You are My Sunshine

It's spring in Minnesota and this year all it does is rain. Every day. Cloudy, rainy, cold. The sun only peaks out about every 5 days or so for a few moments. The cows are getting stuck in the mud. Hardly anyone can plant their crops, and those that do are planting in the mud and praying they will still grow. And our bodies that craved the sunshine and warmth all through that longer-than-anyone-can-remember winter are still left wanting.
Our two littles are visiting their mom for two days. I was looking forward to being able to tackle some projects, fight with my washing machine and re-find the living room floor. And I have gotten so much done. I went to bad last night and still had energy left, what a weird feeling!! But the house is quiet. And even though it's easier, there's less joy.
Babies are so demanding, needing to be fed more often, held more often, played with instead of running off to play on their own. Its hard to take them anywhere, they get into everything, I'm constantly chasing them. They need sippy cups and outfit changes and of course those stinky diapers no one likes. But oh they are the joy of the family. I truly believe. This is why big families seem more jolly. Its one of those things you don't realize until it's gone suddenly. The way they find joy in the simplest things, in everything really. The way they love with their whole entire selves.
This is Gods gift to us, sunshine even on the cloudiest day. Amidst the brokenness and hurt of this world he sends a reflection of Himself, pure and ready to burst with joy and love and wanting to give it all to us. Can't see Him through the clouds? Don't worry, He's still there, and just to be sure we know here's a giggling baby playing peekaboo or even a teething baby who only wants to be held and go everywhere we go. This is His love sent down to us.
And oh how we need it. As badly as we all need the sun to shine, we need these little people in our lives to show us who God is and how He loves us when we have forgotten. To brighten our spirits and give us hope. To bring joy, sunshine to the endless string of cloudy days.
We forget this though. We see stinky diapers, and sticky floors and missed work opportunities and fill in the blank. And we wonder why every day is cloudy. And He longs to share His sunshine with us if only we would accept it.
All across our country we are in crisis, the news says. Millenials aren't saving enough money, Baby Boomers didn't plan well for retirement, and the worst problem of all, no one is having babies anymore and there aren't enough people for the workforce and to keep the economy strong. And God keeps wanting to send His love into our lives. He keeps pursuing us, keeps trying to break through the clouds. But we tend to run, to say "No" to His good gifts. We good Christians even, who have better things to do, long lists, things to accomplish, clean houses to feel good about, "enough" other children to care for. And yet, when the house is all clean, the sky is still cloudy. He keeps pursuing, He keeps giving himself to us in so many ways, but oh the sunshine that's waiting to burst into our lives if we would accept this gift He's waiting to give. And we won't get anything done, and the house will be a mess and our career will be on hold and if we're lucky we'll realize none of that matters as long as the sun is shining. Because can we ever have "enough" sunshine. Will there ever be too many children, too much Jesus in the world, in our lives?
You are my sunshine little ones. From the moment you entered our life more than 8 years ago there has not been a day that has been too gray. Thank you God for sending us sunshine, even on a cloudy day.

I Care: The Award that You Deserve

8 years ago Dan and I fell into the role of foster parents. Truly, I think we had always talked about adopting even before our miscarriages, but we never really considered fostering. And then Nathaniel landed in our laps, and we started doing foster parent classes and before we knew it, we had accidentally found our calling. What sometimes looks heroic from the outside, is really just incredibly simple. Things that God asked of us that we said yes to. They aren't always "normal" I suppose, but aren't always "impossible" either.
A few months ago, I got a call from a social worker at the MSSA, informing us that we were selected as Foster Family of the Year for the State of Minnesota. It is an incredible honor. And in the least disrespectful way, it also felt like a sucker-punch in the gut. Here are the thoughts swirling in my brain as I'm trying to digest the information from this call and not sound like a complete idiot.
First, clearly this committee has not met me in person...People who know us in person will laugh at us receiving this award. I mean, my friend and I used to argue over which of us was the winner of the "worst mom of the year" title. I am surely much closer to winning that one, maybe the numbers got mixed up?
Second, this is the sucker-punch part, we just said a painful good-bye to the 13 month old son we raised from birth. We are still grieving. We are in that post-transition "we hate foster care" phase and you have chosen this moment to say "sorry for your loss but here's an award to make you feel better."  Obviously, the selection committee didn't know about our loss and giving us an award was not meant to inflict pain. But our current situation made it hard not to feel a little hurt like an award was meant to fill the hole left by his absence in our family.
Third, part of the nomination included our "adopting a child with special needs." This always throws me off because Bella is so incredibly normal to me. I just don't feel like she has special needs. And I know when people make me really think about it I realize that she's not talking much yet at age 4 and she still needs more medical care and more help with some things, but I would guess those that know her well would agree that she's pretty much just a normal kid.
And maybe that's really the bottom line of my hesitation with this award. It hasn't ever felt to us that anything we have done has been extraordinary. Ok, I know taking in 3 babies who turned into 3 one year olds, parenting 3 toddlers, and now having 6 kids is not everyone's idea of normal. But what I mean is what might seem impossible from far away, really gets very simple when faced with a decision to care about someone. And when that decision quickly turns into life as you know it, you find yourself doing something you used to look at from afar and think you could never do.
Of course, I know when I take a step back that being foster and adoptive parents is different in a lot of ways. I know we deal with birth families, and lots of questions and hurt feelings, effects of trauma and abuse and drug and alcohol exposure, and of course the eternal unknown and worry of "will I be able to protect this child who has come to trust me to do just that?"
But those things all slowly just became our normal. And a lot of other foster and adoptive parents deal with those things with much more skill and grace than we do.
I didn't tell many people about the award. I suppose because it seems a little silly to us to be honored for doing something we consider so normal, and maybe we feel a little undeserving, and maybe a little bit because of that sucker-punch piece as well. But I'm sharing it tonight, well because it got posted on facebook and I can't keep it a secret anymore...but also because I realize the very ordinary reason we won this award and the plea I'd like to make for you to join us.

