You Can't Steal Jesus

Recently some friends of ours told us of their frustration and sadness of the theft of the baby Jesus figurine from the nativity set they had displayed in their front yard. It’s pretty disheartening that someone would steal from your front yard in a small town, but even more so that they would steal Jesus! I remember my dear friend telling me about it and the loss of faith in mankind that it gave me just to hear the story, I can’t imagine how discouraged I would have felt if it had happened to me. “I just need to wrap some presents” she said, “to get me back into the Christmas spirit.”

And she was right. Because the joy of Christmas is found in the Holy Spirit at work in the world, loving like Jesus. We can easily get discouraged when we see people allowing evil to work instead of the Spirit, but her reaction is an inspiration to us all. When people or situations disappoint us, instead of getting discouraged, we need to work even more to spread love.

That same family knocked on our door yesterday morning with donuts and arms full of gifts for our family, something they do each year to shower another family with love. It’s a humbling thing to be on the receiving end of such an incredible act of generosity. As we sat and shared a cup of coffee I silently thanked God for the incredible gift of their friendship and for the wonderful reminder that you can’t steal Jesus.

The devil is working so very hard to make us forget the story of the birth of Jesus. The story of the God who loved his people so much He gave His son in exchange for them. The story that reminds us that after He came He never left and He’s there to meet us in every joy and sorrow and in-between. The story that this is not the end, but only a glimpse of the incredible beauty that awaits us.

Moments like yesterday when I get to share conversation with great friends, or when I walk into the room and my 4 year old is laying on the floor holding his baby sisters hand, or the loving looks and helpful hands that offer assistance when I’m out in public with all the kids, and my husbands constant and completely unconditional love are all pointing me to heaven. “This is just a piece of the joy that’s waiting for you,” God whispers in those moments.

Christmas is almost here and I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of things that don’t appropriately reflect the season of pointing us to the joy of heaven. But let’s all take a lesson from my friends and let our response to those things be to let the spirit work through us to spread love, to give people glimpses of Jesus and the joy that knowing Him brings. Because no matter what anyone does, they can never steal Jesus from our hearts.

So here’s to wishing not that you have the most perfect or merriest of Christmases, but that you get the opportunity to love others this Christmas. Share the story; it's most beautiful when told without any words.

It's ThanksGIVING...not ThanksGETTING

I'm not very present on social media anymore so I apologize if this post is just one more to flood your news feeds with rant over our materialistic obsessed culture and the loss of a sense of gratitude for what we do have in the wake of being surrounded by media pressure to have more.

Overall, it's an unfair generalization of our culture and I think most of us can say that the majority of our family and friends and the general people we know are very grateful and remember what's important in life. Media would like us to believe differently. I could hardly believe my ears when I heard Verizon's advertisements calling the day "Thanksgetting" because of the deals they are offering. Black Friday has now started on Thanksgiving day instead of at midnight. The holiday itself is easily lost amid the rush to get to Christmas.

Despite this, I believe that overall we are still a grateful people. I believe that most of us still know that while Thanksgiving is about being thankful for the ways that God has blessed us with freedom, friendships, family and food for our table, Christmas is about being thankful that God gave us freedom over death and sin. I am so thankful for the things here on Earth I have been given, but so much more incredibly thankful for the gift that this isn't the end, for the gift that even the greatest things or joy I experience here are nothing compared to what I will experience in heaven someday.

The "Thanksgetting" ads were just what I needed to push me over the edge of committing to making sure the way I celebrate Thanksgiving, Advent and Christmas are reflective of what I believe. It's so easy to get pulled into the way the stores would like us to celebrate the holiday: spending so much money and time on "stuff". I prefer to find the beauty of the season in growing closer to Christ by drawing nearer to Him in prayer and in relationships with others.

That's why I'll be celebrating ThanksGIVING by giving thanks to God for my blessings and spending time loving my family, NOT shopping. I'll be spending the advent season making lists of the ways I can help and love others, not making shopping lists. I'll be spending the Christmas season doing the things on those lists and more. I will be a part of the movement to prove that our world has not all been lost in a sea of wanting and greed. I will GIVE, and not GET. Give the only true gift anyone can give, the gift of themselves.

Happy ThanksGIVING! Happy Giving!

Do Not Worry, You Have Boots

Worry. It's just what moms do. It comes so naturally. If we can possibly imagine the worst that can happen, we'll worry that it will. If we get any kind of indication there's a greater chance something might happen we'll worry even more. Give us a situation that is easy to worry about and it might consume us.
Recently, a friend sent me a text message about Matthew 6:25-34. Here are the first few verses: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat [or drink], or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you more important than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span?"

There are a lot of times in my life when a verse has been presented at exactly the right time and was an answer to a prayer or I just knew that God was reminding me of something. But when I got this verse I was puzzled, because I had just read the exact verse the night before in the book "My Sisters the Saints" (another great one). The verse hadn't stuck out to me at all when I read it the night before, and I really didn't understand the significance of it in the text message either. But in my experience, it's usually not a coincidence to be presented with the same verse in a span of less than 12 hours. I decided to "ponder" the verse that day as there must be something God is trying to tell me.

It didn't hit me until later that morning after reading an email from a social worker concerning our foster girls. I've always thought about this verse in terms of money which is why it wasn't registering with me as relevant. But I realized it wasn't about money at all but that I can get consumed with worry over our foster children and what might happen to them. As a parent we worry about our kids but feel to some extent like we have some level of control over their future. It may be unrealistic the level of control we feel we have, but it's there to some degree. There is no illusion as foster parents though, we know and have to deal with the fact that we have no control. We love kids as our own while other people make decisions about their well-being and future. We get taken on a roller coaster ride of up and down emotions as plans change. And since we can't control it, we worry about it. We worry about where they might end up and if they'll be safe and loved. We worry about the affect it will have on them if they don't return home. We worry about every possible scenario as their future is so unknown. I worry about the affect the change of them being here and the change if they were to leave would have on my children. I worry about a million other scenarios.
And then Jesus says "Do not worry about your life..." The words peacefully drifted through my mind as I finished reading the email and I knew it was all going to be ok. Not that this situation might go the way I want it to, but that no matter what, it will be ok. "Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life span?" Not one moment of worry will make these kids stay safe longer. But the worry does rob me from time with them. It steals my joy. It makes me more distant because I'm playing out a thousand different scenarios in my mind. It makes me tense and not the carefree, fun mom I desire to be. Most of all, it makes it really hard to see the hope of Christ in me. Because worry is the opposite of hope. And worry can easily turn into fear, and it gets really hard to love with fear in our hearts.
So how do I stop worrying when precious lives hang in the balance? Jesus goes on to say:
"Why are you anxious about clothes? Learn from the way the wild flowers grow. They do not work or spin. But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like one of them. If God so clothes the grass of the field, which grows today and is thrown into the oven tomorrow, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith? So do not worry and say, ‘What are we to eat?’ or ‘What are we to drink?’ or ‘What are we to wear?’All these things the pagans seek. Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all.But seek first the kingdom [of God] and his righteousness,^* and all these things will be given you besides. Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient for a day is its own evil."
I came up with three steps to help me try to worry less:

1. One day at a time. Be a good mom today, in this moment. Stop letting worrying about who will love them later get in the way of loving them now.

2. "Seek first the kingdom of God." Keep my eyes on heaven, remember that all of this will pass away, and God has all of us in His hands, so no matter what happens, we have hope.

3. Remember that I have boots. Today was our first snow of the season and we watched from the window as it started to fall and continued to fall through the afternoon. It didn't seem to let up for hours, and began to start accumulating. I was reminded how often in life it feels like a storm comes and just won't let up. It seems like bad piles on top of bad and the depth of it seems to be too much for a person to handle. And we can spend the afternoon and our lifetimes looking out the window in despair as we watch it pile up, or we can do what my kids did: remember we have boots, coats, hats and gloves, and go make the most of it. "will he not much more provide for you". He gives us what we need for the weather we are given. If I'm facing something difficult, then He will give me courage and strength. If I'm facing a situation to worry, then He will give me peace. He is always there for us to put on to protect us from the storm. I just have to put on my boots and get out there. The fun is waiting and I'll never find it worrying and watching from the window.

