Quiet strength & family

My last post was about the bit of wisdom handed to my children during their belt promotion ceremony.  I couldn't wait to hear what my OA's words of wisdom would include.  It's a very interesting thing to hear a man's interpretation of another man; it is something I think more men need to experience more often.

Why it shocked me, I will never know.  Maybe because it's something that I feel every single day.  Something that I have written about and acknowledged and know in my inner most core to be every bit true:  quiet strength.  It almost felt odd to have it spoken in a room full of people.  Like a hidden treasure was being exposed for all to see.  Again, tears swelled high and threatened to spill over onto my cheeks.  And then another word family mentioned:  family...a man with quiet strength investing in his family.

That's my man.  That's what I have the privilege of seeing every single day.  I was watching him sleep the other evening, and I realized that he makes me want to be a better person, a better wife, a better mother, a better homemaker, a better home educator, just better.  I don't think that I have recognized that until recently.  My Hero has changed.  He's always been remarkable, but something still and small has overcome him.  He credits reading his Bible.  We both credit God.  I don't even hold my breath waiting in anxious anticipation for the good to disappear anymore.

My precious, amazing God---so overwhelmingly gracious to give me everything my heart could ask for and desire:  a man with a strength loud enough to calm my crazy ways yet soft enough to wait as my fragile and bruised heart mended and slowly exposed itself to his.  What a beautiful picture of His love for us.

Deep-thankful-sigh 

Patience

Tonight my children were promoted to yellow belts in their Martial Arts class.  It was a proud moment.  I am the ever present Mom in the corner pinching herself willing the tears NOT to flow...sheesh...such a SAP!?

Their "Master" gave them a little speech before tying their new belts on.


For my Mermaid, he spoke to her of bravery.  How she got to where she was because she chose to be brave and how she will get to where she wants to be in the future by continuing to be brave.  Such wise words; so applicable to my soft-spoken-don't-notice-me precious little girl who is blossoming into this soft-spoken-louder-YES SIRS-you-better-look-at-me-because-I-can-kick-hard brave and confident little girl. 

What Mama could resist moist cheeks watching her baby girl get her first yellow belt knowing the painful shyness and fear she had to overcome in just two short months!?

For my Ninja, he spoke to him of patience.  How J-bob trains so hard and is so immensely excited to get to the next level.  He spoke to him of his gift of seeing the future goal and not quitting until he reaches it, but he reminded him that with good goals comes much work requiring the ability to be patient...embrace and enjoy the "now".  (Yes, moist cheeks and the ability to not snot bubble in public is highly overrated).  I watched my son patiently listen to every word spoken until that blessed moment that the sacred yellow belt was tied around his waist.  I almost burst with thankfulness for how blessed we were to find such an amazing establishment. 

Signature sigh

As we got home and I rushed around to make dinner:  fish with green beans, apple slices, and a salad.  All those tears I had been holding back finally found their place on my face.

Patience.  If only I could explain to each person present tonight how patience has a whole new meaning in our family.  Patience is learning to how to speak so that "more than 50% of those with unfamiliar ears" can understand you.  Patience is looking to your mother to help you interpret yourself and the confusing world around your first 6 years of life.  Patience is learning to eat more than three things without extreme anxiety or aversion.  Patience is starting off by licking a chicken breast (totally worth the read) and having your Dad be so excited that he videos it and texts it to your Mom then 4 years later being able to negotiate 8 bites of fish and all the rest of your plate for television and doing so without a single tear.  Patience is waiting until you are almost 9 years old to finally do an extra curricular activity that doesn't include therapy while all your friends started soccer or baseball when they were 4 and 5.

Tonight my Ninja was just another boy in another belt tying ceremony who eagerly waited his very first accomplishment that didn't require anything more than working hard and listening.  And then he came home and ate just another healthy dinner and bargained just another hour of television with his mom.

Talk about enjoying the now. 

I celebrate that patience is his hardest virtue...I love that his eagerness and excitement that consume him are a combination of his Mama's passion and his Daddy's focus rolled into the fact that he has some serious catching up to do...he has waited this long...and has worked this hard...patience be damned...that boy's got some LIFE to LIVE.

Tonight was a great night.  I serve a great and mighty God who gives me exceedingly more than I could ever ask for or deserve.  And teaches me through my perfectly imperfect children how to be brave and be patient in these very early steps of our adoption journey.

Separation

I used to imagine every single awful thing I have ever done being mulled over by Jesus while he was being whipped and mocked.  I used to think that as He hung on the cross lists of sins would just ripple across his broken and bruised body.

I don't see that this year. 

This year I have, for the first time in my life, really slowed myself down to realize what was going on a few thousand years ago during these last several days.  I have tried to imagine being with him in the garden where he was so consumed with sorrow that he sweat drops of blood.  It's always been explained that those drops were because of my sin.  And I get that...but I think it was so much more.  He was about to be separated for the first time...from His Father.

Sin is separation from our Holy God.  Sin isn't "sin" because it's a list of bad things---a hierarchy of who is the holiest.  It is absence of Him.  And He is Love.  I am just now understanding a tiny fragment of this.  How much more did Jesus understand it all. 

He wasn't hanging there being shocked by all of humanity's specific sins over and over and over.  He was hanging there broken for us...and because of us...he was separated from Him.  Have you ever lost someone you love?  Death, divorce, abandonment?  It hurts.  It breaks.  Tears cried in those dark hours are so thick, so bitter that they cry out for themselves.