The only thing we did to win this award was CARE. We just care about the kids who are strangers when we get a phone call, and need to become our family when they enter the door. Kids don't just need food and water and a roof over their heads. They need a family. They need parents who care about them and care about what happens to them and look out for them. And Dan and I have done this, have loved kids as our own, have seen them for who they really are, individual and unique and so important to the world. We have been protective of them and advocated for what's best for them. But isn't that completely normal? Wouldn't you do the same if faced with the situation?
I think a lot of you already do. I've written before about the importance of the support system of a foster family. So many of you are the reason we can care about children, because you love us first, we can love them. Because you welcome them into our extended families, and babysit extra kids, and hold them on your laps at church, pray for them and truly care about what happens to them, they are well cared for.
In March, two more kids joined our family. My heart isn't ready and someone else would surely be able to give them more time. But there is such a great need for foster families. For others who will care. I know that you do, or that you would, if the phone was ringing in your house instead of mine. But it is one thing to feel like we care, and another to ACT like we care. Can you take a baby step and do a foster care class to see what it's all about? Or read about it: try this article Ten Questions Couples Should Ask before Becoming Foster Parents
Can you commit to being a solid relationship for someone who doesn't have anyone else? (even kids who experience extremely difficult home environments can do well if they have just one consistent adult who cares about them). Can you care enough to offer a kind word, a prayer or a hand to someone who is struggling? When we received our award, the keynote speaker, a Suicide survivor, Kevin Hines spoke of his hope that even one stranger would ask him if he was ok before his suicide attempt. Did everyone that saw him that day not care? Or were they just afraid?
I reflected on this a lot in the middle of Holy Week. There were so many people who cared about Jesus, so many people who loved him and followed him. Where were they when he was being beaten? Did they stop caring about him? The ones he healed? What happened to them? Did they really not care? Or were they just afraid?
Fear seems to hinder caring often. We fear change, fear the unknown, fear the million things that might go wrong, fear how helping someone else might hurt us, fear making a mistake or failing, and we are so very afraid of what others might think.
Please stop to consider today, if the devil is working hard to make you fearful of something, it might be he is very afraid of what might happen if you succeed.
There is a great need in Pipestone County and a lot of other counties for families who will care about children. There is a great need in our world for people that will care about the people they encounter throughout their day. Would you take these sweet hands if they reached out to hold yours? Of course you would!!

Dan and I don't do anything extraordinary. We simply care. You do too. For those of you who are our incredible support system, you are the ones who really deserve the award. We could not love these children if we weren't first loved by you. And your prayer, helping hands and constant words of encouragement and understanding are the only reason we can continue. For those of you who are feeling any inclination toward caring for children in need, trust me, if Dan and I can do it, you probably can too. Probably better. Likely a lot better. Read that article I linked above even if you have doubts, it addresses a lot of them. And finally, remember what Jesus said? "Let the children come to me and do not prevent them, for the kingdom of heaven is found in such as these."

Super-Mom and the Saints: To Discourage and Inspire

I've always been intimidated by "super-moms". You know one I'm sure, they always look their best, they are on every committee and at every social function, their kids only eat the healthiest foods, their house is spotless and they never EVER speak a harsh word. Super-moms can inspire us to strive to be better, but more often they discourage us. We come in late to the only social outing we've been to in months, realize as soon as we see her that we haven't showered in two days. We already feel like we shouldn't have left the house. And then she starts talking about how wonderful her children are and how much she enjoys being a mom, and that's when we start to think we must be doing something wrong, because we love our children but wow are they naughty sometimes and some days we have to send them all to separate rooms just to get everyone to stop fighting and some days we have to walk to the mailbox just to be "away" from our little blessings before we lose it. And the more and more we hear from this super-star mom who has done all the research on essential oils and 65 discipline strategies to raise a confident child, the more and more we begin to wonder if we even have what it takes to be a mom. We start to think parenting should be reserved for those few who seem to have it all figured out.