How My Christian Family is Celebrating Halloween

I love Autumn. I love the crunch of the leaves when I walk, the coziness of warm sweaters and boots, my hand wrapped around a coffee sweetened with some sort of pumpkin flavoring, and the joy of harvest as the farmers experience the relief and satisfaction of bringing in the fruit of their labor.
That being said, I also cringe a lot this time of year. It's also the time we celebrate Halloween and it's a holiday I'm just not sure what to do about. Maybe you're with me. You get uncomfortable with the witches and ghosts and scary movies and zombie decorations on your neighbors lawn. You aren't a fan of your children demanding candy in return for an agreement to not vandalize the neighborhood. Maybe you think a holiday shouldn't be an excuse to dress in incredibly revealing or inappropriate clothing. Or most of all, as a Christian, the holiday of Halloween seems to be more against your beliefs than aligned with them.
The problem is, it's not the holiday that's the problem, it's the way we celebrate it. I had the initial reaction many years ago to just avoid the holiday all together and not celebrate it, writing it off as an unimportant holiday about candy and one more excuse for a party. But I quickly found out I was wrong (first time ever, ha!).
Halloween is a Catholic holiday, a celebration of All Saints Day, a day that has become quite lost in the commercialized celebration of Halloween.  On All Saints Day (Nov 1) we remember and celebrate all the Holy men and women in heaven. There are a bunch of great reasons that this is important, but the one on my heart today is the power and importance of knowing someone else has been there too. In my current jump into parenting 4 young children, I have found myself drawn to and reaching out to anyone else who has parented twins or multiple young children, or children with disabilities. Asking questions about how they did things (aka survived) and getting advice (they give more practical tips than just "start closet drinking" that people with only two kids give). But most importantly, it brings me so much encouragement just to know someone else has done this before.
It can be done.
It can be done well.
It can even be done gracefully.
When I see these families, then I know that I can do it to. I can learn from them, but most of all,
I am inspired by them.
The Saints do exactly that for us. They have been in our shoes, ordinary people facing difficult situations, and their beautiful witness of the way they followed Christ serves as a lesson and source of inspiration for us.
Their stories tell us following Christ can be done.
It can even be done gracefully.

So, what do we do about Halloween then with it's devil costumes, and bloody murder victims on the kids walk to school? Well after a lot of thought, here's how my Christian family is celebrating Halloween:

Attending Mass for All Saints Day.
Because going trick or treating and not going to Mass is like opening presents but not going to Christmas Mass. Pray for, honor and celebrate all our loved ones at this Mass! This is what Halloween is all about. Just like with all the holidays (Christmas, Easter, etc) make sure all the activities point to Mass and that it's the main event, not just "fit it" around the other stuff.

Carving pumpkins.
There are a lot of stories about the origins of this tradition, I'll let you google for yourselves. It can be a fun one if done right. Some talk about God scooping out the bad and putting his light inside of us while carving. Others carve Christian images like crosses. We are going to start our own tradition and use the opportunity to honor our family who have passed away by carving their initials, names, or something that reminds us of them, and say a prayer for them when we light the candle.

Costumes.
Dressing up is so fun for kids and adults. The important thing for me is to keep costumes on the fun side and not scary. It's supposed to be a celebration of life, not death! Some people chose to dress up like a saint and learn about them in the process - awesome if you are an organized mom! (Maybe when my kids get older we will do this, this year they are getting tossed into whatever cow/puppy/superhero costume has been handed down from their cousins.) I think no matter what you dress up as it's a good opportunity to talk about how there are no limitations with God and what He might ask us to do or be!

Host a Party/Visit the Elderly
There are a few great options for what do do once you're all dressed up. We chose not to let our kids go door-to-door for quite a few reasons, this is a personal choice and doesn't mean it can't be a fun way to celebrate by bringing joy to friends and family. We either invite friends to our house for a Halloween party where we can control the atmosphere and decorations and the kids still get tons of candy, or visit our local Nursing Home where the residents hand out candy and enjoy seeing the kids in costume. Consider going on a different day and handing out candy TO the residents and staff instead. Teaching kids the joy of giving just like the saints! I've also seen kids go door to door asking for donations for the food shelf instead of candy.

Candy.
Ok, any excuse to eat candy is a good one, but this especially is an opportunity to celebrate Heaven. It's a joy to be a Christian remember?! Because the end of our story is happy!! If you hand out candy to trick-or-treaters, being joyful Christians is a witness in itself! But if you want to go further, consider taping a bible verse or prayer to the candy.


I think the important thing to remember is to continue reminding our kids (and ourselves) through the ways that we celebrate just WHY we celebrate. Halloween has gotten to where it is today because the message got lost. Unfortunately I can't control that someone on a street I drive by has hanging corpses in a tree and I have to try to avert my 4-year-old's eyes or spend the rest of the drive answering his questions about it and the rest of the night soothing him after night mares from scary commercials he saw on TV. What I can do is "be the change I wish to see" (Gandhi). My family can celebrate the Eve of All Saints Day in a fun way as we keep the night holy. Happy Celebrating!!

Let Me Clean Your Bathroom

It’s been a weird combination of events that at the same time we ended up adding not one but two new babies to our family, quite a few of my closest friends were going through some big life changes as well, including two families who moved into new houses.
At our age and with multiple kids in tow already, moving is difficult and I wanted to offer a helping hand. The problem is, having four kids of my own, three of them still babies, I don’t exactly have a lot of free hands available. Actually, I’m in the market for an extra one if anyone knows how I can do that.
But even though I had “my hands full” as people like to say, I couldn’t let these big moments of their lives where they needed their friend’s help pass by without helping. So, when it came time for moving, I packed up my crew and came to help, even though I was afraid I might be just adding to the chaos instead of helping. And when I got there, that’s exactly what I felt. I spent most of the time chasing my kids, feeding my kids, and trying to keep my kids from making an even bigger mess. My friends both reassured me they were just happy I was there to offer moral support, but I really wanted to contribute, and at both houses after asking what I could do for about the fifth time, I was asked:
 “Well... you could clean my bathroom...”

They were both reluctant to ask, but I was happy to have a way to help where I could still keep an eye on my kids. It didn’t strike me until I was scrubbing the tub in my second friends bathroom in just a couple weeks, how honored I felt to be asked to do such a task.
I know... you are thinking I need better friends. But think about it: we don’t let anybody else clean our bathrooms but us, do we? Because it’s the most intimate room of our house, and it’s gross. It’s dirty and we’d prefer no one else have to deal with our mess. There are just a few select people usually in our lives that we will let into our house on it’s worst day, and there are maybe only one or two in the world that we’d let clean our bathroom.
I have never felt so privileged as I slowly scrubbed away layers of dirt and grime on my hands and knees. And I realized how often I hide my mess from others. My sin, my worst moments, the things I try and fail and try and fail at. I don’t want to others to see it, much less have to clean it up! I realized as I was scrubbing that I have to stop that. I have to start inviting people in to my mess. Because it’s an honor to be invited into that space, and because frankly, without them it might never get clean.
I've been holding on to this post for a while now, and this week it made sense why it was waiting until now. This week was a tough one, for no particular reason.  I just started to feel "not good enough" for this calling. Comparing myself to other moms and not measuring up. Listening to all the wrong voices pointing out my flaws and telling me I can't do this. My house was a disaster, the bills were overdue, and the kids were crying more than usual (it's a lot of crying with three babies in the house even if they are happy, you can imagine when one has an ear infection and another has a cold and the third is jealous and knows crying gets you picked up.) It was one of those weeks when I was tempted to put on a front, close the bathroom door and hide my mess. Instead, I opened the door. I let my friends see my messy house and less-than-par parenting skills. I cried about feeling inadequate and overwhelmed. And a really beautiful thing happened: Grace.
My dear friend spoke words of encouragement that healed my soul. My neighbor sent a huge pot of the most delicious Beef Stew I've ever eaten home with my husband so I didn't have to fix a few meals. My friends came and canned applesauce that I would have never gotten done on my own. And my incredible four year old put on a song at exactly the right time that I absolutely needed to hear:

When it's coming apart, you had it all.
It wasn't enough. No, it's not enough.
They tell you it's not worth the price, so just let it go.
But you know you can't. You know you won't.

