel this night with MUCH to process!

Our Holy Land Experience: West Bank, Palestine and Jacob's Well

Monday we left our hotel in Tiberius and journeyed to the West Bank of Palestine. I confess prior to this trip, my preconceived notions about Palestinians was almost entirely based on the media images of angry young men with headscarfs shouting and tossing objects in protest to the boundary lines with Israel.

As we journeyed through the checkpoint (which was a non-event in our tour bus) the reality of the landscape was quite different than I expected.

We were scheduled to visit a group of Palestinian Christians in a small village, so our drive took us through a very agrarian area. Rolling green hills were dotted with crops of strawberries and shepherds tending their flocks.

Palestine did seem much simpler, like a step back in time, cut off from many of the modern advances in infrastructure.
The people who greeted us (both planned and those we encountered as we walked through the village) were kind and welcoming. We had to quickly switch gears from the Hebrew words and phrases we were using in Israel to Arabic words and phrases in this area, especially when one of my children had an urgent need for a bathroom.

A local family hosted our entire group of 26 on the porch of their modest home for coffee and conversation about their lives. The women and college students spoke to us about the challenges of being a Christian in Palestine-- they are minorities--making up only 1-2% of the population. Their joy and courage were palpable and left quite an impression upon me.

Our time together concluded with a delicious lunch and a fresh perspective on the subsets of real people behind sweeping headlines and assumptions. One of the challenges our tour guide, Andre, had issued at the beginning of our journey was to experience not just the ancient stones of the Middle East, but the 'living stones' as well. I felt as if this day had been a powerful experience in that regard.

Our next stop was Jacob's Well (within the walls of an Eastern Orthodox monastery).  It is believed to be the place where Jesus encountered the Samaritan Woman at the well. (See John 4.)

Photos were not allowed inside, but I borrowed this one from google images for context. The well is still functioning after all these years! We were able to lower the pail and retrieve water--135 feet down. Outside we met these boys selling olive oil soaps to the Westerners in the big tour bus for "one dolla, one dolla."

From here we traveled to Mount Zion, where we would spend the next three nights with a glorious view of Jerusalem. 

Shalom indeed.