I was reflecting on this last year on All Saint's Day, as our church celebrates the lives of some of the greatest known Catholics in the world. They are people who were super-star Christians. They loved to the point of death. They gave up all they had. They imitated Christ by touching the lepers, teaching the masses, giving all that they owned to the poor. It might be easy to take a quick look at their incredible accomplishments and be discouraged. "I could never give that much" we might think. "I'm not capable of that kind of faith, to leave everything behind, to suffer or die for Jesus." "I have too many failings to ever be a saint."


But the beauty of Saints is in their stories. They weren't perfect. They did have sins. They struggled with doubt, with fear, with anger, with so many temptations. They weren't overly talented or some even educated. I can look to saints and allow them to inspire me because they have walked in my shoes. They have struggled with these same sins, these same feelings of failure, and they have allowed Gods grace to take over. Some of them, many of them, never ever saw the fruit of their sacrifice on this earth. When I read their stories, I know I really can be a saint, because it has so very little to do with me, and so much to do with the grace of God. Because these saints were so imperfect, and God brought them to perfection, it means he can do the same with me. It means there's a contribution I can make, even sinful me.


Super-moms could do this same thing for all of us, but we all need to realize something: They aren't really super. Let's be honest, there are a lot of really incredible moms out there, and that is a wonderful thing, but none of them are perfect. Some of them could do better to take off their masks and let the rest of the world see their flaws, and in doing so they could inspire us all. But most of the time, they aren't really hiding their flaws. We see them as "super" because we see things in them that we can't master. She always brings delicious homemade baked goods and I always have to peel the price tag off of mine.  Her hair and makeup is always perfect and I didn't even look in the mirror yet this morning. Or my favorite, her children are so well behaved and mine....well a lot of you have met them.  But while I'm admiring her baking skills, she's admiring someone else's patience and wishing she could be like that "super-mom".  She really is just like you, she just has a different failing.


And while I have yet to have anyone admit to this, if you really do believe you are super-mom...then you never really will be. One of the greatest traits of the saints was their ability to see their flaws and offer them to God and diligently work to correct them. Because we can't fix what we don't realize is broken. So that means if you feel like you're a very long way from being a super-mom or a saint there's good news: you're already on your way.


As we added two new children to our home this month, I've been hearing a lot of really nice and heartfelt comments from people. But they put a "super-mom" cape on me that I have no interest in wearing. So hear me when I say that I love your kind words and they lift me up on days when I am struggling, but I NEED you to also know that I am so far from the mom I want to be. When you say "I don't know how you do it." I usually respond, "I don't." Meaning, I don't have it all together, we make it through each day, and some days I'm not confident we will! Most days I do not speak in the loving tone I would like to. Most days I have no idea how to teach my kid to stop pushing his sister down. Most days, when we go out in public I'm just praying we can all get in and out of the car safely and I don't lose anyone. I usually feel like we are such a mess at any type of public outing that there's no need to remind others I'm not wearing a cape. I'm thinking about the pile of dishes I left in the sink, the fact that I have to make a path to walk through certain parts of the house, and that my kids ate McDonalds twice this week, and [please stop hitting your brother!!!] that I can't finish a sentence without interrupting it to break up a fight or chase a runaway kid. But apparently sometimes the chaos I see doesn't translate to the rest of the world, who see their own struggle with their one or two children and feel discouraged because they couldn't possibly imagine parenting six.


You could. You can. You WILL do whatever God has laid before you, and you will do it with grace. Not because you are so wonderful, but because you aren't. And because you know it. And because you will surrender it to the grace of God, and He will raise you up to whatever He has called you to.

"I consider that the sufferings of this present time are as nothing compared with the glory to be revealed for us." Rom 8:18

5 Things We Say to Our Kids that We Still Need to Learn

There are some familiar phrases we've probably all heard as children and we hear ourselves repeating them now as parents ourselves where they take on new meaning. I've noticed, as I say these phrases to my children, I hear them also as whispers from God. As our Good Father, so often I know He is speaking these same phrases, same lessons to my heart that unfortunately I still have not fully mastered.
The first of those and most often used in our house is
1. Can't you please just get along with your brother?
My mother used to ask for it for every birthday and holiday. "I don't need any other gift than for you and your siblings to just stop fighting for one day," she would say exhausted. We would roll our eyes, "no, something REAL mom!" As in, buying a gift would be much easier than that impossible thing you just asked of us. And why does that matter anyway? Except now I'm a parent, and I'm constantly asking my children to stop fighting and to just play together nicely for five minutes! I do get why this mattered to her so much. First, it's exhausting, breaking up their fights all the time, listening to them treat each other so terribly, comforting their cries, trying to convince them to work it out. Secondly, its annoying, seeing how they are all making each other miserable when they instead should be having fun. What they're fighting about is so trivial! And finally, I just want them to love each other! I love them. I don't want to love them separately, I want us all to love each other as a family!!
And maybe God whispers...that's how I feel too. Why can't you just get along with _________... Why are you making yourselves miserable when you should be having fun? Why do you keep hurting each other? I love them, and I love you, and I really want us all to love each other as a family.