It's not easy, no.
Finding the words to say.
When you're feeling lost, you'll find your way.

The world is so broken and sometimes it leaves you cold.
And at times you can't feel the fire to guide you home.
The demons will haunt you and try to steal what you know.
But the angels, they brought you, and they're gonna hold you up.
They're gonna hold you up.

Hold You Up - Shane Harper
I'm so blessed my angels come in the form of some very good friends and the cutest 4 year old I know.  Thanks for helping clean up my mess! Let me return the favor and clean your bathroom sometime ok?

It's Good to be Last

I’ve finally figured it out. The kids have installed a secret alarm on my body that can sense when I wake up in the morning and alarms so they can wake up as well. At first I thought it was just an alarm on my bed, that it seemed the second my feet hit the ground they would cry for me to come rescue them from their cribs, but then, one morning I decided in an effort to trick the alarm, that I would say my morning prayers while laying still in my bed.  I don’t think I got past two “Hail Mary’s” before the first cry sounded. “How are they doing this?!” I thought. It doesn’t matter if I wake up at 4 am, 5:30 or 7. They wake up when I wake up. Ok, I don’t get to 7 ever, but it’s a nice thought. And I know it’s not possible for babies to have the technology to carry out this theory even though all the signs point that direction.

The point is, this morning, like every other morning, I woke up early hoping desperately to have some alone time with God. I was reminded this week after a really tough day and then a rosary and a really awesome day just how important and powerful prayer is in my life and especially in my job as a mom and wife. So, determined to outsmart the kids and make sure I get my prayer time, I tiptoed as quietly as ever to the bathroom, but when I opened the door to the bedroom again I saw my husband gone from the bed and heard the cries coming from upstairs. I waited, sometimes Samuel will go back to sleep before 6 am. Dan came back down thinking Samuel was going back to sleep, but sure enough the domino effect couldn’t be undone and one by one each one was awake and even though they all needed another hour of sleep there was no way any of them were going to try that. I sat there on the couch holding a sleepy, crabby baby who wouldn’t let me put him down because he was too tired while baby number two cried at me from dad’s arms because in her sleepy state she just wanted me too. It’s always a frustrating feeling when you have a plan for the day or even the next half hour and it’s completely unraveled. But as I sat there snuggling I was gently reminded of the conversation we had in church this past Sunday.

“If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all.” Mk 9:36

Exactly the reminder I need as a mom. It’s easy for moms to put ourselves last, to be the servant. It’s natural, it’s pretty much expected by our kids. It’s really not something we have to work at. What I need work on is not being bitter about it. I need to work on EMBRACING it. It probably doesn’t mean a lot if I’m last of all or servant of all by default. It should be my choice, and HAPPILY my choice. I should consciously try each day to be their servant. Wouldn’t that be so much more joyful than feeling stuck as their servant? Because didn’t we choose that to begin with? Didn’t we stand up on the altar and promise each other we’d lay down our lives for the other? Didn’t I give my whole self for this man and for the family that God would create with that gift?

If you have ever met anyone who is overall a very selfless person, you know the joy that radiates from that CHOICE to serve others. You also know if you’ve ever met anyone who serves unwillingly the bitterness that consumes them.  Yes, I chose joy, I choose to serve.

The best part, is that I’m pretty sure Jesus said these words two thousand years ago just for us Mom’s, because the very next verse says “Taking a child, he placed it in their midst, and putting his arms around it, he said to them, ‘Whoever receives one child such as this in my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives not me but the One who sent me.’” Mk 9:37

This Sunday at church I found myself yearning for the spiritual experience that Mass used to be for me. Lately, trying to keep our 4 children from crying, falling, or running up on to the alter (we’ve had some close calls) it’s a good day if I just am able to catch a few verses of scripture or sing a line I know from a song (because there are no extra hands to hold a book and if I did I’m positive a toddler would end up throwing it at the head of someone in front of us).  But as I sat there after communion and offered up a quick apology to God for my distracted heart and saddened by the distance I felt, He quickly reminded me that He was sitting right there in my lap. “Whoever received one child such as this in my name receives me.”

So, this morning because I have a short memory I sat there on my couch sad about missing my morning conversation with God when He gently reminded me again that He was sitting right in my lap with me.

Being last is hard sometimes, it means we forget what it's like to have adult conversations, we run on less sleep and rarely drink a warm cup of coffee. We give up the things we like to do to the point that we hardly recognize ourselves anymore. Ask a mom what her favorite food is and see how long it takes her to answer. Chances are, like my mother whose birthday is coming up, it will take her 10 minutes to think about it and figure it out because she's so used to making food everyone else likes. We don't get showers on days when we REALLY need showers and we must choose between a very limited social life, a hobby or a clean house, it's only possible to have one if you have time for any. But as I sat there snuggling my "mini-Jesus" this morning who after all that crankiness peaked up and gave me the sweetest smile, my heart just loved being last.

Be a servant, CHOOSE to be a JOYFUL servant. Moms: seriously, how blessed are we to get to be last? And because I was last this morning, I got to be first to see my son take his very first steps today. Keep me honest friends, keep reminding me if I start complaining just how great it is to be last. J

To the Friends and Family of a “Crazy” Foster/Adoptive Family

We’ve been hearing the word “crazy” a lot lately. And it’s not because I’ve been leading wacky kids songs or joining in water fights. Well, I have been doing those things, but most people that know me are used to that.  It’s because we’re growing, at least for now, from a family of 4 to a family of 6. The “crazy” part, so we’re told, is that 3 of those kiddos are 1 year old and under. People say “you're busy” or “you sure have your hands full” but overwhelmingly the response is “you guys are crazy” and I have to admit that I had heard it so often I was kind of starting to believe it. I realized I was almost embarrassed to share their ages when people asked. So when someone asked me for the millionth time I just ended with, “I know, you probably think we’re crazy.” But her response surprised me “No, I don’t think you’re crazy, I think you’re incredibly compassionate and caring.” I wasn’t ready for it, but I didn’t realize until the moment I heard it how nice it was that someone didn’t think we were crazy, how nice it was that someone else understood that it’s simply about love.

Here’s the thing dear friends and family: When we decided to do foster care, we didn’t consult you. It was our choice for our little family of two. The problem with that, is that we didn’t consider that it takes more than two to raise a child, and that any decision we make impacts you as a part of our world. We made the decision to open our hearts to welcome children for an unknown amount of time into our lives after many hours in prayer and God giving us peace about the heartbreak that would come with that opening of the heart. You, on the other hand, by default of being connected to us, end up forced to open yourself to new kids and possibly a heartbreak of your own. You didn’t get to spend hours deciding if it would be worth it, or hear God remind you He has seen you through loss before and He will do it again.  So I understand that our lifestyle might be a little too “crazy” for you sometimes. And that’s ok. 

