tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65785671868687755242024-03-14T02:16:46.215-04:00Busy Blessed Beautiful Life"The Lord is my strength and my song..." Exodus 15:2Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-42934101491778695422013-01-21T10:18:00.003-05:002013-01-21T10:18:56.234-05:00I'm moving, and you're invited to come along!Hey friends! I'm in the mood for a fresh start this year (ever feel that way?)<br />
<br />
I'd love to invite you to <a href="http://shannonkwheeler.blogspot.com/">my cozy new corner of the web</a>. <br />
There's even a crazy yellow couch we can sit on while we chat.<br />
<br />
So, what are you waiting for?<br />
The coffee's ready, so all I need is for you to stop by....<br />
See you <a href="http://shannonkwheeler.blogspot.com/">there</a>!Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-37125319399293352982012-12-30T15:03:00.001-05:002012-12-30T15:03:26.556-05:00Because Sometimes I Make God Too SmallThis morning started out like most others. I woke up, took a peek at emails that came in on my phone, scrolled through messages. One was from my friend Miroslava in Ukraine. She works at Sunshine Center, and she's one of the staff members who stays in contact with me about the Christmas gifts being sent to the orphans.<br />
<br />
She told me of a little girl, ten years old, who just moved into the center. Miroslava asked if we could find people to send gifts to her for Christmas. <br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">Sometimes I think I'm finished with something when God isn't done yet. </span></i><br />
<br />
We spent several weeks set up in the church lobby, photos and handouts and greeting people who want to bless kids with gifts and reach into the hurting places of fatherlessness with the love of Jesus as a gift to the King whose life is a gift of eternity to us.<br />
<br />
I checked off names and gifts being sent and gifts having arrived, and I really felt my "work" was mostly done. Looking ahead with anticipation to the sweet photos we get each year, I tucked my clipboard of Sunshine Christmas notes aside my computer and felt accomplished.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">But God wasn't done. </span></i><br />
<br />
A new boy came to Sunshine a few weeks ago, and we scurried to share his handsome face and his favorite colors and what size warm clothes he could use, and some loving friends stepped up to once again give.<br />
<br />
And today, I read Miroslava's email, and despite all the time I've spent watching God love the orphan and make impossible things possible for His glory, my first response was, "Oh dear, how will we find people again? I don't really know how we'll find gifts for this little girl. Everyone has done so much, and the gifts should be sent so soon, and everyone is so busy..." <br />
<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">I made God too small. </span></i><br />
<br />
<br />
I have watched God provide thousands of dollars for a trip my husband and I made to Ukraine, to spend time having fellowship with the orphan we call "son" in our hearts. I've watched God provide tens of thousands for friends to adopt. I've watched God bring a family of kids from Sunshine to live only 3 houses away from me as refugees, and they and their mom and other siblings have become family to us. <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>And I still, after all this, am guilty of waking up in the morning and making God too small. </b><br />
<br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;">But our God is not small. </span></i><br />
<i>He is mighty. </i><br />
<i>He is good. </i><br />
<i>And so big.</i><br />
<br />
I posted Alina's photo and the message from my friend on Facebook, and I went to church.<br />
After church, I had messages waiting from 3 friends who want to send gifts right out to Alina. <br />
<br />
<br />
<i>When I make a box for God to fit into, </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>His<b> grace</b> and <b>faithfulness</b> always press against the edges</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>until all the limitations I place on Him </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>have been torn </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>down.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-87414122344123923522012-09-13T20:22:00.000-04:002012-09-13T20:41:01.455-04:00Letter to My Teenage Self<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kLWGp_fXQt4/UFDePHUUBUI/AAAAAAAABTc/shFY_BHFjGw/s1600/dear+me2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kLWGp_fXQt4/UFDePHUUBUI/AAAAAAAABTc/shFY_BHFjGw/s1600/dear+me2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
Dear teenage Shannon,<br />
Yes, the Pulsar is the coolest of all possible first-cars, although when you're riding around with the t-tops off, I hate to break it to you, but you do not look like Mary J Blige. Even in the hoodie dress and sunglasses. Take a pic of the Pulsar, though, because in 15 years, no one on the earth will remember this car model having ever existed. So take those T-tops off, velcro the CD player to the dash, and rock on, girl. These days are good. In 20 years, you will still text (it's a thing you'll understand later) Gina every time "California Love" comes on the radio.<br />
<br />
You have stumbled upon one of the great truths of life at an early age: a perfect eyeliner application can always improve your mood. We really should talk about that hair, though. I know, I know: it was the 90's. <br />