Or how about this one:
2. I don't care if you didn't make the mess, I asked you to clean it up!
We've all said this as parents haven't we? And we've all also as grown adults felt the injustice of cleaning up a mess we didn't make, doing someone else's work. A mom at a parenting class asked what to do when she asks both of her daughters to clean the room they share and only one does the work. Should they both get the reward? Should one be punished? She was worried more about the daughter doing all the work and that it might discourage her. I told her, from the perspective of an employer (I was an HR director at the time), her daughter is learning an essential life skill, and she shouldn't take it from her. Overwhelmingly in the workplace this is the conflict; someone isn't pulling their share of the weight. Someone else feels like they're doing all the work, or doing work they don't think is their responsibility. Do you know which employees are successful? The ones who just do the work anyway. It gets noticed eventually and paints you in a much brighter light when you aren't the one calling attention to it. But truthfully, we're talking less here about problems in the workplace and more about problems in relationships and in the world. People are seriously messing it up all the time. People sin and make mistakes and they hurt other people and it all crashes into each other and we wake up to look around our world and wars are going on and people are abusing and killing their own children and we know we've done a lot of bad things in our life, but this was a mess we did not make. Whether it's on a global scale or a mess in our own family or community, its our first reaction to say "but I didn't do it! It's not my problem!" Very few things get my 7 year old angrier than asking him to clean up messes that his younger siblings made.  But I ask him to help sometimes because they're too young to do the job well enough, (they'll just smear the jelly around if they try to wipe it up right?) or sometimes I know it would just take them forever and he can speed up the process of cleaning up the toys that seem to cover every inch of our house. "It's a part of being a family, helping each other out," we explain to him. And maybe God whispers the same..."I know you didn't MAKE the mess, but you CAN clean it up, and they can't, or you WILL clean it up, and they won't, and seriously, help a God out here, because I really just need it cleaned up, it doesn't matter who does it, it's part of being a family."


This takes us right to the response I give when someone says "that's not fair!":
3. Life isn't fair.
This is also what I told that mom who was worried about her daughters room cleaning being "fair". Life isn't. And yet, we try so hard to make it fair for our kids. We agonize over getting them all the same amount of gifts for Christmas, we keep score in our heads daily of how much time we've spent with each one and if we give one a compliment give the other one too, and if we are handing out crackers or especially cookies we better be sure to give the EXACT amount to each child so that it's fair! But this really sets our kids up for disappointment, because then they expect everything to be fair. And in fact, we all know it's not. Someone else will get the thing you want before you do. And someone will ALWAYS have more money than you, more stuff than you, more friends than you...fill in the blank. Do you know what happens when kids who have always gotten the same amount of cookies as everyone else suddenly get shorted? They throw a massive tantrum. Do you know what happens when kids who have never even gotten cookies get handed one cookie when others get three? They smile and eat the cookie. You see the ugliness of it, when you're handing out treats to children and someone throws a tantrum and won't appreciate what they have been given because they're so concerned about what someone else got. Why is it so easy to see it as ugly behavior in children, and not when we are throwing our tantrums about not getting that thing we've been praying about that everyone else seems to have? We tend to look fairly similar to that spoiled child I assume as we seem to fail to see what we have been given, only focused on what others have that we don't. And maybe God whispers in the most loving way...your tantrums kind of make me chuckle, especially when your face gets red and you yell and throw things...




And this would lead us to the most simple and also the hardest...
4. Be Patient
I have four kids, and sometimes I'm afraid I'm going to be squashed to death as I'm trying to hand out a snack or treat in the kitchen. Just give me a second to open the box! I have to yell at them to sit on their chairs or I'll never get it open with them trying to pull me down. They're all crying or whining, quite sure they're starving because it's been twenty minutes since the last meal, and it takes twice as long to get their food because they can't just wait. Have you heard of the marshmallow test done by psychologist Walter Mischel studying delayed gratification? They take a child into a room and set a marshmallow in front of them. They tell them, you can eat the marshmallow now, but if you wait to eat it until I come back in the room then you can have two marshmallows. The videos of this will make you laugh as the kids agonize over the wait and my favorite a littler girl who starts eating it before the lady even leaves the room. We can all laugh about which of us even as adults would struggle to wait those few minutes. But this is what God offers us. So often, the better thing is waiting if we will only be patient. But so few times are we actually patient. I always visualize my 4 year old on the floor crying because he wanted to play the iPad, and I had told him if he would just wait 10 minutes he could play. But he couldn't do it. He could not stop crying about the fact that he couldn't have it immediately, so he never got it. This is so simple. Waiting involves doing almost nothing. But this is hard, because it takes faith. We don't often know if it will be 10 minutes, 10 years or a lifetime's wait for the thing we're waiting for. To be patient and believe that something is coming even when there's no glimpse of it on the horizon...you'd have to really trust the person making the promise. And God says "I am trustworthy. I have always been faithful. (And He probably doesn't sharply say "crying won't get you anything!" But I sure do, and it holds true in this context as well.)