I know when you encourage us to proceed with caution or try to talk us out of things all together it’s because you are worried about us and have our best interest at heart, and for that we love you. But consider that we believe it’s in our best interest to put our interests aside for the good of others. Consider that through both the loss of our children through miscarriage and in foster care that we have learned just how true the phrase “better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” really is. Consider that we never make decisions without giving them so much thought and more importantly a whole lot of prayer.   But also understand that we know none of this changes how it affects you. You will be there to let us cry on your shoulder when our hearts are broken. You will buy extra birthday gifts, babysit extra kids, and listen to yet another heart-wrenching story that we have jumped in the middle of instead of avoiding it like many would. You will welcome these tiny people into your family whether for the day, the month or forever, and for that we are eternally grateful. Because giving kids a family is more than just giving them parents. We love you and we love that you do all that even though foster care wasn’t your choice.

Even though you do all that and so much more, I’m asking for one final thing: SUPPORT.  Support for our “crazy” undertakings. You see, when we decided to do foster care I suppose the biggest reason we didn’t consult anyone else is because we don’t typically feel the need to get permission or have affirmation from others. We know what we’re doing is right and that’s all that matters. Except, I’ve realized in our latest adventure, that while I don’t NEED your support or understanding of the way we’ve chosen to live our life, I would really LIKE it. I would really like for you to even be happy for us, even though you aren’t sure we should be happy about it. I would really like to know you want us to succeed and I would really love for you to recognize that success means God has once again proven His strength, not mine. I would love if you offered a helping hand when I’m needing it, but more than anything, I would really just like to see “I get it” instead of “you’re crazy” when I look in your eyes.  “I get it” as in “I get that you’ve been called to serve God in this way and your choices to follow him are beautiful, even if I wouldn’t do it myself. I get that you value children so much. I get that because of that value, not a lot of other things hold much weight in a decision to take a child. I get that even though to the untrained eye this looks like a ton of sacrifice, you mostly see blessings. I get it.”  

You really don’t have to say a word, the look says it all. I’m not looking for praise, in fact, I’d really prefer you don’t say things at all about the “good we’re doing” because it makes my kids feel like a service project.  They are truly the angels, not us. Just give me a simple knowing smile when someone else tells me I’m crazy so I don’t feel like I’m the only one in the world that cares about these tiny little hearts. Because truly I know you would do the same if you were in my shoes. And I promise when you are in that place in your life, whatever “crazy” looks like to me, I will step back and try to see it from your view like that wonderful person did for me.

I can’t say enough how blessed we are by our friends and family. Thank you for your constant love, support and understanding. So many of you do “get it” already and you are such blessings to our crazy growing family.      

Just So You Know...You are Wanted, You are Liked

What seems like a hundred years ago I was having one of the first conversations with my now-husband who had cornered me at a party. It was only our second time meeting but I have forever remembered the conversation (and teased him for it). He was trying to ever so casually show his interest in me, which in my suave husbands style equated to him telling me every other sentence or so that "just so you know, I really like you." I still tease him about this to this day, but honestly... it worked. I answered his phone call and he got a date. And more honestly, it made me feel valued, special, and worthy... what we all long for really.
I don't know about you, but over the last few weeks my facebook newsfeed has been flooded with articles, videos and commentary about Planned Parenthood and abortion. (If you don't have all the pro-life friends I do that have been flooding your newsfeeds, this is the video that started it and a few more have followed.) I have watched and read many of them but I haven't said anything or shared anything yet. Partly because when I say something I want it to be the right thing, and partly because I want to be careful in what I say to not further hurt those who have already been hurt by the death of their child. But this week in particular I feel there is an important message that needs to be shared, so here I go:

One of the messages that I saw was from Abby Johnson who is a former employee of Planned Parenthood. She shared about a discussion on late term abortion:

"I went to a friend of mine and asked her what she thought of aborting babies so late...I had always been uncomfortable with late term abortion. She said, "Well, it's better to kill them before they are put in a dumpster." And that was how I then began to justify late term abortion in my mind..."better than in a dumpster."

Since leaving Planned Parenthood, that conversation has always haunted me...how easily I could justify something so heinous. I have since learned that if you have to justify something, then you probably shouldn't believe in it. Thank God for redemption and mercy."
 

The whole post was even more disturbing than that, but it cut to my heart that it is a very common way of thinking that there are so many children that are so un-wanted that they are better off dead. The timing of this is no accident. Tomorrow, we celebrate the first birthday for my son Samuel who we were blessed to adopt after years of praying for him. I have spent the entire year thanking God for his birth mother, who gave him the greatest gift of life and gave us the greatest gift of him. I realized as I read that quote "better than in a dumpster" that after years of trying to adopt I have been so immersed in the adoption world and surrounded by other families who have adopted, that maybe other people don't understand what I have come to know: EVERY BABY IS WANTED. Maybe you haven't met one of us, that understands the amazing gift that a child is because we can't produce one as easily or even by accident like so many can. Maybe you haven't shared a friends adoption page 50 times over a period of 5 years as they painfully wait to bring a child home. Maybe you haven't gotten to see that couples love for each other spill over to their child and that love spill into the community like I have. Maybe you haven't felt the incredible joy of finally getting that phone call you've been waiting for your entire life. And probably, if you still believe in abortion, you weren't there when my son's birth mom sweetly told him she loved him and handed him to me. You haven't seen my husbands smile as his boys snuggle in to his shoulder.

You haven't felt the days and years pass slowly as you pray with all your heart that God will give you a child. Maybe you didn't know that at any given time there are over ONE MILLION of us.
There are no un-wanted babies.

 

Please, if you are pregnant or ever become pregnant, hear my message as loud and clearly as I heard my husband that night at the party: Your child is wanted, and is loved. They will grow up feeling special, valued and worthy. I personally could put you in contact with multiple couples currently hoping to adopt as well as my husband and I.
I also challenge those of you reading this who want to save children, if we truly care about these children, we have to work harder to create a culture that values children instead of seeing them as a burdon. We have to care enough to not only be willing to adopt or help their parents, but WANT to. All children need to be wanted by someone. Sadly, I bet we all know a child who doesn't feel that way. We can change that. We can be the one person that makes them feel valued. It might be as simple as "just so you know, I like you" and it might just be all they need to hear.
I hope you know today that you are valued and loved by me and most of all by the King of the Universe. Prayers as you change the world, one child at a time.

 

Be More Concerned with the Fruit than the Weeds

Be more concerned with the fruit than the weeds. This is a thought I've been reflecting on this summer. One of my very favorite things about summer is gardening. I get so much joy out of taking care of my two vegetable gardens and the flowers around my yard. But I've always had a weird trait; I actually enjoy weeding more than harvesting. I don't know why. I suppose partly because it's calming to sit and pull weeds while my mind relaxes, and partly because it lends to my inner clean freak nature. I think I love to see my garden "clean" even more than my house. And often I take this to the extreme in that I spend so much time weeding I forget or don't realize when it's time to harvest. I laugh at myself because I spent so much time weeding a row of spinach but didn't cut it early enough so it seeded out after just one cutting. My garden was clean as clean could be when my godson proudly plucked a huge cucumber and brought it to show me. I had no idea the cucumbers were ready. Which led us to look closer to see some large zucchini's ready to be picked as well.
Pope Francis says in the Joy of the Gospel "an evangelizing community is always concerned with the fruit, because the Lord wants her to be fruitful. It cares for the grain and does not grow impatient with weeds. The sower does not grumble or overreact at weeds. He finds a way to let the word take flesh in a particular situation and bear fruits of new life, however imperfect or incomplete these may appear."
When I read it, I realized that my weed obsession spreads further than the garden. I have often put so much emphasis on trying to protect my teenagers from the sinful world they live in, trying to shield my son from bad influences. We had so many conversations and I've spent countless hours in worry about the world that my children will grow up in and how difficult it might be for them to flourish amidst all the weeds. And I think so many of us work tirelessly trying to rid the world of weeds, getting frustrated that we aren't making even the smallest dent.
God reminds me today that I need to shift my focus off of the weeds so that I can see the fruit. Because it's the fruit that's important. That maybe if I spend less time worrying about the sin in the world I can't control and more time loving and teaching my children, they will bear fruit. I need to stop pulling weeds and remember to water the dry garden. And maybe most of all, remember that really the only things I have control over is putting the seed in the ground and watering it. God has to do the rest.
I love how Pope Francis says "He finds a way to let the word take flesh in a particular situation and bear fruits of new life, however imperfect or incomplete these may appear." We want ministry and parenthood to be perfect, just like I don't want weeds popping up in my straight, clean rows. But perfect is one thing it will never be. Life is messy, and messy is where God does His best work. I'm finding so much peace in the letting go of perfect and watching God work in the imperfections. I have a feeling He can do even better work among the weeds if we just let Him.
I have a stone walkway at my house, where weeds can grow in between the cracks in the rocks. I learned early not to weed it right away in the spring, because some of the flowers that I planted in my pots from the year before seeded out into the cracks in between the rocks. If I weed as soon as they pop up, I can't tell what is a flower and what is a weed, and I pull all of them together. But if I wait a while, I can see what they are becoming and save the flowers. I just look at the beauty of the flowers and smile because as hard as I work I could never ever plant anything as beautiful as what God does in this unusual place.
We want life to be black and white, as easy as things being weeds and flowers. But God uses all kinds of situations to spread His word as long as we will let go of the need for it to be perfect. So please join me in praying for us to let go of our constant worry and fretting about the weeds instead focusing on the fruit, and the good God is doing in the weeds.

