A Prayer of Release

A friend sent this to me recently and I have re-read it daily. I decided to record it here for easy access (and in case it blesses anybody else!) I tried to find a source, and it appears it was taken from a 30-year-old book called Prayer Portions by Sylvia Gunter.  What a reminder that through the decades humans have struggled with the same root desires! 

The person who texted it to me referred to it as a Declaration of Release. Even the title convicts me to loosen my grip in faith and trust. May we trust the Lord to keep that which we already committed Him at the time of their baptism/dedication! ("...I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day." 2 Timothy 1:12)

"Because Jesus Christ is my Lord, 

I free you from my anxiety, fears, and control.

I trust the Holy Spirit to lead you and show you the way that is right for you, the way of love, joy, peace, and all that salvation includes. 

I place you at God’s throne of grace. 

I cannot force my will on you. 

I cannot live your life for you. 

I give you to God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

As much as I love you, God loves you more. 

Your life today is totally in His hands, and I trust Him with it. 

I release you from my expectations, I place you on open palms to the Lord. 

I give you my blessings. 

I let you go, in His love." 

It is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose. Being confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus (Phi 2:13, 1:6).

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

Counting the Cost

I am entering the hard phase of placement with this sweet little person. 
Four months in. 
Bonded. 
Defenses down and true heart coming through--trauma and all. 
Sweetest "I lub you, Mama." whispered, and even sometimes shouted at me.
Exhausting, sleepless nights thanks to night terrors.
Training up someone else's child.
"Hold me, please" with the most precious look of love, trust and outstretched arms. 
Precious giggles.
The wonder of watching her learn to count.
The pain of hearing her describe scary memories. 
Investing in her bio parents--believing in them, cheering for their health and restoration.
Gambling all our hearts on their comeback.

I am tired.
I am hopeful.
I am a wee bit nervous.

And then, yesterday, I listened for the first time to the lyrics of a song I have owned for over a year.
It has played in the background countless times, but at just the right time, I actually heard it. 

I'm saying yes to You
And no to my desires
I'll leave myself behind
And follow You
I'll walk the narrow road
'cause it leads me to You
I'll fall but grace
Will pick me up again
I've counted up the cost.
Oh, I've counted up the cost.
Yes, I've counted up the cost
And You are worth it.
I do not need safety
As much as I need You.
You're dangerous
But, Lord, You're beautiful.
I'll chase You through the pain.
I'll carry my cross
'cause real love
Is not afraid to bleed.
Jesus, Take my all.
Take my everything.
I've counted up the cost
And You're worth everything.

-The Cost, Rend Collective

I have counted up the cost and He is worth it.
This means loving the people He loves are worth it.
Whether it is the child who isn't sleeping from 11pm-3am or the difficult adults in my life. Stretching, swallowing my pride, going out of my way is worth it.

I am reminded of one of my favorite sections of Bob Goff's book, Everybody Always: 

"Obeying is costly because it’s uncomfortable. It makes me grow one decision and one discussion at a time. It makes me put away my pride. These are the kinds of decisions that aren’t made once for a lifetime; they’re made thirty seconds at a time.”

“What I’ve been doing with my faith is this: instead of saying I’m going to believe in Jesus for my whole life, I’ve been trying to actually obey Jesus for thirty seconds at a time."

I won't do it perfectly.
"I'll fall but grace will pick me up again."

But what about my heart?
"I do not need safety as much as I need You."

This seems like it might get messy.
"Real love is not afraid to bleed."

I am reminded of one of my favorite sections of Bob Goff's book, Everybody Always: 

"Obeying is costly because it’s uncomfortable. It makes me grow one decision and one discussion at a time. It makes me put away my pride. These are the kinds of decisions that aren’t made once for a lifetime; they’re made thirty seconds at a time.”

Earlier he said, “What I’ve been doing with my faith is this: instead of saying I’m going to believe in Jesus for my whole life, I’ve been trying to actually obey Jesus for thirty seconds at a time."

"T Minus" Parenting

A couple of years ago there was a push towards a countdown/legacy app to remind parents how little time they had remaining with children living in their home. I dutifully typed in the triplets' high school graduation month and the numbers still seemed high and far away.

As our children have celebrated birthdays and completed grades, I am beginning to hear the clock tick. There are milestones happening that receive far less press than the big ones like driving and graduations, yet mark time in their own striking way.

Dropping off in front of the grocery store to go buy a few things while I stay in the car, allowing them to go to the movies or a pizza place with friends and no adult, giving them a debit card with their name on it to learn to manage money, letting them walk to a friend's house in the neighborhood or go play a round of golf without a chaperone.

Step by step my young teens are becoming more comfortable in their independence. I am giving them more responsibility and they are (mostly) rising to the occasion. Of course, they stumble and fall as any child does when learning to walk, but we are doing it. Growth, however awkward and sometimes cringe-inducing and painful, is happening. And suddenly young adulthood doesn't seem so far away.

This Summer I watched several close friends launch their children into college and it has struck a much more personal chord. The reality of sending my people (ALL AT ONCE) out into the world in less than 5 years is becoming far more real.

In my weakness, I have allowed this countdown mentality to infuse an anxiousness into my parenting. A few accusing phrases bounce around my head (and occasionally squeeze their way out of my mouth.)

Time is ticking. 
They are 14 years old...they will be driving a piece of heavy machinery on roads with other people in less than a year. 
It is time to outgrow (insert childish behaviors here).
We have so much work left to do!
I can't send a kid to college that still (insert bad habit here) or doesn't know how to (insert responsible action here).
Their future roommate/wife/inlaws/boss won't believe good parents didn't work this out in childhood.
We have got to work on (insert list here that grows exponentially the more anxious I feel)

As I entertain these accusations, I start parenting out of fear (of what will happen if they aren't PERFECT when I launch them) and pride (what people will think of me).

Unfortunately, when I realize it is happening and start trying to talk myself down, I feel ashamed and overwhelmed. I don't like those feelings so I somewhat lighten up. Habits persist. The cycle starts all over again.

As I am honest about these feelings, the Lord is faithful to remind me that THEY ARE HIS. HE has plans for them--and while my role is significant, HE is their creator, savior, sustainer, sanctifier and the ultimate author of their stories. The point is for their lives to reflect God's glory, not mine.