<br />
Something you should know: Mom and Dad are actual people. Hard to understand at this age, I realize. But they have feelings and struggles and hearts and hurts, and you need to be a little sensitive to that, ok? One day you'll be a mom, and you'll understand how hard it is to be a mere mortal charged with the heavenly task of raising children. Even when parents fall, they still are heroes. Mom and Dad are not necessarily perfect human beings (don't worry - they already know this), but they ARE amazing and selfless parents (you may want to let them know this sometimes - they can be hard on themselves, I think). They can still perch on those pedestals, even though they are real. Your parents are truly amazing people. You'll be sentimental about them forever.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wGRgksu_Zq8/UFDcnEuzL-I/AAAAAAAABTM/rTD5OXEpdwc/s1600/high+school+w:KP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wGRgksu_Zq8/UFDcnEuzL-I/AAAAAAAABTM/rTD5OXEpdwc/s1600/high+school+w:KP.jpg" /></a>Boys are really not worth the trouble. If you could not be bothered with them until you're about 25, that would be great. Focus on your girlfriends. They are the best! There's nothing better than laughing until you have tears in your eyes over a million inside jokes that will never be funny to anyone else. Enjoy all your friends. <br />
<br />
God has a good man for you. You'll meet him. He will take care of you and your kids, he'll even take care of other kids, because he's really amazing. You'll be crazy about him. Besides being totally handsome, he's also brilliant. You don't know now that such a good man will love you one day, but that's because you're young and silly and really should put all thoughts of dating and boys on the back burner until you are older and smarter. There really is a man with a beautiful heart and who is strong and worthy of respect and who will chase after your dreams all over the world with you. God made him for you. Years will pass, and you will never stop being in awe of this man you have.<br />
<br />
Be sure you get all your favorite childhood recipes. You'll love to cook these meals for your kids one day. And don't be annoyed that Mom makes you cook once in a while. You'll be a decent homemaker one day. (Which - are you sitting? - will become your dream job.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
You are actually not an idiot on computers. One day there will be something called the internet, and there will be so many cool ways to stay in touch with people (we call it "online" in the future, ok?) that you will push through your great aversion to technology because you are totally a people person.<br />
<br />
Don't be afraid to look stupid. Don't worry about going to something you want to attend just because no one you know yet is going (you'll remind yourself of this for the next 20-something years), because there are probably new friends waiting for you there.<br />
<br />
You'll never be tan. You're Irish. If you are smart, you'll stay out of tanning beds and really not go overboard on the spray tan. Just rock the sunscreen and the Celtic complexion with pride (and maybe a <i>little</i> spray tan). One day you'll have a daughter who's biracial and you'll want her to be proud of the color God made her (although you will be jealous of her year-round mocha skin). <br />
<br />
Get to know your grandmother. She's super-amazing. Try to learn everything you can from her. She knows a bunch of cool things. She can sew. She can cook. She can do the jitterbug. She knows as much about how to live with joy and vitality as anyone, possibly in the history of the world. Your kids will love her. But they will be annoyed with hearing you say each time you drive by her old house that you hope to buy it someday. (You'll say it anyway...)<br />
<br />
The smell of fresh soil and cucumbers will always make you think of Bampa. You'll never forget him. You'll tell Mom often how much he would have liked your husband. Sometimes you'll say "Oh boy" to your kids, and you'll stop and think, "Oh my word! That sounded just like Bampa." <br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XewFa26KEUw/UFDcaR46K3I/AAAAAAAABS8/pUlQZeyICPI/s1600/high+school+nhs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XewFa26KEUw/UFDcaR46K3I/AAAAAAAABS8/pUlQZeyICPI/s1600/high+school+nhs.jpg" /></a>Mom will actually be your best buddy one day. I know she cramps your style now, but it's only because she's trying to keep you alive to adulthood, so you two can shoot the breeze and enjoy lunches out and talk for hours on the phone. You'll realize soon that she is probably the most intelligent woman on earth. Honestly. You think you want to live in a big city now, but when you're older, you will live in the same small town as Mom and will think it's the only possible thing to do. You won't be able to imagine living too far to pop in and visit. She's really quite a lot of fun. She puts up with a lot from you. Be sure you thank her profusely at least once later on. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i9mnFEd3180/UFDcnWyN4OI/AAAAAAAABTU/hXrsb5cBPgs/s1600/high+school+w:dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i9mnFEd3180/UFDcnWyN4OI/AAAAAAAABTU/hXrsb5cBPgs/s1600/high+school+w:dad.jpg" /></a>Dad will always make you feel like a little girl inside, like his princess. He'll always be larger than life. In 20 years, he will still stand at the end of the driveway and hold up "I love you" fingers when you drive away. And every time you'll cry. (Your husband will understand completely after you two have a baby girl. He'll stand by the sonographer when she tells you that your baby is a girl, and his first words will be, "I'm ruined," and he'll smile.) Save money when you're still in your 20's to go to Ireland with Dad. It won't be easy years later, with lots of kids, and you'll regret not going. He'll never stop calling you "Pooks." You'll actually catch fish with him as an adult. I know, you can't imagine either of you doing something so unrefined, but you will be hysterical laughing, dragging a bass through the lake alongside a paddleboat a week after he has a stroke, and you'll thank God for small moments that really are full of treasures. You will wear a fishing hat. I know... "Say whaaaat?!" You'll be cute in it, though. Don't worry.<br />
<br />
There's a reason why they offer classes at 8am in college, as well as at later times. For the love of all things good, don't sign up for the 8:00 class! <br />
<br />
There really will be a day when you don't aspire to own a Mercedes. It's the truth! You will -- wait for it...! -- happily drive a minivan one day. Not forever, just for a couple years, until you don't need to tote pack-n-plays and strollers with you. God will mess with your mind, and you will start to want to put your money into all sorts of crazy things like "other people" and "missions" and "caring for orphans and widows."<br />
<br />
Other dreams will change, too. That fashion designer version of your future? Not so much. You will actually dream of being a housewife and having lots of kids from all over the place. And you'll want to live in an old Maine farmhouse. Your wonderful husband will humor you, but he will <i>always</i> draw the line at buying you a goat. He's probably exercising wisdom. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LZ4YK3mKtAk/UFDgzWcYq3I/AAAAAAAABTo/Tj1A9nZ3N_4/s1600/high+school+group.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LZ4YK3mKtAk/UFDgzWcYq3I/AAAAAAAABTo/Tj1A9nZ3N_4/s1600/high+school+group.jpg" /></a>Finally, you are beautiful and precious and loved and valuable. Please don't take unnecessary risks. Please don't ever forget that you are the workmanship of a loving God who has good plans for you. When things in life hurt you, don't build up walls. Don't self-destruct. The pain will still be there. You can't numb it by being stupid. The only thing you can ever really do is take it to the Cross and let Jesus carry it for you. You'll figure that out one day. You'll grow up and have a wonderful life and enjoy your parents and have amazing kids and a handsome husband. All the hard stuff now is temporary. The good stuff is what to cling to. The future is one fabulous adventure. You'll learn to endure hard things. You'll have wonderful friends. You will love your church family. You will dream big dreams and watch in anticipation as a holy God refines them and guides you. You will marvel that He would send his only son to die for you, and one day the weight of that truth you've known so long will land hard on your heart, and you will actually write things to share His love with others. And you'll see some of the friends you love now come to know Jesus, and you'll wonder a little bit if they ever saw him in you, so be careful how you live and what you say now, because the only thing you <i>can</i> take with you to heaven are people... you'll hope that you are a beautiful example of his grace going forward. Because life passes quickly, and you'll get a better sense of that when you're older. <br />
<br />
With great love for you,<br />
Your 33-year old self<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
(Today, bloggers all over are sharing letters to their teenage selves in celebration of<a href="http://www.chattingatthesky.com/"> Emily Freeman's</a> new book for teenage girls, <a href="http://www.gracefulthebook.com/">"Graceful</a>." What would you say to your high school self? Let me know in the comments!)<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-88623160911003309162012-09-12T09:03:00.002-04:002012-09-12T09:12:00.967-04:00Letter to My Mother on Her BirthdayDear Mom,<br />
When I think of my earliest memories of you, they are of how beautiful you are. I remember being little and loving the smell of your perfume in the air and standing small, in awe of the rows of shoes in your closet. I loved to try on your heels that had the bow with the big rhinestone inside. Didn't you have those in 3 colors? And you had tall boots in taupe, tan and black, and I loved to wear them in your big closet and pretend to be Wonderwoman. <br />
<br />
Thank you for making me tithe, even when I was little. I remember my $2.50 allowance each week, and I always took my quarter to church. Giving to God first has become a habit, and I credit you with that. You also taught me to avoid credit card debt, and that is something I am thankful for (and so is Selden!). I hope we can teach our kids those same financial disciplines as well as you taught them to me. <br />
<br />
You also are to blame for my highly type-A but very efficient way of making a weekly grocery list that is laid out in order of the aisles in the grocery store. I thought you were so strange for all you organizational quirks, but now I have them too, so I think they are quite brilliant.<br />
<br />