God is Good...Every Time

My son has a book called "God is Good, All the Time." I've used that phrase a million times at camps and retreats. It's amazing how reminding ourselves that God is indeed good can make the biggest or smallest struggles seem manageable. Why should we worry, when our God is so good? Well, we were reading the book a while ago when I would say the first part he would say God is good, every time! I tickled him, "no silly boy, it's all the time" We went to the next page and I said the first part and he said "God is good, every time!" I tried to correct him again but he insisted that the correct words were "every time". So we finished the book with him saying "God is good, every time" after every page. And I realized part of the way through the book, that he was right. His words are better. We use the phrase "oh he always does that" or "she does that all the time" often to mean that someone usually does something, but it doesn't necessarily mean they always do. But when we say "he does that every time" it means, EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. Without exception.

I think it's easy for us to say that God is good when we are enjoying a beautiful summer day at the lake with our family, sitting around the bonfire looking at the stars, when a new baby is born, when my kids are making me laugh, or during praise and worship. But God is good during the good moments, the boring moments, and the tough ones. God was so good during the loss of my children, the way that He comforted me, met my needs, and allowed me a closeness to Him that was so special. God is good when I'm having a bad parenting day and I turn to Him to give me the grace I need to be more loving. God is good when He shows forgiveness that I haven't been able to give to others. God was good when Jesus hung on the cross in what seemed to be a hopeless situation, just as He was good to the first disciples as they faced opposition while bringing people to Christ.

I can't become overwhelmed or discouraged by a situation when I can simply recall all of the times that I have clearly been able to see that God is good. I can trust that this time too, God is good, even if I can't see it right now. Because God is good, every time. And that knowledge changes the whole game.

"God, thank you for being so good to us. Help us to praise you and know of your goodness in every moment, every situation. Let the knowledge of your goodness give us peace and calm our worry. Remind us of your goodness when we forget. Amen"

Lessons from a 4 year old: How the Cross Makes you Really Really Fast

Yesterday my dear four year old came to me as proud as ever with marker drawn on his arms telling me that he found a marker in the bathroom. You moms all know how this goes, they are proud, you are horrified at the mess or disaster created and they are pretty sure they are the next Picasso. Well, the next words out of his mouth did surprise me, but in a whole other way. He said "I drew the sign of the cross on my wrists so that I could run really, really, really, really, really, really (insert 10 more really's) really fast. As I looked closer on his wrist sure enough, they weren't random marks, they were crosses, one on each wrist.

It's a proud parent moment when you get to see that your four year old realizes that God can make us better. He loves to run and is always looking to be faster. He has certain shirts he calls his "fast" shirts, and often has to change into shorts because he can go faster in those too. But I just absolutely love that he decided above all of that that clearly the cross would make him fastest of all.

Hebrews 12:1-3 says

"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses,

let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us

and persevere in running the race that lies before us

while keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus, the leader and perfecter of faith.

For the sake of the joy that lay before him he endured the cross,

despising its shame, and has taken his seat at the right of the throne of God.

Consider how he endured such opposition from sinners,

in order that you may not grow weary and lose heart."

How absolutely right my son is, that not only does God - keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus - help us in our race, but truly focusing on the cross itself, not just as a sign for Jesus but as a motivational reminder, is key. When we look at the cross and consider what he endured as the third verse says, then we will not grow weary or lose heart with the obstacles we are facing because it's nothing compared to what He went through. 

The verse and the cross both call us to shed our sin. It's slowing us down! And if we think we can't, just look at the cross. We can, because of the cross, because He embraced that cross, we have the power to overcome the sins that cling to us, that slow us down, that hold us back from the life we were made to live, the race we were made to run.  

I'm called to consider, by a four year old who found a marker, a question: am I relying on the cross to help me finish this race, or am I looking to other things instead? I'll reflect on that as I'm scrubbing the marker off of the wall in the bathroom...consider how he endured such opposition...it's just a little ink. :)

 

Just Keep Trying

If any of you ever watch "Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood" with your kids you might be familiar with the catchy tune: Just keep trying...you'll get better. I love that show for the great lessons it teaches my 4 year old. Each show has a short jingle that they sing to reinforce the lesson of the day and honestly at first I thought they were really annoying but after a while I noticed that I could use them during the day when we encountered those types of situations and they really helped my son. I even started to notice him singing them to himself.
So recently, one of the episodes featured the "just keep trying" jingle and I feel like ever since it's been popping up in my life all over the place.
For example, one day last week I had a terrible day. You know those "I'm crabby, the kids are crabby, and everything that can go wrong does", kind of days. I felt horrible and texted a friend at the end of the night how I wish there was a re-do button for that day because of the terrible mom job I did that day. Of course she texted she was sorry but there is no re-do button, but there is always tomorrow. She was right, and as Daniel Tiger was singing "just keep trying, you'll get better" in my ear, I promised tomorrow I would try harder. And guess what? I did, and I was.
I think sometimes we do a disservice to each other by excusing the act of settling. You'll find a million blog posts about moms who refuse to try so hard and have succumbed to the fact that they will never be supermom. I'm not advocating that its necessary to be supermom, but instead that there's a healthy balance where we realize we aren't perfect, but we keep trying to be better moms, better wives, better Christians. In the strike against trying to pretend like we have it all together or always being the best, some have slumped to the extreme other end of not trying at all and excusing it as them not masquerading as super-mom. It can be easy for me to fall into this slump as we are so quickly to help each other excuse away our mom-flaws and bad habits. But I know at the end of the day when I lay in bed recounting the day, the guilt and remorse I am feeling over the day isn't stemming from comparing myself to any other moms, but from the knowledge deep inside me that I was made better than that. I was made to love greatly, to love better, to love even on my crabby days, even on the kid's crabby days, even when the washing machine leaks all over the floor and the toilet won't stop running. I'm not trying to be like other moms, I'm trying to be like Jesus. It's not an unhealthy thing to compare myself to Him. As our primary example, it's necessary.
So, friends, please don't excuse my bad behaviors. Yes, I'm sleep deprived, and my husband has been working long hours and I can argue with my son to get dressed in my sleep because we've done it every day for a month. But those excuses are so weak compared to the strength of the Holy Spirit that promises to give me what I need for this very important work. This theme flows from motherhood to work struggles, strained relationships, people I fail to love well, the list goes on and on. I know when I am feeling discouraged or beating myself up about a failure, it's not Daniel tiger's voice whispering in my ear "just keep trying", but a much more familiar one. My prayer is that I can always reply, "Ok, Father, thanks for the encouragement and thanks for believing in me, I'll keep trying."