"It is not all on you. You are significant in your kids' lives, but God is sovereign."
-Jeannie Cunnion, Mom Set Free

So, I plugged the date in and discovered I have 244 weeks until graduation...89 weeks until they are independently driving cars...and then I let out a large exhale of surrender. God willing, their stories will stretch far beyond those dates even as my role continues to shift within them.

God is growing them and I am grateful for the front row seat to watch it all unfold. Cheering, correcting, consoling, cringing...but holding on to the faith that they were all His idea--and He picked me to be their Mom for all the sanctification it would bring on both sides!

They are His. I am His. I believe that and therefore, I am recommitting myself to parenting accordingly.

"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

January 9-15, 2018

"Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." 
Psalm 90:12

I am continuing my life snapshots and weekly wrap-ups with observations and lessons learned from the first two weeks of 2018. This exercise is taking some of the pressure off my rusty writing legs and prompting me to seek God the lessons of my days. Don't expect fully formed thoughts...

January 9
On these cold Winter days, I have taken to sitting in my car in the driveway or a bit longer once I arrive home (especially during the day when I am alone.) The heated seats in my Suburban are so toasty, it is hard to leave. I refer to it as my home office. This afternoon I paid particular attention to the hydrangea bushes along my front drive. They are lush and productive and stunning when in bloom--but right now they look like dead sticks. If I didn't know how glorious they are in Spring and Summer, I would did them up and throw them out...but I have seen their potential and know they are just dormant now. A powerful metaphor for me...dormant does not equal dead. Things and people have seasons. Don't judge them by a snapshot from only one.

January 10 
"Expose and dismantle the faithless, graceless ways we parent, Father. Free us from our overbearing and under-believing ways. Forgive us for being more anxious than loving--more likely to nag or brag without ceasing than pray and trust without ceasing." -Scotty Ward Smith

Just loved this quote today.

January 11 
Parker participated in (and took 2nd place) at the school-wide Spelling Bee. For a child that struggles with anxiety, it is a big deal to put himself out there in such a high stakes, visible way in front of his peers. Next stop, Round One of State!

January 12 
Participated in TBRI training for the third time in three years. This trauma-informed training on how to love kids from hard places well is excellent. The first year I attended we had just gone through our first failed foster placement and I felt sick and ashamed through many of the lectures. I wished desperately I had known better how to handle LuLu.

The second year, some of my guilt and shame were gone and I was able to hear more from the standpoint of "when we know better we do better." I was also able to learn tips and tricks that could improve my parenting of my own children who have some sensory issues as a result of a traumatic pregnancy and NICU stay.

This third time, I couldn't help praying constantly for the next child or children in our home as we have tentatively set a date to re-open our home April 1.

January 13 
Area wrestling tournament. Parker was sick and could not compete and Ryland wasn't able to drop pounds to make weight--fine by the Mama! Today I appreciated what an encourager and team player Ryland is. He stayed at the tourney for 8 hours and cheered his teammates on with so much enthusiasm he was hoarse. I delighted in his back patting and genuine support of his teammates. He's the guy you want in your corner.

January 14 
Driving lessons at the farm. How can it be that my kiddos will have learners' permits in 16 months??!!

January 15 
Haley, our 14 year old chocolate lab, lost use of her back legs. She now has to be carried to go to the bathroom or get food and water. I am not ready to write all about this yet except that the conversations with my children were meaningful and important. There is no easy way to do hard things because hard things are hard.

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.

My Facebook Break-Up

Six weeks ago I had a 24 hour bug--nothing serious, just the kind of viral illness that makes you feel lethargic and causes your head hurt when you move. It was a cold late December day so I sat on the sofa in front of the fire and surfed television and the Internet all day. I gorged on media until I was overstuffed.

All that free time with my face in a screen had led me down all sorts of rabbit trails "checking on" people on the fringes of my real everyday life--estranged family, friends I have fallen out of touch with, young women from hard places I have mentored in the past. I peeked into the tinted window of their lives social media allowed and was left feeling sick. I was deeply concerned by some of the struggles I saw in their pictures and posts, but recognized much of that was based on assumptions and filling in gaps between what they said and what I interpreted. I had a handful of people I wanted to reach out to and try to re-engage, but couldn't decide if peeking in their windows gave me a right to be heard.  I felt frustrated and empty.

I woke up the next morning with what I can only describe as a social media hangover. Never had the truth that social media is not the same as real life two-way, person-to-person relationships been more clear to me. I realized I was spending lots of time "peeking in" on people that could have been used to truly enter in with people God had put in my everyday real life.

In one overwhelming moment of clarity, I knew it was time to deactivate my Facebook account. I didn't think it through, I simply obeyed the fire in my belly--knowing deactivation doesn't have to be forever. When and if I feel led to go back, all my info, years of posts and accumulated contacts will still be there. I kept my messenger account so I can still reach out to folks whose contact info I do not otherwise have saved in my phone. It felt scary but right.

I am absolutely NOT a Facebook hater. Frankly, for years I defended it to my friends who had previously defected. I truly felt called there to be salt and light--to post blog entries, uplifting articles, and self-deprecating humor. It was a ministry of sorts. But in the same way I felt a sense of purpose in staying, I suddenly felt peace and freedom in leaving.

I haven't left every media...my Instagram (photos) and Twitter (articles) activity is still high. I don't know that my Facebook departure is forever. But for this season it is a very good thing. God has used the break to teach me a lot.

When I have the urge to "check on" people or connect, I text, e-mail, message or call the person...often with a simple, "Have you on my heart," "praying for you," or direct question like, "how are you?" The response is all the confirmation I need that humans long for personal, meaningful offline connection.

When I read something that moves me I try to text or email it to the specific people God leads me to share it with--or blanket ones go on twitter. :-) This, too, has caused me to pause and remember the specific issues real people in my life are walking through. My relationships while fewer, are so much richer.

And all these difficult, hotly debated political issues...those conversations are so much more productive, informative and helpful over coffee, a Bible or a meal. Seriously.

Honestly, I've re-activated my account a handful of times--and on each occasion, it has lasted less than 5 minutes. It is as if my relational tastebuds have changed. I am hungry now for fewer surface announcements and headlines and more meaningful, personal contact with people seeking to understand and be understood. 

Yesterday, I listened to a wonderful talk Jill Briscoe delivered at If Gathering and it seemed to reiterate the same message. 

