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.