Offering prayers for you in your "trying!"

Give Me Jesus

This morning at Mass I had the privilege of singing a beautiful song with our very talented praise band. And even though I've sang the words to that song a hundred times, I couldn't help but be captivated by their very simple and very profound words: "You can have all this world, give me Jesus"

You see, this is what I love about Lent, because the closer we get to Holy Week, the more intense it gets. This is where the boys are separated from the men. This is when we're forced to face the reality of the depth of our faith. There's no "my yolk is easy" talk now, instead Jesus says follow me, and it won't be easy, it will cost you everything, but it will be worth it. Read this from the gospel this morning:

"Some Greeks who had come to worship at the Passover Feast
came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee,
and asked him, “Sir, we would like to see Jesus.”
Philip went and told Andrew;
then Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus.
Jesus answered them,
“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified.
Amen, amen, I say to you,
unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies,
it remains just a grain of wheat;
but if it dies, it produces much fruit.
Whoever loves his life loses it,
and whoever hates his life in this world
will preserve it for eternal life.
Whoever serves me must follow me,
and where I am, there also will my servant be.
The Father will honor whoever serves me. Jn 12:20-26
I don't think it matters who we are - a normal church-goer, a priest, a missionary, an addict - this verse hits us all where it hurts the most. At Mass this morning our priest spoke about asking a teenager if he could give up his cell phone for just one day and the mortified response he got. But the reason this verse hurts isn't because he's asking us to give up a cell phone, or sin, or money, or even a job. That's the easy stuff. It's easy to swap out the bad stuff and replace it with Christ. But the reason that this terrifies me is that He doesn't just ask for the bad, He asks for the good too. When I think about the things I'm hanging on to in this life, it's not cell phones or money or material things at all. It's people.

This is where it gets hard. Do I love Jesus enough to give everything, even the most sacred treasure I have on this earth, my family, if I was asked to? When I pray can I truly pray "you can have ALL this world" and truly mean ALL of them?

I was thinking about this as we drove home from church, and how the author of the book "The Hardest Peace" and blog Mundane Faithfulness, Kara Tippetts, really understands this so much better than most of us. As a wife and mother of young children fighting a losing battle with cancer, she writes about her love for her family, but that clinging to even the best gifts we're given here is missing out on the greater promise. Marriage, family, the love that we experience here on earth is just a sign of what waits for us in heaven. But Kara says "we lack imagination for what we can't see, feel, smell and taste. We are reckless in our grasping for more time, and forget the best is yet to come. We simply have so little imagination for our forever home, and yet I feel Jesus is very gentle with us in our lack of understanding" (The Hardest Peace, pg 104 - Seriously, read the whole book, it's so good!) I know that God is using Kara's story to challenge my heart. And this evening, her husband posted on her blog that she passed away today.

The reading for today continued with Jesus's prayer:
“I am troubled now. Yet what should I say?
‘Father, save me from this hour’?
But it was for this purpose that I came to this hour.
Father, glorify your name.”
Then a voice came from heaven,
“I have glorified it and will glorify it again.” Jn 12:27-29

Kara or her husband or children would not have been blamed for having asked God to save her. Even Jesus was troubled with what the Father was asking of Him. But Kara understood there is a bigger picture, and that it was for this purpose that she came. Having shared her story and the heart of Christ with thousands of people, God is certainly glorifying His name through her. And I'm sure she has already realized it was worth it.

When I think about the life, my 3 boys, that I want to cling to, I have to pray for faith like Jesus. That when faced with the ultimate sacrifices, I won't ask to be saved, but instead understand that quite possibly it was for this purpose that I am here, and only that God's name be glorified. I think for all of us this is a daily struggle, to stay focused on Jesus. So I will try and fail, try again, and pray. Pray for faith like Jesus, that the words "you can have all this world, give me Jesus" transform from song lyrics into a heartfelt prayer, and then a life lived out.

Give me Jesus

Take a few minutes to listen to the song and pray it. https://youtu.be/wS4JQi4dgvg

Keep Making Me...The Lesson it took 30 years to Learn (Includes Samuel's Story)

Today is my 30th birthday. My friends and family know I haven't been looking forward to this day since I turned 29. I've always been a kid-at-heart and really enjoyed my youth. Each year, I feel less able to connect with the youth I minister to. I notice my body struggle more to do the things that used to be so easy. It's tough getting older, (and yes, my dear older friends, I can just picture you're eyes rolling as you read this). I know 30 isn't OLD and that I should be enjoying it, and I am. But it's inevitable that a milestone birthday makes you stop and evaluate your life. I'm sure I'm not the only one who at the age of 30 has thought "I thought by the age of 30 I would have _____________". The answers to that are endless, but for me I started thinking about what I used to think my life would be like, and what it is now. And I thought it a fitting time to finally tell you the story of how Samuel came to be in our family.

Most people that know us know that I suffer from recurrent pregnancy loss which has resulted in the loss of every child we have conceived. Over the first 5 years of our marriage we lost 5 children, one each year. It wasn't easy for me to get pregnant, and the first 3 years we were actively trying, even working with medical intervention. But what we haven't shared with many, is in 2014 we lost 3 more children. Something clearly changed in my body that made it easier for me to get pregnant, but unfortunately did not change my ability to sustain the pregnancy. The first pregnancy wasn't a shock, but the second and then the third were hard to handle. There's a physical toll on my body, but its the emotional one that makes 3 pregnancies in a span of 6 months so difficult. There's hope and then feeling stupid for hoping, there's constant worry that I stood up too fast, was too active, too stressed or did something else to jeopardize the pregnancy. Any expectant mom knows, it doesn't matter how many doctors tell you there's nothing you can do, you always feel like you need control, so you control what you can, like moving and eating. Because the worst feeling of all, the one that consumes me when I am pregnant, is that I am simply waiting for my child to die, and there's absolutely nothing I can do. In my opinion, there is no greater pain in the entire world, except watching your child suffer while you can do nothing to stop it. In experiencing these two things I have learned on a deeper level about the love my God has for me, because He did both for me, and He CHOSE it. He could have done something about it, but He didn't, for me.

You'll often hear me reference that it has been in the darkest times in my life that I have felt the closest to God, and also those times when I have grown in holiness. With my first miscarriages, while I can look back and realize this, I didn't see or feel it at the time, and I was very hurt, bitter and angry. Through a lot of spiritual growth, my pregnancies are less painful in the spiritual sense because I know my God is with me and giving me the strength to get through it. I know He isn't punishing me or taking my children from me, and I know that He is using my hurts and brokenness to bring about something greater. Knowing all of these things allows me to just try to enjoy that for a short time I get the gift of this beautiful life, this miracle, living inside of me. I soak up the closeness I feel to Jesus as He draws near to comfort me during a difficult time. But even though anger and bitterness are gone, grief over the loss of my child always remains.

When I found myself pregnant for the 8th time, I found myself in a special prayer where I asked God to save this child, and He replied gently: "your plan or Mine?" I knew He was right, so even though it broke my heart, I didn't ask Him to go against His plan and save my child, instead I asked Him to comfort me.

Three weeks later, on July 10th, baby Augie went to heaven. No amount of understanding makes that part easier. I can't explain the pain of holding your lifeless child in the palm of your hand. From my first to my eighth, they have each equally hurt and caused a pain to the depth of my very soul. God's gift to me, is in the midst of that pain, He meets me. He doesn't take away the pain, but He gives me what I need to handle it. And in those darkest, most horrible moments He has changed my heart and allowed me to know Him on a deeper level and for that reason alone, I am grateful for my suffering. I won't ask that it be taken, and I will embrace any new pain, because it draws me nearer to Him, and to be near to Him is what I was made for and all I truly desire, whether I realize it at the time or not.