"The place between your own two feet at any given time, that's your mission field." -Jill Briscoe

This is the call. Stop scanning for the next best thing. Look right here in front of you. The place where God has planted your two feet is your ministry. We are to be present here--with THESE people--the ones in your home, workplace, grocery store, church, neighborhood, city, the ones whose paths He has sovereignly ordained to intersect your yours. 

"Go where you are sent. Stay where you are put. Give what you've got until you are done." -Jill Briscoe

Maybe in your season and station, social media is a part of your call. Maybe it isn't. But as for me, I am Facebook free and it is very good.

A Bike Grease Gospel

Last week I started Ann Voskamp's newest book, The Broken Way. As is my preference, I was listening on Audible during my solo car time and while performing otherwise mindless chores around the house. When I realized I had already clipped and noted 6-7 things in the first three chapters, I pressed pause until I could get a physical copy to mark up. My daily household chores now have me listening with the hardcover book and a pen nearby.

In the book, Ann describes how she started drawing a small cross on her wrist in ink every day as a reminder to die daily to self as Christ laid down his own life for us. I did it one morning last week and was surprised to find how often during the day that small inky cross served as a touchstone, perspective shift, and a Gospel reminder. While I am not prone to ritual, something about this practice really resonated with me.

For the last 7-8 days I have taken a moment in the morning to quietly re-commit myself to the Lord and then scribbled a rudimentary cross--two lines across my veiny wrist as a simple act of remembrance.

Tuesday morning I rose earlier than usual to prepare for the day. We were all dragging a bit as a result of being up late for Trick or Treating and my husband coming, going and taking phone calls into the wee hours with call night responsibilities. My children had projects due, presentations to make, and I had a couple of important events scheduled. After dropping them at school I had only 25 minutes to regroup before a coffee with a new foster parent who was struggling and in need of a listening ear. Immediately following that meeting I was leading a small group Bible study in my home before a friend was coming by to help me with another project.

Just as I walked back in the house to breathe, mark my wrist and shift into adult/ministry mode, I received a call from the school. On the other end of the line was my Kate.
"Mom, I forgot I needed my bike today. Could you bring it?"

Kate is a very responsible 12-year-old who packs her own gear, thinks ahead and never makes these rescue phone calls. This was not really a judgment call about teaching her a lesson, it was about me.

My mind flooded with all the important things I had to do. I glanced at the clock and did some quick math. I could rush and make it happen. But my attitude was poor as I was already in 'real clothes' and did not want to deal with putting a cumbersome rack on my car and getting filthy as I loaded a dirty mountain bike.

I grumbled internally as a decided to skip the rack and manhandle the bike into the back of my Suburban. I had to climb around inside, lowering seats and do some pushing and pulling to make it happen. One of the tires left a 3-inch black scuff on my beige interior. I sighed in annoyance.

Hopping in the SUV I cranked the ignition with my right hand and noticed there was no cross on my upturned wrist. I had intended to do that during my precious few minutes of quiet regrouping. Instead, I was wrestling a dirty bike so my child could participate in a special mountain biking elective.

As I put the car in reverse and turned the steering wheel sharply to the left I saw it. Just as my right wrist was clean, my left wrist bore dark marks--not the inky cross I have taken to wearing, but dark smudges of bike grease.

I couldn't help but chuckle. And immediately a quote from Chapter Five came to mind:

"Love gives, and huge acts to try to make someone happy don't make anyone as hugely happy as simply doing small acts to make someone feel loved. It's strange how that is, everybody wants to change the world, but nobody wants to do the small thing that makes just one person feel loved."
-Ann Voskamp

And there is was--truth come to life.

I left that bike grease there on my wrist all day. I didn't need to draw one in ink, because God had brought me a real life imprint to remind me that we don't get to pick the neat, planned acts of love. Daily surrender requires being available for the smaller, messier, more inconvenient ones. Truly, these moments are the ones that matter most.

I made those two planned appointments--serving orphans and Bible study (about walking in love, no less)--but delivering that greasy bike was undoubtably the most important thing I did all day.

Sunshine and Sabbath

I never intended to take such a long break from writing. But, I have been quiet on purpose.


Three weeks ago today our foster daughters were adopted (along with their siblings--a total of five children under 12) by one of their family members. We have all been in an adjustment period. I have not had a chance to speak with the girls yet, I am respecting the wishes of their adoptive parent to give them time and space. I am praying God will intervene in their hearts and assure them how truly, deeply and forver loved they are by us--even though we cannot tell them ourselves.

We are in a Sabbath season, a recovery mode for our home and hearts. Our family of five has bounced back sweetly to prior routines but with an altered rhythm. We are not the same people we were 17 months ago. And that is good.

For most of my 42 years the tendency of my flesh and my emotions is to rush to judgment quickly. I like to handle things, wrap them up in a tidy bow and move on. It's not just me. Our busy world loves memes, sound bites, t-shirt statements and bumper stickers. 

The older I get the more realize that most of life is not just a simple narrative. I want it to be so...a quick adage at the end of every challenge that I can walk away with like a badge proving I've conquered that lesson. I crave a headline of redemptive meaning to every troubling scenario-- immediately.The last year or so of life has taught the importance of letting life's lessons simmer. I am learning to get comfortable with not having an answer or simply stated conclusion. I randonly came across a post I wrote 6 1/2 years ago with this same theme, an ironic reminder of just how long some life lessons perculate.  


So, even though I'm not very productive as a writer these days. I am still here. 


One day I will probably share more about the day the girls left and all the conflicting emotions of our 17 month journey with their family, but not yet. The story is still in progress and I can't even clearly identify the main theme--except maybe this: Don't rush it. Have faith. Let Him work. Be still and know. 


The mental picture I have of my heart and soul is sitting in an adirondack chair in the crisp Fall sunshine. Eyes closed, head back, feeling and listening but not rushing to declare any conclusions or lessons just yet. I am reading, thinking, living, spending a lot of time in the Word...basking in all of it. It feels like the healthy thing to do.

"When God intervenes and we get a chance to know we're blessed and to feel blessed, nothing is more appropriate than seizing the happy moment...Even if all we do is lean our heads back in the sunshine of our soul's Sabbath and take a minute to feel the glad emotion, it is meant by God to be medicine for our weary souls." -from Esther: It's Tough Being a Woman by Beth Moore (page 194)

We are in a season of sunshine Sabbath for our souls and it is full of peace that transcends understanding. God IS good and it IS well. 

