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.