God isn't just using this pain to help me grow in holiness, He's also using it to bring about His magnificent plan. A lot of doctors visits ended with a surgery drug out 3 weeks after Augie was born. After a lot of prayer, and at one specific Mass, my husband and I both felt God telling us that He was going to grow our family through adoption. We had been hoping to adopt over the last year, but were still waiting. And then, the phone rang. Home recovering from the surgery on July 31st, I received a phone call from our Social Worker telling us about a potential foster care placement that would most likely lead to adoption. The baby wasn't even born yet, and the birth parents were willing place the baby for adoption if they were happy with the foster family chosen. "Would we be interested?" It's hard not to laugh at that question, or scream at the top of my lungs "OF COURSE!" After a little more information from another social worker, we arranged a meeting with the birth mother. I've never wanted anyone to like me so badly in my whole life! Luckily, we instantly connected. I'd always heard that there is a special connection with a birth parent, but never understood until then. We truly love her and could easily be good friends.

*Killing time before meeting Samuel's birthmom because we got there like an hour and a half early. Can you tell we were excited and nervous!?

The baby was due at the end of the week, and we went home and waited for the phone call. Finally, after the longest week of my life, they scheduled her to be induced after going over her due date. We were blessed to be there for the entire labor and delivery where I grew to love this woman even more. After spending 9 months giving her body for this child, now she suffered such pain for a child she would not keep. I watched her and I felt so helpless. Wanting so badly to take away her pain, not knowing the right words to say, and feeling guilty because this should be my pain and not hers. But all I could do was pray. And when she held that beautiful baby in her arms and told him how much she loved him as she handed him to me, my heart couldn't contain the sorrow and joy that I was experiencing. Sorrow again in the helpless feeling of wanting to ease her pain, and joy in seeing the beauty of God's plan. Just a month ago, I handed my child over to Him, and as always, my God is trustworthy and has turned my sorrow to dancing. I know He will do the same for Samuel's birth mom who offered the same trust in Him as she handed her child over.

We named him Samuel, because it means "asked of God" (Go read the book of 1 Samuel) Hannah is barren and prays for a child and God grants her request. What we liked the most was this line: "For this child I prayed and the Lord has granted my petition. Therefore, for as long as he lives, he is given to the Lord." 1 Samuel 27-28 After years of praying and waiting for a child, Hannah wouldn't have been blamed for having held tight to her precious gift, but instead she takes him to live with Eli to serve God. Our Samuel is my child, and he is his birth mom's child, but most of all He is God's, and therefore, he has always been given to God, but it was especially special at his baptism to make our promise official.

Photo credit of the two above to my AMAZINGLY talented and wondeful friend Ashley Stoel

For the last 7 months, our hearts have overflowed with the joy in bringing Samuel home and settling in to our family of four. Nathaniel loves being a big brother and I would argue he's the best one I've ever met, constantly giving sweet kisses, offering a toy or kind word when he's crying, and doing anything that will make him laugh. We are so so happy. And yet, here I am on my 30th birthday writing a post about 30 not being what I expected. Yes, it's not what I expected. Not at all what I envisioned or planned or even strove toward.  I learned a long time ago that God's plan is so much better than mine. But the lesson it took 30 years to learn and will probably take 30 more to master is that it really isn't the things that happen in life that are important, but instead that I allow those things to bring me closer to Him. Instead of thinking "I thought by the age of 30 I would have more kids" or "I thought by 30 I would have been farther along in my professional career" I should instead be saying "I never thought by the time I would 30 I would know God this intimately." I should be saying "By the time I'm 40 I want to be so connected to His love, His presence, His will, that's its hard to tell the difference between where I end and He begins." And if it takes 30 more years of suffering and pain to make that happen, I'll gladly walk that road, because the company is like none other.

I feel like the song "Keep Making Me" by Sidewalk Prophets says the same thing I just did but so much better. Take some time to pray it, especially during lent when we strip everything else away so we can see what really matters. Here are the lyrics:

Make me broken
So I can be healed
‘Cause I’m so calloused
And now I can’t feel
I want to run to You
With heart wide open
Make me broken

Make me empty
So I can be filled
‘Cause I’m still holding
Onto my will
And I’m completed
When you are with me
Make me empty

[Chorus:]
‘Til You are my one desire
‘Til You are my one true love
‘Til You are my breath, my everything
Lord, please keep making me

Make me lonely
So I can be Yours
‘Til I want no one
More than You, Lord
‘Cause in the darkness
I know You will hold me
Make me lonely

It's HOW you Say It

This is scary. For the first time ever I am starting to type with absolutely no idea how this is going to end. In my earliest writing years my High School English teachers taught me the importance of an outline before you being to write. It's to easy to lose focus, or jump around and not make any sense if you write without a plan. Not that I typically write out an outline before each blog post, but I do generally know the theme or point I'm trying to make before I start to write. Just like other posts, this topic has been brewing in my mind for a while, the problem is, I'm still not sure what the solution is. Or maybe what the lesson I need to learn yet is? But I'm feeling called to write about it, so praying, God, that you teach me while we go here.
You see, I'm struggling with the way evil works within our church. I love the Catholic Church and the beautiful gifts the church has to offer. I believe none of us would know about Christ if it weren't for organized religion. I also believe our God knows that we need each other, we need structure, and we need guidance. I could go on and on for the reasons I know that we need the global church. BUT, a church made up of sinful people is a scary thing, because it means that within such a beautiful thing is also a lot of ugly. I have been blessed in my working with and for the church to see church in it's most glorious forms: reaching out and serving as the body of Christ, lifting our voices to heaven in unison, healing, teaching, bringing hearts closer to Christ. But I have also seen it at it's worst. Pride, anger, jealousy, gossip, selfishness....I've often said there is more conflict than ever when it comes to things concerning the church because when someone passionately believes they are doing the work of Christ they will often stop at nothing to follow through. Sadly, that often can mean they are blind to the hurt they are causing as they focus on their end goal. Do bad people work in the church? Probably. (although, that brings up a whole other topic of "is anyone truly "bad") So its probably safer to say, there are most likely people working for the church for the wrong reasons. But most of time, there are well intentioned people who have just let a sin that they struggle with get in the way of doing the work of God, and they don't see it because they see that they are doing the work of God they think they're supposed to be doing.
So, what's the answer then, because it's this dysfunction in church that causes so many people to run the other direction. The smallest conflict or the really big ones can feel so completely opposite of the real true love we are seeking when we seek out church, it's easy to want to distance ourselves from it. I'm often tempted to throw in the towel, despite my intense love for the Catholic Church and my church family. And I find myself thinking, if I am this tempted to give up the fight, then what can I say to those on the edges, to keep them from walking away too?
Recently, we've been talking a lot about how you say things. As we discipline our kids, as we argue with our spouses, that the actual words you say are so much less important as the WAY that you say them. You can say the exact same phrases, but say them with love and they are 100 times more effective. We always want our kids to know that we love them, even when they make the worst decisions. Just like we always want our spouses to know we love them, even when we completely disagree on an important issue. Because once there is fear that love isn't there anymore, whatever the real issue was is no longer being worked on. Instead, fear and hurt take center stage. They'll be no communicating your point after that, you now need to earn back their trust before you can go any further.
I know when I find myself in the midst of the "ugly" of church, there's a reason the words "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things" 1 Cor 13:7 have been echoing in my mind. Love is the only answer. If we want church to work, we have to step aside and just love. That means we have to admit that "our way" isn't the "only way" and that it's more important to speak words of love than to be right. Can I still disagree? Yes, but I have to do it with love. And just like in my marriage I have to pick my battles, realize I'm not the only one this is about, and be willing to change as much as I'm asking someone else to.
I can easily look back in my life and see where my focus on the end result caused me to completely miss the opportunities God was giving me to love someone. As my faith matures, I know no matter how important I deem the fight for Christ, never does it justify the hurt of another person. If I can ask myself, "am I acting with kindness and love?" and the answer is "no" then I have to step back. Because then, I've become the problem with church. 
"Love is patient, love is kind; love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth." 1 Cor 13:4-6.
I know, it probably seems like whatever issues you are facing are too big for this to work. That's kind of how I felt this morning. Discouraged. I'm only one person and I feel called to a problem that's so much bigger than I am. How can a tiny bit of love possibly fix it? Because this morning he showed me that a tiny bit of love is all He needs to work with:

My 4 year old son really wanted to blow bubbles. Since there was a snowstorm going outside and since I'm running for mom-of-the-year :) I decided we'd give it a try in the bathroom. It's multi-tasking because then once the suds get all over the floor, I'll wipe it up and ...ta-da! Clean floors! Anyway, we had fun blowing bubbles in the bathroom but I noticed quickly that the fun was short lived with each bubble as gravity quickly pulled them down to pop on the ground. Inside, in this enclosed bathroom, without the gentle breeze to take them up into the air, they fall as soon as they begin. Just like our efforts when we try to do it on our own. Without the Holy Spirit, we fail as soon as we start. But ask Him to enter in, and He takes us farther than we'd ever imagined possible.