Love in the Trenches

I have a back-to-school tradition of hibernating...the twitchiness from tasks left undone that plagued the last month of Summer is addressed by manic sorting, organizing and purging. After three weeks and several carloads of garbage bags filled with donations, it finally feels as if I can reengage with the broader world.

 As the dust has begun to settle from Summer to Fall transition, I have been able to spend time in real conversation with a dozen different Mom friends--the kind where we aren't interrupted every couple of minutes by needs for ice cream, bottom wiping or to be an audience for the latest tumbling or diving board trick. The kind of conversations where we can have unbroken eye contact that sees, hears and feels enough to share what is really going on.

In doing so my heart has been moved by the heaviness that so many in my community carry. As most of my Mom friends are now parenting kids over the age of 12, I have a new understanding of the addage "little people, little problems...big people, big problems."

A friend and I were discussing the difference in our parenting topics now versus 8-10 years ago when she asked if I remembered the her son's trouble in pre-K. "My greatest parenting woe was how to effectively discipline him for sliding into circle time everyday. We had teacher conferences about his baseball slides!"

We laughed and admitted it had appropriately mattered then. It was an entrance into the world of teaching self control and respect for authority. Those same issues are relevant today--they just look so much different.

The coffees, walks, small group conversations, lunches and phone calls I have shared with tween and teen Mamas this month have covered the gamut:
- diagnoses of anxiety and depression and gut wrenching choices about the trade offs of medicating these issues
- behavioral disorders
- teenage dating and sex
- divorce, remarriage, blending kids
- sexting
- bullying and being left out
- hormonal teens that are being truly hurtful to their family
- experimenting with different identities and being heartbroken in the process

These aren't other people's kids. These are young adults whose baptisms I have attended and made pledges to love and help rear. They are the offspring of friends whose marriages I stood up in and committed to support. These are the struggles of families like mine raising people in the world I live in.

It makes my heart ache to hear the painful things so many of my friends are walking through. And this is just in the parenting realm! Add on the additional pressures of marriage, work, finances, extended family, health concerns and it could easily be a recipe for despair.

As a woman in my Bible Study announced succinctly last week: "It is hard to be human."

THIS IS WHY we must stay plugged into our friendships and our faith. This world is broken, but we are not alone.

We must each tap into the truth God has given us in His Word that His Grace is sufficient. His power is made perfect in weakness. He will not leave or forsake us. We need to engage in loving community that reminds each other of these truths when we are tired.

A wise friend told me that regret haunts us with "if only" and anxiety gets us stuck with "what if?"
I believe peace in the Lord asks "what now?"

Foster parenting has taught me much about loving where you are with whatever time you have--no guarantees for tomorrow, but responsibility for what is in front of you now.

“The only opportunity you will ever have to live by faith is in the circumstances you are provided this very day." Eugene Peterson

You are a parent, but the outcome is not all on you.
Your job is to show up faithfully and ask God to answer: "What does love require of me?"
Not tomorrow, not next week, but NOW--in this situation with what I know and what I have, what does LOVE require of me here?
Be present and teachable, one step at a time.
Do the next right thing.
Fueled not by the exhaustible resource of ourselves, but filled by the love of the Lord and the fruit of the Spirit.

I firmly believe God will meet you there, because He is doing it for me with my fosters and my biological children.

It is not a promise of the avoidance of pain, but there IS freedom here.

Over the Waterfall

I have spent the last year of my life tangled up in a myriad of emotions as our life changed by becoming a foster family. As I sought to find footing in this new territory I found my heart colliding with a sticky spider web of complicated feelings: commitment, fatigue, fear, vulnerability, frustration, tenderness, guilt, passion, protectiveness and love.

The most complex emotional terrain, by far, has been the effort to shepherd the hearts in my home--to simultaneously attempt to give our our little girls space to reclaim childhood and be free of the very adult drama that led them here, to protect my marriage from the effects of being disconnected and overextended and to allow my tweens to engage their hearts in the rebuilding of these girls' lives, while leaving lasting impressions on their own. It has been all encompassing. In the midst of all this other work, there hasn't been much time to reflect on my own heart. Lack of time and energy for the task has made my ability to compartmentalize a gift.

Instead of fretting, I have put my head down and tried to simply get it done--this work of loving with my life--keeping everyone alive, clothed, in school and emotionally stable until the next court date.

Like a woman longing to conceive, my emotions rose and fell based on dates on the calendar-except unlike my fertility journey, these dates were about 3 months apart and based on court hearings instead of pregnancy tests.

We've had five court dates in 13 months and the 'finish line' for our girls case gets moved farther out each time. Recently, I was informed of yet another change in the expected timeline (which I am learning is about as reliable as the NORAD Santa tracker in predicting the exact time the man in red will leave gifts under the tree.) While we've become accustomed to days becoming weeks, this new timeline stretched things at least 6 more months.

With this recent news a funny thing happened, the finish line finally got moved so far out of sight it was no longer my focus. I felt lighter because deep in my heart there was a peace that said, "Now you can stop thinking about the ending and just focus on today." (Can I get an Amen?)

This realization brought unexpected sweet relief, because it has allowed me to not feel like I am living out of a temporary emotional suitcase anymore--always on the ready with my "go bag." Taking my eyes off the end has freed me up to unpack some emotional baggage I wasn't fully aware I was carrying and just get comfortable here.

If the predicted timeline holds true, we will have had these girls 12 months and 19 months when it is time to depart. This is a significant chapter of their childhood and my family's life. Self protection is of no avail. It is going to hurt. But, I don't want to live in self-erected towers of preservation built out of deeply rooted fear any more--they are an exhausting, isolating illusion.

“Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid.” -Frederick Buechner

I was talking to a friend yesterday about how much freedom I feel now that I can admit I am the person in the barrel absolutely heading over the waterfall. There is no exit ramp. I am going--so I might as well throw my head back and open my eyes wide. She replied: "You can go mad or go glad, but either way you are going." We laughed a little harder than we probably should have, because life has taught us both the bittersweet truth of that statement.

Right about this same time our 5 year old has started hugging me tightly at random times throughout the day and saying, "I love you soooo much and will miss you when I leave." She's not tearful, just truthful. I hug her back and say, "Me too, but you aren't leaving today so let's fill each other up with love and cuddles until you do." We hug and giggle because this surprisingly simple approach brings us both peace.