Finally, I've only said this a few times but each time I have I've heard it bounce back right at me...
5. You'd help me most if you would do what I asked you to do, not what you want to do.
My kids like to help. And sometimes I ask them to do something to help a situation, but they have already decided how they would like to help so they do that instead. It's always one of those, thanks-but-no-thanks kind of moments where they have instead now made the problem worse in a way they could not see from where they were standing. Like when someone comes running in to help clean up a mess and steps in it instead. "Nope, could have gotten the paper towels myself, just wanted you to keep your sisters out of here so they wouldn't step in it, but since you are all now are covered in poop, thanks for helping..."  Sometimes, it's not even that they made it worse, just that it would have been BEST had they done what they were asked to do. We were each put here with a purpose, and as a part of a "family" we each have our tasks and roles and things God has set us here to do. But sometimes we don't like this particular task. Sometimes, it's pretty quiet and in the background when we'd rather be in the spotlight or the center of the action. Sometimes, we're wanted on stage when we'd rather be scrubbing a floor all by ourselves. Often actually, I think we are asked to "help", to do our part in ways that we don't want to or don't particularly enjoy (or don't THINK we will anyway). But for the most part, we can chose. We can embrace these roles or we can try to help in the way we want to. Sometimes, maybe we make it worse in a way only God could foresee. Sometimes, maybe we're still helping, but there was a better way we'll never know. It's easy to tell once it's over, you're either covered in poop or your not.




We'll spend a lifetime learning and relearning these lessons that we try and expect our small children to learn. We'll be much harder on them when they get it wrong. And we'll expect them to trust us when we constantly fail them. But God is patient with us. He won't be hard on us when we get it wrong for the hundredth time. He won't be annoyed when we don't trust him even though He's never failed us. He is our perfect Father, who gives us exactly what we need, no more and no less, to become holy. He probably won't give us everything we want or even what we think we need. He will comfort us and cry with us when we are disappointed or sad. He will continue over and over again to encourage us to get along with our brother. And He will keep asking us to help in the way He knows is best. And yes He could do it better and faster Himself but He knows it's good for us and we like to feel important. So the next time these familiar phrases float off my tongue without a thought, I'll take the lesson to heart, and I'll try to show the same understanding to my children that God does to me as I try and fail and try again. And I'll pray that some of the time, with His grace, I'll get it right. And I might just learn I really do enjoy helping out my brothers and sisters...

Immigration: We Actually All Agree

I should start by saying I have not yet taken a definitive "side" in the current arguments about immigration reform. What I do read and hear though strikes me so much as someone sitting on the "fence" of the border wall debate. (Ha. No more bad jokes, I promise.) It's easy to see the benefits of both arguments when you haven't taken a side. But what strikes me the most when I listen, is that I think we all actually agree, which is incredible, and yet makes perfect sense. We don't agree on how to get there, but we do agree on one extremely important thing. Human life matters and should be protected and valued.
Some want to protect the precious human life here, in their own homes.
Some want to protect the precious human life in other countries who need a safe place or a chance for a better life.
Some want to protect the working class citizens in our country to make sure they can maintain the standard of living for their families.
It's all about people. Wanting people to be ok and safe. We actually agree on something: life matters. This is big.
I hope we can all take a minute and realize just how big this is. We ALL agree life is more important than money, than progress, than differences of opinion, than stuff, than ....fill in the blank.
You have no idea how much this realization makes my heart soar. In a world that sometimes seems so confused and lost, we have still not really forgotten the most important thing embedded deep into our souls: we matter.


So why are we still fighting? I believe it's because some of us disagree about how to best protect EACH human life, and because some of us might disagree about who needs protecting. I don't have the answers. I know our leaders and representatives have spent hundreds of hours contemplating and researching the solutions and I have just read a few articles online.


I do know, as I pray for our country and our world, my prayer is that we stop seeing problems and start seeing people. Because we agree, people matter. And if we make decisions always keeping the person in mind, we will do the best we can with this broken world.


We are foster parents, and we deal constantly with a social services system and court system that sometimes fail to see children as individual people.


Unfortunately, our systems seem to think emotion needs to be removed when making these types of decisions. We've heard it often from case workers and attorneys "emotionally remove myself."
And when that happens, when we remove emotion, we stop seeing people. We see cases, numbers, files, statistics. We don't see individuality, futures, feelings, hearts. How can we make decisions about people, who are clearly made with emotion, without emotion? Maybe we have emotion for a reason, because what would our existence really be like without it?