God, I know you care more than we do about your church and about the people the church serves. Bless our work. Help us see when we are hurting instead of helping. Above all, help us to love in every situation, that truly we can share the light of Christ.

P.S. that was pretty awesome watching you pull that blog post together. You are good. :)

*A little disclaimer: While this post was spurred by a recent church meeting I attended, it's the result of many conversations and experiences over multiple years and not that meeting. If you would, please join me praying for our church community as we face some changes and work to better carry out the mission of the gospel. I'd love to pray for your church as well if you share the name in the comments.

Adopted through Christ

This Lent is extra special to me, because it started the day after our son Samuel's adoption day. I've been anxiously awaiting the day when I can share his photos with all of our friends and family. But it's interesting, as the day came and went, I realized that I wasn't as emotional as I thought I would be about it. I've heard so many stories about adoption days being a very big deal and expected to feel the same elation, but it really felt like just another day. I guess, to me, Samuel has been my son since the very minute I saw him. Holding him in my arms just solidified it. After we brought him home from the hospital, there were so few doubts that his birth mom or the social workers would change their mind, I was able to just let myself fall completely in love with him. So, honestly, it's a little odd going to court for them to say he's mine now when he's always been mine.
Now that it's "official" we are able to present him for baptism. And as we prepare for that event this Sunday, everywhere God has been reminding me that Lent is all about baptism. One of the things I love so much about our Catholic faith is that we believe we spend our whole lives continually committing ourselves to Christ. It's a great feeling, baptism. Knowing you love this God so much you are willing to give Him the only give of value that you have: yourself. Giving all, the good, the bad, the ugly no one else knows. And meeting Him in the grace that gives us the life we crave. Most of all, staying focused on the destination: union with Him in Heaven. No, we don't re-baptize ourselves, but think of the power of my commitment if each time I dip my fingers into the holy water and mark myself with the cross it is an outward sign of my hearts commitment: "this body belongs to Christ". When I genuflect before the blessed sacrament, how beautiful if each time my knee hits the floor my soul cries "I am yours, use me as you wish."
As we finalized my sons adoption and moved into Lent I understood again on a deeper level the love He has for us as well as my own worth.

"In love he destined us for adoption to himself through Jesus Christ, in accord with the favor of his will..."Eph 1:5

At the court hearing, the judge asked us if Samuel had any property or major real estate. Of course this was followed by some laughter. He's only 6 months old. In terms of money or net worth, he has nothing. They want to make sure we aren't just adopting him to "cash in" I guess. And as the verse rang in my head over and over that we were "adopted through Christ" I couldn't help but stand in awe of His great love. As a sinful person, I have nothing of worth to God to offer Him, but yet He still adopts me.
The judge went on to remind us that Samuel will be considered our child just as if we have given birth to him. Therefore, should we die, everything we have is his. That's what adoption in Christ means. That everything He has is ours. He offers me His grace in the sacrament of baptism, and over and over again in the other sacraments. But even more, He offers me his Kingdom.
This is where it gets hard, because truthfully, I don't deserve it. But that's the thing, it wasn't my choice for it to be given to me, it was a gift, freely given. But it is up to me to accept it. To Him, in terms of glory and power, I am a baby, I have nothing to offer. But the good news is that just like we didn't adopt Samuel for his real estate, He didn't adopt us for what we have to offer. He adopted us because WE are the value. We walked out of the courtroom the richest people in the world and for once, I saw when I looked at Samuel what God sees when He looks at me. If only I can hold on to that moment for the rest of my life. His gift to me is so enormous I can't wrap my head around it, but as I stare in the eyes of my beautiful adopted son, I finally feel worthy of it. And I know, that the only possible response to a gift that large, is the greatest one I have to give in return: the gift of myself.
Maybe it's been a long time since your baptism, maybe it's brand new, or maybe you've been waiting to take the plunge. No matter which, sit with Him, seek Him out in prayer, in service, any way you can this Lent, until you see it too: your worth. And then, wrap yourself in the comfort that even before it was "official" you were His all along.



*Stay tuned for Samuel's adoption story. I've been waiting 6 months to share it, but a couple more days won't hurt. :)

Faith Like Abraham

If you haven't already, please go read the daily Mass readings for today. You can see them here: http://www.usccb.org/bible/readings/013115.cfm

They are so good. I love how our church makes it so easy for us to read the bible by matching up old testament readings with the gospels that make them make so much sense. Both readings today on their own do a great job of teaching us about faith, but together, it really hits home.

I don't know about you, but I seem to bounce back and forth in my belief without often realizing it. It's not that I ever stop believing in God, but maybe just slowly start to forget just how GOOD He is, or just how much He cares for me and has a great plan for my life. You know, one moment something amazing happens and you believe, or you're waiting on something great and you just KNOW, no matter what, that God's going to come through. But then there are the times that we get discouraged, maybe pessimistic and we entertain thoughts that God's not in control of this situation, or let ourselves believe He's not concerned with it. Or maybe we just kind of forget to include Him in the mix at all, doing it on our own, going our own way without realizing that means we're not following Him.

Today, this story of Abraham was God's wake up call to me about just where my faith is at. What an amazing man who believed what God promised, even when it seemed impossible. How hard is it for me to often believe things that don't even seem that difficult? Why did he believe? Simply: "he thought that the one who had made the promise was trustworthy." Heb 11
God, give me faith like Abraham, and help me remember just how trustworthy you are.

And then, as if Abraham doesn't make me look bad enough, speaking of the descendants of Abraham it says :
"All these died in faith.
They did not receive what had been promised
but saw it and greeted it from afar and acknowledged themselves to be strangers and aliens on earth,
for those who speak thus show that they are seeking a homeland.
If they had been thinking of the land from which they had come,
they would have had opportunity to return.
But now they desire a better homeland, a heavenly one.
Therefore, God is not ashamed to be called their God,
for he has prepared a city for them."
They did not receive what had been promised... God, give me faith like these holy people, who never gave up on you. Even when they met death without having received their promise, they knew their God enough to know he was trustworthy. And they knew Him enough to desire a heavenly homeland more than an earthly one. Just like Jesus, who met death before receiving His promise.

God's timing is a tricky thing. We often must wait for God's promises to us. Usually not nearly as long as many of the Saints did, but they never come as quickly as we'd like them to. That's when I have to really draw closer to Him, because the more I know His heart, the more I know just how trustworthy it is, and I can confidently trust in His timing.

Then, I have to acknowledge that striving to obtain the faith that God asks of me will be an endless task on this earth. Even as the disciples are in the boat with Jesus, they lose faith. I'm sure I'll have so many more ups and downs along the way, but if I keep Jesus in my boat, even if my faith is to falter, surely He'll be there to get me back on track and reassure me that "the one who made the promise is trustworthy."

God, give me faith like Abraham. Jesus, give me faith like yours. Holy Spirit, quiet my heart as I wait.