We can't control or predict the future, but we can live, love and laugh HERE in the NOW.

As if on cue, I read this devotion from Sarah Young's Jesus Calling last week, "Don't take yourself or your circumstances so seriously. Relax and know that I am God with you.When you desire my will above all else, life becomes much less threatening. Stop trying to monitor my responsibilities--things that are beyond your control. Find freedom by accepting the limits of your domain..."

It is a lesson that extends far beyond our foster care experience into many other aspects of life and relationship. This world is broken. We will get hurt. Go mad or go glad? The choice is yours.

"She is clothed in strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come..." Proverb 31:25

The Myth of Perfect Parenting

As a first time parent 12 years ago, I left few stones unturned in my efforts to parent well. A great deal of research went into what types of bottles, diapers, rash creams, formulas, strollers, cribs, sleep training, detergents to purchase...even what music to play in the nursery. Keenly aware this was likely my one shot at parenting, this type A personality wanted to do well. I didn't think of it as perfectionism...but more so as good stewardship of what I had been entrusted.

Eleven years later as first time foster parents, my pendulum had swung far in the other direction. Of course I still possess a desire to serve well, but my road tested and oft-humbled ego had a much more realistic and practical approach. We will keep the children God brings to us safe--and love them. This was essentially my strategy: Our family is functioning pretty well...these children will just get on board. Clearly it will be better than the difficult circumstances from which they have come. In its own way, this too, felt like stewardship.

As time has built bonds with these girls and my bio children have morphed into full-fledged tweens, I have found myself somewhere in the middle of these two extremes. Needs of the children have come to light over time. I have tried to dig in and meet each where they are and in the process found myself frustrated, exhausted and inconsistent. Being pushed to the limits of self has led me at times to take on a "whack a mole" approach--dealing with squeaky wheels and burning bushes. This from the girl who has a written family vision statement... How God must laugh!

Through this process I have realized that 'perfectly' parenting each of my current five is impossible. I am drinking from a fire hose. There is just not enough time in the day, energy in my body or insight in my mind and heart to give them all a perfect childhood. I am not every referring to Pinterest worthy meals, pony rides and perfect braids...I gave up on that long ago. Some days I struggle to cover basic table manners and homework time--much less reach their hearts and combat the lies that already plague each of them to some degree.

My flesh has failed. I cannot do this with the excellence I desire.

This realization was simultaneously freeing and deep-sigh inducing.
Am I in over my head?
Am I doing more damage to these kids than good?
What were we thinking signing up to take on more when we already had our hands full with three?
Were we obedient or arrogant?

As I confessed all this to God over the course of a few weeks of somewhat hand-wringing prayer, He sent me perspective-shifting and peace-bringing truth.

"Today, we groan as we serve God, because we know all too well our handicaps and blemishes, but one day we shall serve Him perfectly!" Warren Wiersbe

And because that quote came from a study I am currently doing on the book of Revelation, it led to a revelation of my own: We simply cannot serve perfectly this side of heaven.

Furthermore, these people I have been subconsciously trying to polish up and perfect are children...little, immature but growing people. The point of childhood is to train them up no doubt, but we are preparing to launch them into the world as adults--not place them in museums as flawless specimens. They are each unique works of art, full of imperfection and quirks.

As I have received calls from teachers about issues in need of addressing (in bios and fosters), sat across from psychologists and engaged in conferences with faculty and my husband I have had to giggle that 'perfecting' a child ever crossed my mind. After all, at 41 I am more aware of my own inadequacies, weaknesses and vulnerabilities than ever. We all have a long way to go--and this is the journey of life.

I am not for throwing in the towel and settling for mediocrity...but I am a huge fan of perspective. Stop. Breathe. Laugh. Savor. Coach. Love. And agree that the only way to make it through this parenting gig with our sanity and our faith is to take it all one grace-filled day at a time.

Regardless of how the current circumstances line up with my strategy or plan, "THIS is the day the Lord has made, I will rejoice and be glad in it." Psalm 118 NASB

Preparing to be a Middle School Mom

As the famously dreaded middle school years approach for our triplets, I have tried to have my eyes open to what this new chapter will require of me. Since we haven't officially begun, it is safe to say I am now the most knowledgeable I will ever feel about this subject. ;-) I decided I needed to go ahead and write while I still know everything.

No doubt, I will review this post three years from now with chuckles, but I also believe there is a gift of perspective from outside that often gets distorted by our own fears and rationalizations once we are in the middle.

Here are a few (perhaps naive, but hopeful) notes to myself as I become a "Middle School Mom."

1- It is time to start taking my prayer game seriously. In recent weeks, I have been inspired by Priscilla Shirer's book, Fervent. We, as parents, and our children are up for far more of a fight than we fully understand as we enter the adolescent years. There is truly a war raging for our children's hearts, passions and loyalties. They are bombarded at every turn via media and marketing in addition to traditional peer pressure. We cannot prepare them for every specific scenario--but we can invest in their hearts and bathe them in prayer.

Additionally, quiet time is essential to keeping me centered, grounded and focused on what matters. When exhausted, not-yet-mature, hormonal people come home I want it to be to a Mama that is prayed up and ready to receive.

2- Clear my plate a bit to make space to be available. One thing that has already starting to happen is the tendency for my kids to come home and 'disappear' for a bit. Because we are doing this adolescence thing three different ways simultaneously, I can see that it takes on many forms. I have one that goes straight to her room to draw, read, make origami, listen to music or otherwise zone out. I have another that grabs a ball or looks for a neighbor to play with and yet another that turns to screens.

The one thing they have in common is their decompressing frequently doesn't start with coming to me. I want to give my preteens space for self care and rest, but I am finding that if I go to them after a few minutes, they generally open up and talk.

My almost twelve year olds aren't always asking for me anymore, but I am finding that they sure don't seem to mind that I am here. Even when friends are over, being a room or two away seems to be a great freedom/security combo.

In those increasingly rare moments when they do initiate a conversation about issues in their world, I want to be able to press pause on what I am doing and be physically and emotionally there. I am reordering my day so that, when possible, the most pressing things are handled while the kids are in school--freeing me up for more flexibility in the time they are home.