Whether it's our foster children, refugee children, immigrants or inmates, they all just become another statistic. Our foster son who lived with us his whole first year of life who was moved a few months ago, he is just another file on a big stack of paperwork in someone's office. He is just more work that someone with a big case load doesn't have time to do. But to us he is everything, he is a son, brother, grandson, nephew. He lights up our world. His laugh is incredible, his smile is like no other. He will never be duplicated again on this earth.
You see statistics about police officers but I see my sister-in-law who won't fully exhale until her officer-husband returns home from his evening shift to their 5 children.
You see statistics about illegal immigrants but I won't ever forget the fear in a young girls eyes as she told me the instructions she has from her parents should they ever not come home from work one day.
See, we group things that are alike, that's how we make statistics. But no two people really are, so every grouping fails us. Every statistic tells us the lie that certain people might be replaceable, might be the same. We are emotionally removed from people we've never met, stories we've never heard. We don't see brothers, sons, sisters, daughters, here in America needing protection, across the border needing safety, and across the world dying for our help.
We emotionally remove ourselves. Especially in this age where so many heart-wrenching situations can reach us each day through our phones and computers, we emotionally check-out as a means of self preservation.
BUT, will you ponder with me today, if we agree that life matters, if we agree that there is no more precious thing on this planet, then lets make the effort to emotionally invest today. Lets make the effort to care about that life. And maybe, the heart of the problem might not be that we don't care about other lives, but that we care about our own just a little more. But if we believe what I think we believe: that we deserve to live, that we deserve to be cared about, that we matter....then doesn't that mean my brother next to me matters and deserves the same? Then doesn't that mean someone's son across the ocean or the border deserves the same?
Maybe you can't possibly care for my little boy or think you can help a police officer or a refugee from so far away.  But could you be the change that our world needs, by taking the time to care about someone even though it's not your responsibility? Because I think if we really lived like other people matter, the people right around us, in our families, at the office, in the community, I think we really could be the solution.
Let's stop saying it's not our problem. Let's stop blaming politicians. Let's start noticing individuals for their uniqueness and realizing another like them will never ever exist again. And then treat them like they are that precious. Because they are.
A year ago, when Tiny was just a few weeks old, I was visited by a new friend who had recently lost her 22 year old son. She told me his story and all of the lives he had impacted with his loving heart and endless generosity in just 22 short years. And as she looked at Tiny, laying there sleeping, she waved her hand toward him and said how clearly she could remember the day her son lay there just like that as a newborn baby and doctors said because of his health issues he would "never amount to anything." Her voice cracked and tears rolled as she said those words. But he proved them wrong. He showed them God had a purpose for him, and in his short life, he loved more than most people ever do in their long ones. His family never gave up on him, and because of it, the whole world is a better place. (Read more about him here: Scott's Impact)
I keep thinking back to that image of him, sleeping on the bench on our deck on a warm fall day. My friend saw HIM that day. Not just a child, not a case, but a unique boy and she could imagine the impact that he could make. She would challenge all of you today to know the difference that you can make in this world, and to do the little things or the big things that you have been put here for. She would quote St. Catherine of Sienna "Be who you were meant to be and you will set the world on fire."
Maybe, there's someone you can chose to care about today. Choose to emotionally invest. Choose to give your time to care about. We really need you too. We can all agree on that.

A Little Light for the Darkness

My friend pulled up while I was untangling Christmas lights on the front porch. I had them all rolled up nicely last year when I put them away, but the kids got into them before I put them up and now I had 5 strands all in one big knot. I knew when they didn't come free easily at first that I didn't really have the time to mess with them. What was supposed to be a 5 minute project was turning into more than an hour. But I just kept trying. Sometimes pretty desperately just pulling and shaking hoping for the best... and when that didn't work, taking more time to look closely to maneuver each strand free. I took a break when my friend arrived and returned to it later a few times throughout the day. I should have been doing other things, but I finally had them all free and quickly wrapped them around the rails of the front porch. I wasn't expecting it to be pretty, I just wanted light. The kids love Christmas lights, and I knew I didn't have the time or patience to put up a lot, but I wanted them to have at least a little something to look at. And the first night, when it got dark and they popped on, I was pleasantly surprised with how nicely they did look even though I really only spent 5 minutes hanging them up. But I was more surprised how much I really needed to see the light.

It's so dark this time of year. The sun didn't officially rise today until 7:57 am, and set at 4:51 pm. That's less than 9 hours of light in a 24 hour day. More darkness than light. It's how our life has been feeling the last few months. Its sometimes how we view the world when we turn on the news.


This is why we celebrate Christmas now. The church planted Christmas here in this dark time for a reason. Because the world was dark and broken. There was so much war and hatred and there was such little hope. But then God sent Light into the world. He didn't come in blaring or with a strike of lightening, but quietly, so quietly that no one would have noticed at all had it not been for that star and those angels. He plopped a light in the middle of all that darkness and from now on the darkness would never overcome the light.