As I have begun to understand that all sin is merely (because we so often try to over-complicate this) yet profoundly (focusing on the lists and hierarchy causes us to keep our eyes on US as opposed to HIM) separation from our Holy Father, I understand even more what happened on that cross.  I cannot imagine being separated from my children.  For my precious son who truly knows very little of his own wrong to be ripped away and suffer because of other people's sin (our CONSTANT turning away from Him and to ourselves...chosen separation).  For him to think for one moment that I had abandoned him.  For him to call out my name and feel as if I had forsaken him.  I have no words fit for such sacrifice.

I only have a life, a life lived very imperfectly but made perfect by His blood.  I don't want to be separated, not even for a second, from our Lord and Savior.  May my life become a constant out-pouring of Him...more of Him...less of me.

Defender of the defenseless

My daughter is missing her top two front teeth.  Every parent out there can most likely relate to the absolute heart-stopping-adorableness this adds to one's child---every child.  She also has the kind of wavy bobbed hair that causes strangers to stop and tell her how cute it is.  She's intensely shy, so she never quite handles herself the same way with each compliment (I admire her humility).  She'd rather eat a worm than have people stop and stare at her.  The problem is that she possesses the kind of beauty that makes you pause-breathe it in.  There's something about her.  I have always struggled to define her...even she often cannot figure out what she wants or what she likes...much like her Mama...indecision...because every single angle has to be considered, mulled, weighed.  No choice is just a "simple choice".  It drives her Daddy insane.  He knows exactly what he wants at all times.  He never seems to question himself and is gifted with this remarkable ability to see all, do all, and decide all...AT ONE TIME.  It's truly an amazing thing to behold.

There's a steep looking rock wall of sorts by our house.  We pass it every time we go onto the interstate.  It snuggles up to this incredible hill that my old car struggles to chug up.  One day Mermaid said:  Someday, I am going to climb that hill.  It's probably gonna be hard, but I won't stop till I reach the top.

A smile rushed across my face.  I have the exact same feelings about the hill it befriends and my running.  And it was hard.  It was then that I realized that Mermaid's "word" per se is "DETERMINED".  A determined infant, and a determined toddler, and a determined preschooler are VERY difficult to raise.  A determined 7 year old?  Oh my.  It's heart-stopping.  Much like her toothless grin, adorable hair, breathless beauty.  She is also determined to rid the world of all social and moral injustice.  Today I told her that I was going to change her name to Merci, the defender of the defenseless.  Oh how fitting it would be. 

It terrifies me a little...her intensity-beauty-determination-protectiveness...all wrapped up in a giggling little girl with two top missing teeth.  Her Mama's indecisiveness and her Daddy's focused ability to get what he sets out to accomplish.  I marvel at the way God uses her already.  I celebrate the life He has blessed me with in my youngest...desperate to no longer be the youngest...and somehow managing by His Grace to pull that one off.

I am blessed to be the apple of her eye.  I pray that I never lose my status in her heart.  I ask God to defy all stereotypes of Mothers and Daughters.  In my life, I have never met one as unique as she.  She is, by far, one of my Hero and I's best accomplishments thus far...not to exclude her brother...whom I will save for tomorrow's post...and I am a better person because of them.

Wow and a rather long announcement

I have really been trying to figure out how to "announce" this.  It's so personal and yet so vital that others are apart of this journey as it's really a commandment for all of us in one way or another.  What on EARTH am I blathering on about now?  Dairy?  Red 40?  Autism?  Marriage?  The kids?

Well, yes.

And, no.

And everything in between.

The "wow" from my title comes from my re-reading an entry that I had written in June of 2009:  Foster parenting.  There are just so many reasons to "wow" the re-reading of my own prayers from the past.  It's been nearly THREE years since I posted that.  I attended the class.  I received tons of information in the mail--- many of which had pictures of adorable third-world country babies posted all over it to which my adorable kiddos would beg of me to please bring home.  It would nearly rip my heart into pieces.  I finally just stopped asking.  I even stopped praying for it (well...mostly), resolving myself to the fact that it was not my husband's desire. He is usually always right when it comes to big life decisions. 

Periodically he would come home and bring up having my tubal reversed so that we could try to have more children.  Something inside him was stirring.  I love how subtle God can be.

Fast forward to a few months ago.  I posted the post:  Ummm...wow...it's already been a YEAR?

Apparently, my Hero read my post.  Apparently, he started to really pray and ask God what His will was for our family.  Apparently, he started talking about it and asking questions at work.  Apparently, his heart was slowly changing.  Apparently, he called his parents to let them know we were considering and would be taking first steps...which was when I realized:  this is really happening.

I immediately removed any and all distractions from my life and began to pour myself into God's word and several recommended books.  I can't really explain the eerie transformation that has occurred within my family in this very short time (or shall I say over the last three years).  There's a newness...or rather...an old familiarity to God being the very center of our lives and it is an amazing place to be.

I still say bad words, I still have bad thoughts, I still cling to every single drop of precious blood that He shed for my daily sins...but...I also savor the redemption and restoration He promises and offers.

By no means do we think that our future will be easy.  Actually, we are quite aware of just how close to hell parenting can bring us.  My only explanation lies in one afternoon's and one evening's events and a heart desperate for wanting to do His will.  I was watching my Hero build a huge stick fort in our backyard with the kiddos. I couldn't shake the gnawing realization that what we have should be shared with those who have not (kind of freaked me out reading nearly the same thoughts penned 3 years ago); and in the wee hours of a few evenings later, my Hero echoed those exact sentiments (I had not shared those thoughts with him).  We realized that God had written the same thing across each of our hearts.  So whether we are crazy, or sane, or terrified, or ecstatic or all of them in one, we are taking the plunge into the world of foster-adoption.

"If God has been generous with you, he will expect you to serve him well.  But if he has been more than generous, he will expect you to serve him even better."   Luke 12:48 CEV

"If you try to save your life, you will lose it.  But if you give it up for me, you will surely find it."  Matthew 10:39 CEV