3- To stay the adult and not get sucked in to the drama that accompanies hormones.
I probably should just leave that sentence there and walk away.

Kids are surrounded by peers all day long. They do not need a 41 year old woman rolling around in the mud with them when they get home and share hurtful or hard things. Even if I do have personal feelings about a kid that has wounded one of mine, my job is to stay above the fray.

I am to be rooted, rested and ready to guide my children through the turbulent waters with maturity--not jump in and start insulting another child or their family life to assuage my offspring's hurt feelings.

At the end of the day, these are children--even the hurtful ones--learning how to navigate relationships in this big world. I pray when the shoe is on the other foot (because it undoubtedly will be at some point) the person we offend's Mama will be modeling grace and understanding for their child in return.

Frankly, extending that same grace to the other Mamas in the midst of this season isn't such a bad idea either. Most of us are figuring this out as we go, stumbling a bit even with the best of intentions.

4- To love them fiercely (which includes boldly speaking the truth to them)
As long as I can remember we have told our children that we are FOR them. Same team. Biggest fans.
It is a mantra in our marriage as well: "We are on the same team."

But being on the same team does not mean refusing to see and discuss flaws or potential pitfalls. Truly loving our children involves pointing out the areas where we see they are at risk of going off the rails. Perpetuating a false sense of perfection is not a healthy long term strategy.

Quality time and relationship build the strong foundation for earning the right to be heard on these matters. We've had quite a few conversations that start with "because we love you, we need to address this."

I really believe foundation is everything.

"It is easier to build strong children than to fix broken men."
-Frederick Douglass

5- To not parent in a vacuum.
The Lord powerfully used many families in my adolescence to mold and shape me in addition to the one I was born into. Perhaps that is why I feel so strongly about this point.

Parenting my children well means investing in the lives of their friends and classmates too. One of the most disappointing things about our early foray into middle school is watching the scarcity principle begin to rear its ugly head. It is, of course, human nature/survival instinct to make sure our pack is OK before we think about others, but I believe God calls us to more.

Not only is it the right thing to be concerned with more than just "us," it is wise. One of the best things I can do for the growth and health of my children is to remember that their community is shaping them. A rising tide lifts all boats.

This means volunteering at school when we can, supporting the children's/youth ministries that are pouring truth in their life, cheering for peers and classmates whose interests and accomplishments may or may not coincide with theirs, loving those I am co-parenting with and seeking to support them as their village.

It is a travesty when parents become all consumed in making sure their child gets their share to the detriment of others around them--not so we can all be the same, but so everyone has room to grow and blossom. We don't raise kids in a vacuum. Healthy adults have the fingerprints of lots of people and experiences throughout their life.

I know I am just starting this journey so I submit these thoughts with great humility. I am under no illusions that it won't come with bumps, bruises and lessons learned the hard way--but starting with a strategy certainly can't hurt!

Making Room (especially when it feels like there is none)

Last week I mailed out Christmas cards. (Which for the record were only really early because we were housebound for a solid week with sick children during Thanksgiving.)

After contemplating how to accurately represent Christmas with a temporarily blended family, we settled on a comical approach which caught up out-of-town, non-facebook friends on our expansion and ended with "there is truly no more room at the inn--or in the Suburban."

As my phone was still dinging with text messages from friends who had received the clever card, I got a call--a time sensitive request to host the youngest sibling of my two current foster daughters for a bit. My statement that we were 'full' was being put to the test.

Ya'll. I already have FIVE kids under 12 and a very busy husband during his most stressful month of the year. (People prefer to have elective surgery when they've met their deductible/before plans change January 1/with the holiday vacation to recover.) School is about to be out for two weeks. Kids are getting hyped up on Christmas. Basketball has started. I have two kids who are still running fevers and we just had to deal with lice.

After seven months of foster parenting, we were finally in a rhythm and routine with our current load and were now being asked to consider a four year old.

I cried.

I called my husband. We sat in silence. We wondered what in the world God was up to. We talked with our bio kids who had very mixed responses. We counted the cost. We prayed. Then we slept on it (although it was a restless night of little sleep.) There was a long list of defensible reasons to say no. But when we woke up, we knew what we were supposed to do.

“It is true that God may have called you to be exactly where you are. But, it is absolutely vital to grasp that he didn’t call you there so you could settle in and live your life in comfort and superficial peace.” 
― Francis Chan, Forgotten God: Reversing Our Tragic Neglect of the Holy Spirit

We didn't feel brave or particularly qualified, but Friday, with the help of our amazing supportive friends, a bed was moved in, our pantry was filled, clothing was gathered, we were covered in prayer as we welcomed a precious little firecracker to our chaos.

There are some truly incredible, almost unbelievable, threads that God has woven together in the last few days--complete and total confirmation that this was right. If I am ever able to really tell the whole story it will blow you away. For privacy reasons I cannot share any details--which is torturous for a communicator like me--but I will never forget.

As I asked God how I could tell this story I felt like He told me that sometimes the details are just for the person living the story. I was reminded of a time in the Bible when Jesus actually requested the person He healed NOT tell anyone. He is a God of detail--but my details aren't particularly relevant to your situation. What does matter is that He sees. He knows. He cares. And, most importantly, He is at work in His time.

Another lesson I am learning from this particular situation is that we didn't get our signs and confirmations until AFTER we stepped out in faith. We had to literally step out into what felt like a blind freefall before we felt Him catch us. It is the scariest decision I have made in a long time. But like Peter stepping out of the boat, you don't know the Lord is trustworthy until you really have to trust.

And make no mistake, this is still CRAZY. The laundry for 8. The school stuff for 6. The meals for 8. Oh my word, at the shoes and socks! Meshing these personalities. Trying to connect with every little (and big) heart. It is difficult, but it is happening. I feel like God is making time and space in miraculous ways.

God doesn't promise that His path will be easy, only that He will not leave us. Friday I was a deer caught in headlights as we anticipated her arrival and this weekend it shifted to a hamster running full force on a wheel, but the girls are overjoyed to be together and I absolutely feel God's presence. Peace that transcends understanding is truly guarding my heart.

I am tired, but I do not doubt that this is what we were called to do in this season and this particular situation. His grace is sufficient. I can say this with confidence, because I am living in the middle of it.