I need to look out onto my front porch and see light when the sun is fading before I've even begun to think about supper time. When the dark feels like it isolates us from the neighbors we can see in the light. Their houses haven't moved but our perceptions of them change at night. If it weren't for their lights, I wouldn't realize they are still there at all. Darkness separates us from people.


In the light of day I can see beauty, God's creation all around me. My body needs the sun to actually survive. I am made this way, to long for it. So its natural that this season of so much darkness doesn't feel right.


I am also made to long for holiness, goodness, righteousness. It's natural that I feel so out of place in a world that is so filled with sin, hurt, death.


There are two approaches to dealing with the darkness closing in. We can just give in and accept this is the reality of the season we are in OR...we can put up our own lights.


Last week I was having a particularly sad week when I picked Nathaniel up from school which included walking down the hallway just an hour before the beginning of Christmas break. The entire building was radiating joy. Every teacher was smiling, students were filled with expectation and excitement. It was infectious. Halfway through the walk I felt lighter, and by the time I left the building I was beaming. I sent up a prayer of thanksgiving for this wonderful Christian school that my son gets to attend, and I got back in the car with a lifted spirit. It was beautiful to see the Christian mission in action in that way, truly sharing the JOY of the gospel.


I'm sure there were plenty people in the school that day that had reasons to be sad. This season of Christmas especially we have been keeping in mind those who are finding this season a difficult one. As we are missing our little boy, we think of so many others we know who are spending their first Christmas's without their loved ones.  We also remember how hard Christmas used to be when we were mourning the loss of the babies we never got to hold in our arms. This season that is supposed to be so joyful can feel just the opposite when the people we love aren’t here to share in the joy.

But this is actually exactly WHY we celebrate.  We aren’t celebrating all that is good in this world but we’re celebrating that the world is broken and hurting and pretty wrong sometimes and God sent his son here to enter into it with us and save us from it. The world was dark, and he sent the light. In this season, when there is more darkness than light, we hang lights out on our front porches, and light up the darkness. Nathaniel's school did that for me last week; tossed some light into my darkness.

This is the gift (reminder) of Christmas for all of us: That everyone has a reason to celebrate, especially those in their darkest moments, because Jesus came exactly to save us from them, to bring light to the darkest places, hope to the most hopeless situations. I can’t see a solution for so many of the situations we encounter and are wrapped up in every day with foster care, but He promises to fix it all someday and only asks me to trust him until I see His face again. So until then, we celebrate, and those of us who don’t feel like celebrating this year are the ones who have most reason too! We're the ones that really need to be saved from this world. And if we've lost hope, maybe it's because we placed our hope in this world, and not in the one who created it.

And when our hope is in Jesus, then the darkness will never overtake us. And this is a reason to celebrate.

Every year, our family puts on pajamas and santa hats, fills the largest bowl we have with popcorn and jumps in the car. Our favorite Christmas CD goes in and we drive around looking for the best Christmas lights and dropping off some goodies to our friends. Every time I load up the car with 4 kids, it still feels empty 2 months later. Someone is missing. I was tempted not to go at all. The darkness would really prefer I just stay home and not venture out into the world in the dark. But I know what's out there even though I can't always see it through the darkness. I know if I just take a few steps in faith I'll find the light. So I put my santa hat on and hopped in the car. And there are a lot of challenging things and fun things about having 3 pre-school age kids, but one of the best has to be driving around looking at Christmas lights. The sense of wonder in a 3 and 4 year old is fabulous. Every single light they saw got a "woah!!!" "Wow!!" One strand across the roof of a house, one star on a light pole, or a whole yard decked out. It was all so incredible to them.

 

 

 

I don't have a lot to offer, my measly string of lights wrapped around the deck railing hardly seems like a contribution. And yet, it's lighting up the darkness, it's bringing a little hope. I don't have a lot to offer right now while I'm just trying to survive each day as a grieving mom of 4 instead of 5. But I'll trust that Jesus will use whatever I can offer to bring a little bit more light to earth.

We celebrate the season of Christmas now for two weeks, because we have good reason to celebrate. Would you keep your lights on for the next two weeks? Because after all the family celebrations are over and the last gift is unwrapped, this dark time of year can get quite long and lonely for a lot of people, especially those who are missing someone. But your light, whether its a strand of bulbs on your front porch or the smile on your face when you visit or an unexpected phone call or letter, will brighten up that darkness.

Prayers offered for you tonight if this Christmas has been a difficult one. Praying you see the light and the joy of the HOPE that we are saved from all of this heartbreak and that He's going to bring a little light until then!! Pray for me too, I'd really appreciate it!

What Does it Mean to Carry Someone?