“But God doesn't call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn't come through.” 
― Francis Chan, Crazy Love: Overwhelmed by a Relentless God

There are so many kids.
Three car seats and boosters.
Nails to trim, bellies to fill, details to remember...
Our whole family cannot even ride in one car together anymore.
It's noisy.
Big kids stay up late and little ones get up early.
We have Playdoh, Frozen and craft supplies all over the house again.
There are lots of tights and giggles.
Even more drama and tattling.

But, wow, at the growth, the stretching and the peace.

And the story God is writing isn't even close to being over.

Sometimes God Uses Sharpies

Last week as I was double checking bathrooms around the house in preparation for Thanksgiving company, I noticed some new art work had been added to a powder room wall. Above the toilet paper roll on my white plank walls was a nickel sized smiley face hand drawn in black Sharpie. (Yes, I audibly groaned when I saw it.)

I knew this was a new installation as it was in a room I frequent. Putting on my best Columbo persona I handed each of the children a piece of paper and asked them to draw a smiley face for me "for a project I am working on." There was a fairly close match, but not exact--and fearing the relational damage from a false accusation I decided to go a different route.

One by one I called each of our five into the powder room, pointed to the vandalism and asked if they knew anything about how it got there. Each child emphatically denied involvement--the littlest two with tears.

I assured them that neither Daddy nor I had drawn on the wall and therefore someone must be withholding the truth. After more fierce denials, I assigned a small section of wall in the powder room and adjacent hall to each of the children and put them to work for a couple of minutes with Magic Erasers. Still, no one backed down from their insistence of innocence.

Over the next couple of days I questioned each child again in quiet one-on-one moments, reminding them that even if I never found out the offender would know in their heart that they had been untruthful--and in the end that was a greater offense than the original drawing.

I had a strong suspicion about the identity of the mysterious artist, but frustratingly, I had no real proof.

I cannot bear lying--and I honestly struggle with a strong desire to 'bust' people. My pride gets eaten alive by the thought of being played for a fool. Yet, something in me felt an unusual pull to wait this one out. Only by the grace of God (and the distraction of a great deal of illness among our brood during the break) I let it go. I cannot emphasize enough how out of character this is for me.

Fast forward to last night--six days after the offense--as I was alone in the girls' room putting away laundry, quite unexpectedly, I heard a humble voice.
"Mommy, can I talk to you?"

"Sure," I said, putting down my stack and noticing the fidgeting hands and the downcast eyes.

Then came the run-on sentence, "I need to tell you something and I know you are going to be mad and I am going to get in trouble, because I told a lie."

Before I could say anything she took a deep breath and exhaled her confession. "I did it. I drew on that wall and I was just so afraid that I was going to get in trouble that I didn't want to tell you, but my stomach has been hurting and I just feel sad when I talk to you and I am tired of feeling that way."

I sat down in a nearby chair, taking in the gravity of this moment and the lesson. Learning how gross it is to live in lies and how freeing it is to walk in truth is a rite of passage for most people--but for this child, considering her struggles, her history, her bent...this was HUGE.

So I employed my favorite parenting technique--the internal "whoa!" followed by a quickly breathed prayer for wisdom. And even though my flesh really, really wanted to reply with "I knew you did it" my Spirit prompted me to wrap her up in a hug.

She sobbed her apology into my chest and I could feel her bracing herself, waiting for the punishment to be assigned.

I asked her how it felt to carry that lie around for days and she sputtered "terrible." I asked how it felt to come clean and she muttered, "better."

I commended her for the bravery it took to bring this all back up and confess. I implored her to always remember the difference in those two feelings--guilt and repentance. We talked briefly about truth and trust. I made it very clear that this was a big lesson and if there were a 'next time' the consequences would be serious. And even though the Prodigal's Older Brother likes to rear his head in me, something told me her sincere apology was enough.

I pulled her back where I could see her eyes and told her the way I knew Jesus really lived in her heart was because she felt such remorse--that Jesus doesn't let people who love Him feel ok about sin. She exhaled fully for the first time in a week and we hugged.

And as I so often do, I walked away from the moment shaking my head that when I listen to His still small voice--the one that is so frequently contrary to my prideful self, He shows up. He teaches me far more about Himself in these parenting moments than I am teaching the kids.

Honestly, I was chafed at being stonewalled. I wanted an interrogation. I wanted bright lights in faces. I wanted to 'catch' someone in a lie and make a big point...to prove I am no fool. (I feel so immature and gross typing that but I am not going to go back and delete it because it is true.)

God wanted me to zip my lips, swallow my pride and wait so He could speak to her heart and teach her a tender lesson. I had to get out of the way. This may not always be the role He wants me to play as Mama, but this time it was.

I have written before about C's 'post it note prayers.' They are sporadic these days, but such a glimpse into her heart. So, I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised by the one she wrote this morning.

And while I will never know on this side of Heaven what all God was up to when he led us on this journey and brought these two girls in our home, this lesson has to be part of it. He loves her.

This little person who didn't know anything about the Lord at all when she arrived on our doorstep in May has been wooed by His love. He is real in her life.

Frankly, we are nearing a major crossroads with these children and there are far more questions than answers about timelines, next steps, etc. But God knows and He will go with her when the time comes and wherever He has planned. 

Yet again the Lord has used fostering to reinforce a truth that applies to bio-parenting too. We DO NOT know what the future holds for our children. It is easier to pretend we do when an obvious outside force like DFCS isn't involved...but, to paraphrase Buechner, this is the world where "beautiful and terrifying things will happen" and we are charged to not be afraid.

We either trust God at His word or we don't. These are His children...the ones from my womb and the ones sleeping under my roof alike. My greatest duty is to point them to Him and watch Him work. As much as I'd like to think they can fully rely on me--it's a false hope. But He is not. The hope He offers is real, eternal and unshakable.

After all these months of tears, struggle, humble pie and exhaustion-- today I got a glimpse of the glory God Himself is working out of it all. And that peek is more than enough to refresh my weary bones and get me back in the ring. 

Life in Quotes

I have tried for a week to summarize some very big lessons God is teaching me...but the back stories are too long and the details too laborious for a blog post.

So, in the vein of keeping it simple, I want to share other people's words that God has used to drive home what He is teaching me about faith and trust when it comes to the lives of those dearest to me--and the 'safety' of my own heart.

"Worry is a form of meditation in which we turn the volume up on the things we fear about the hypothetical future and down on God's actual promises of care and provision." -Scott Sauls

"The only opportunity you will ever have to live by faith is in the circumstances you are provided this very day..." -Eugene Peterson

"We may feel the pressure of our circumstances but keep in mind God is never late...We're just in a hurry..." -Dr. Crawford Loritts & Psalm 27:14

And finally, this reminder from I Corinthians 4:5
"So don't get ahead of the Master and jump to conclusions with your judgments before all the evidence is in. When he comes, He will bring out in the open and place evidence of all kinds of things we never even dreamed of--inner motives and purposes and prayers."

As I typed all these tonight it occurred to me that the details of how I am learning all this are irrelevant because the truths are so widely applicable.

I am recording these for posterity because I know I will return to these reminders again and again.

He's got this. May we live as if we really believe it.

When Words Take Root

"He (Jesus) saw the potential in the lives of sinners. In Simon, He saw a rock. In Matthew, the publican, He saw a faithful disciple who would one day write one of the four Gospels..." -Warren Wiersbe

I have a house full of big personalities that illicit a wide range of emotions from their Mama--laughter, frustration, delight and a fair bit of cringing. When left unto itself, my mind races away with thoughts of what a child's future will look like if this or that weakness isn't reigned in. I have written many times about my temptation to parent from a place of fear rather than hope.

I want to be a wise steward of these little lives, but I also want to be like my Lord. Not leading anyone or anything impatiently or in a panic...but living and moving as an expression of faith. I loved this reminder that Jesus, Himself, was a seer of potential...focused on who people were to become moreso than where they were currently stuck.

During a recent session of purging my trio's backpacks I came across projects that gave me pause. Each of my 5th graders had completed a coat of arms assignment, researching colors and symbols to use in the design they felt best represented them.

The artwork was cute, but the attached explanations allowed a glimpse into their self image, values and aspirations that does not come frequently with tweens. As I savored these snapshots of who my 11 1/2  year olds are becoming, I pondered the implication of words spoken to them through this first decade+ of their lives.

To read what my kiddos state as their beliefs about their burgeoning identity left me awestruck. They were given a word bank of colors, symbols and their corresponding meaning, then free reign to express themselves. There was only one duplicate on their pages.

Here are a few excerpts of what they chose.

 P: "I chose a dove which represents trust in God, because I have faith in the Lord. I used silver because it represents peace."
"Gold represents generosity. I like to help people like our foster kids."
"I chose a globe because I love to travel the world."
"Green represents joy, hope & loyalty. I chose this because I'm usually happy and hopeful. For example, I hope our foster children will learn about God."

K: "I chose the Ichthus (Greek for fish)representing belief in Jesus. I thought this would be a good image to choose because I trust and love Jesus and God with all my heart."
I decided on blue for my background color. It represents truth and loyalty. I used this color because I always tell the truth and never tell a secret.
I chose thyme for my image. It represents courage and strength. I used this because I am brave when it comes to heights and ropes courses. I am also not scared of anything.
I chose gold because it means generosity. I share my stuff with my foster sisters."

R: "I picked the allerion because I trust God and He gives me strength. I chose white because I trust God and He helps me with my choices. I chose the anchor because I have a big belief in God and I love him from the bottom of my heart. I chose maroon because it means patient in battle and victorious. I chose this because I'm doing my best and having a comeback in school."

These are just excerpts. There were certainly humorous parts that reminded me these are children with lots of growing left to do...like the fact that R chose black for "constancy or grief because I am coming out of some hard times." (Concerned, I asked him what he was referring to and he flashed dimples and confessed he just thought black would look cool.)

But, typical 11 year old behavior considered, I was struck by the insight this project offered. Even while groaning at chores, attempting to sneak in a little extra screen time or practicing making body noise sounds that annoy, truth IS taking root in their hearts.

Exactly 4 hours before these beautiful, hope giving words came home I was confessing to my small group all the ways I feel like I am blowing it. I lamented that the business of life and ALL THESE CHILDREN was not allowing for the neat, picturesque moments I like to imagine my family having...

The evening Bible studies by the fire I aspire to as marks of a godly, together Mom are a stark contrast the wet haired children I am trying to coral into bed or the exhausted big kids splayed across the sofa watching replays of American Ninja Warrior.

But through the faithfulness of God and the countless adults God has placed in the lives of my children, Truth is taking deep root in their hearts.

As I read their assignments, I recognized some of the words their father and I have spoken over them--prayers we have prayed through the years. But their were other parts did not come from us, but from coaches, teachers, children's ministry volunteers, friends, family members--and oh, how God is weaving all of it together to form identity in their hearts! Truly breathtaking.

"A person becomes a person through other people." Desmond Tutu

This is the body. This is community. This is how lasting identity is formed. What a reminder to show up for other people's kids with well placed words and the investment of life on life! What an encouragement to stick with the rhythms of Bible study, church attendance and even Sunday afternoon lunch traditions with friends that have become family. These rituals form a framework where truth can be safely spoken and actively lived out.

Moment upon moment identity is being forged. Just as it is hard as a Mama to see just how much your children are growing in height, I think it can be equally challenging to see how their hearts are growing in depth. Every now and then we get these moments where we rub our eyes and go, "whoa." All of this investment of prayer and love and talking is adding up to something.

And here's the thing:  NOTHING IN THE ECONOMY OF GOD IS WASTED, even those real life moments! Squabbling siblings, ropes courses, family travel, grades that reflect not doing our best, the blending in of younger foster kids and the stretching and growth it requires? God is using it!!!

"It's an unbelievable experience to watch your kids become their own person. You know that all humanity has walked this way before, but for you and your child, it's all new. You are living the clichés, but now they are real and different."
- Sara Groves

This week I had the chance to sneak out of town for 24 hours of reconnection with dear old friends. I realized it is the same way in my adult heart. I have known these girls for more of my life than I haven't. Over 23 years we have experienced the highest of highs in joy, love and laughter and the lowest of lows in loss, pain and regret. Yet, even in our 40s, when we get together and share our hearts we remark to each other "My, how you have grown since I saw you last."

Nothing is wasted in the economy of God--not in a child's life and not in their Mama's.

So, today, Lord, lead us and guide us in having eyes to see and marvel all the ways You are at work. Give us words of hope, love and truth  and the courage and commitment to speak them. May we plant words that help each other grow into the people You have planned.