For the last 11 years I've been carrying other human beings. First inside my body, later cradled as delicately as glass in my hands, then on my hip, and in rowdy piggy-back rides years later. I noticed one day after a year with 3 babies and then a year with three toddlers that the skin on my right arm where I tend to hold babies on my hip more often is actually permanently wrinkled from being stretched like that for so long. Ah unexpected hazards of motherhood.
Carrying a child is a natural thing. They need us. They can't reach and I can help, so I do. They can't walk and I can get them where they need to go, so I do. They are lonely and just want to come along, so I bring them along. Sometimes its an airplane ride full of giggles and stomach turning drops, and sometimes its a horse-y ride where the goal is getting bucked off. And sometimes, its a scraped knee or bumped head or brother hurt me and a snuggle will make everything ok. No matter what the reason, I love carrying them. Some days of course, the weight of their bodies gets the best of me, and that's probably good, because I would probably carry them too much otherwise. Its a burden, a stress to my body, to carry someone else. And it's also such a joy. A joy that's greater than the burden.
I held my infant niece a couple weeks ago and I couldn't believe how much I missed holding a baby. I remember when it felt like a burden, getting up again in the middle of the night because someone missed me and wanted to be held in my arms. I remember when my arms were so tired because I'd held that teething baby all day while I loaded the dishwasher and washing machine with my other free arm. It would be easier and faster with two hands, I'd think. But now thinking of all that I can get done with my two free hands makes me just sit on the floor and cry. You won't realize how much you'll miss carrying someone, what a gift it truly is.

But I'm not talking about just children today. What does it really mean to carry someone?


Last weekend I watched my husband, along with his brothers and cousins, carry their uncle's body to his grave. I watched their bodies strain under the weight, but the strain on their face was the reality that this was the final goodbye. This didn't seem natural. These young men had all once been carried by this man, who they looked up to, and now instead they were carrying him.






What does it mean to carry someone?


So many times in my life, when I have experienced something so hard, the death of our babies, the loss of a foster child, there have been people who have carried me. They have lifted me in prayer, listened to me cry for hours, brought food, cleaned my house, even painted my living room when I was on bed-rest, but most of all they helped me carry the emotional burden of whatever I was going through because I didn't have to do it alone. The lifted some of the weight of a burden that was too heavy just for me. Sometimes, maybe almost all of it.






I also think if you are carrying someone it means you have once been carried.


Obviously my children only grow to love because they have been loved. They grow to care for others because they have been cared for. My husband can carry his uncle because his uncle taught him to take care of people.






And I think if you carry someone it also means you will someday again be carried.


What a beautiful moment, watching those young men carry the man who once carried them. And in so many relationships, in so many ways, when we help others, then we are helped in return. When we give not expecting to receive, we usually receive so much more. I think about the wisdom he shared with them as they worked on tractors and contemplated things a lot heavier than bolts and metal. He was carrying them then yet, as young men, even young fathers meddling through financial decisions, work, relationships and parenting. And then, they began to carry him. To doctors appointments, through tough diagnosis's, through treatments and phone calls just to pass the time, and finally, to God. What each was receiving was so much more than what they were giving.






I think having been carried means we carry others better.


Once we've been carried though something difficult in life, we tend to notice when others need to be carried when maybe we wouldn't have noticed before. We relate. We understand. We can be more compassionate. Each new suffering I realize how selfish I have been in the past. I realize how I just didn't understand what someone was going through. I really didn't realize how much they needed to be carried or exactly how they needed to be helped. And I try to open my eyes, to notice more often when and what someone needs.


But beyond noticing, I need to lend a hand. And not just a passing, "I'll pray for you" or a pat on the back. To carry someone means to commit my whole self, to be ready for the whole weight of their burden, and to see it through. The same way those young men committed to carrying their uncle.


It might take a lot of time, it might be a huge sacrifice. And I might feel ill-equipped and just too tired from my own struggles. But I think, the true secret to carrying others and being carried is that we must first be carried by Jesus, in whom we receive all of our strength. "it is a sign of the fidelity born of love, for those who put their faith in God can also be faithful to others. They do not desert others in bad times; they accompany them in their anxiety and distress, even though doing so may not bring immediate satisfaction." Rejoice and Be Glad, Pope Francis 2018


If I put my faith in God, I can be faithful to others. If I allow God to carry me, I will be able to carry others.


This is the message of the cross, in order to help we must be brought to our lowest. We must need in order to give. We must be humiliated in order to hold power.
I am being carried right now. By friends who listen and share their company when the quiet days in my house get too long. By meals shared. By so much PRAYER. I am so incredibly grateful to be carried by you and by God. I don't enjoy being having to be carried, I would much rather be the carrier, but here is where God has allowed me to be, so I will open my eyes and take in the lessons. I will appreciate that God is using this to help me grow in virtue, to grow in mission, so that I can better carry someone else someday. Because today good people lifted my burden with a visit, a text message and an email. Today I could breathe easier than yesterday and could be joyful with my children. Because someone carried me, I could carry my children. Can you ease someone's burden today?




"We love because He first loved us." 1 Jn 4:19