Thank you for always welcoming my friends and our messes into the house. You saw the genius of play and making art without having lines to stay inside of and encouraged me to wallpaper the inside of my wooden bookshelf as an addition to Barbie's "Dream House." You let me grow up with a sense of enterprise and possibility, and I know that's something God wants us all to develop in our children. You gave me a shelf to sell my handmade earrings on in your salon, and you taught me about profit margins and invested in all of my dreams. <br />
<br />
I love how you made every excuse to celebrate. You set the table with candles and flowers, just because sitting down as a family to eat is something to be treasured. And you cooked me fried eggs and toast for breakfast and woke me up with foot rubs until I graduated high school. (Have I told you recently that you are a much better person than I am? It's true. My kids use alarms to wake up and make their own breakfasts. Please don't tell them about the fried eggs and the foot rubs. Thanks.) <br />
<br />
You threw the best spiral with a football of anyone in the neighborhood, boys included. And you never pushed me to be all the things you loved. When I didn't really love sports, and I liked art more, you were the biggest art fan on earth. <br />
<br />
Thank you for bringing me along to serve others. You lived out a life of ministry in front of me, and I now hope to live that with my kids. I remember crouching in the car, hoping not to get shot driving through unsafe parts of town (for those who don't live in cities where this happens, yes, this is a normal part of life in some areas, not that many car jackers rush to steal Datsun 510's, so we were probably very safe, but that's another matter altogether) to deliver Thanksgiving gifts to a teenage mom and her little babies who lived in a two-room shotgun house. I remember the kids licking Spaghettio's off the bare mattress when we walked in. You taught me to seek out what others need, not what I think they need. And you learned that as you went. We took a turkey that day, and she didn't have an oven. So you took a list of all the things she needed more than turkey, and we came back with curtains and diapers and other things. And you took me to visit people who were sick. And you invited the families of all the prisoners to our church for a special Christmas and made sure they went home with Christmas trees decorated and gifts and that they knew Jesus came for each of them and loves them.<br />
<br />
I can't give you a birthday gift that could ever come close to being able to repay you for any of the riches you've cultivated in my life. You've given me courage and determination and tenderness and Jesus. And those things are worth everything. <br />
<br />
Happy birthday to a mom I can never repay. <br />
I love you to Jesus!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qTXGurXl3Lo/UFCIJRPXWcI/AAAAAAAABSs/3SEIwn07Ei0/s1600/DSC_0134_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qTXGurXl3Lo/UFCIJRPXWcI/AAAAAAAABSs/3SEIwn07Ei0/s320/DSC_0134_2.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
ShannonShannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com47tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-59711353962407099472012-09-10T15:08:00.002-04:002012-09-12T09:12:50.594-04:00Finding Your ValueMy writing has been hit or miss the past year. I apologize. It's been a year when my heart's been heavy and so many of the things in my mind have felt too personal to share or have been bits and pieces of other people's stories, and I haven't felt it was mine to tell. So I've been waiting. Waiting for inspiration or some brilliant thing to come upon me that would certainly be compelling enough to warrant a blog post. <br />
<br />
But for the most part, nothing came.<br />
<br />
I sat and stared at the screen. I typed words, and then I hit backspace until the page was white again. And I shut the computer down. <br />
<br />
I've felt a little inadequate sometimes, to tell the truth. <br />
<br />
My reality was shattered to bits by moments spent on the other side of the planet. Standing on a hilltop in a Ukrainian village whose name I still can't pronounce, looking past the smoke from burning trash piles to make out the tiny white speck of a building I was told by the boy standing with me had been his mother's home. I stood there and caught my breath in my throat, because in that moment he stood beside one who desired to be a mom to him and could not be, because of governments and aging-out of adoption eligibility, looking out at one of the remaining bits of visible connection to a mother who had passed away. And I just have struggled with how to reconcile all this in my mind, even though I know we live in a broken, hurting world. <br />
<br />
I wondered how many times he'd climbed that hill and looked at that house. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zBOfqWeP4jI/UE43Ci5tACI/AAAAAAAABSM/Z7py2ExFoi0/s1600/DSC_0520.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zBOfqWeP4jI/UE43Ci5tACI/AAAAAAAABSM/Z7py2ExFoi0/s320/DSC_0520.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
His village is a thousand years old. We were jokingly told we may have been the first Americans to go there. (I wonder if it's maybe true.)<br />
<br />
We ate fresh sunflower seeds, plucked from the gigantic center of a flower he pulled out of a seemingly endless field of yellow. <br />
<br />
It's these moments that have sort of tripped me up this year. <br />
<br />
But they weren't all heavy. <br />
<br />
We had a good laugh that my husband ate the shell of the sunflower seed, and that I ate the skin of a grape (and lived to tell... we Americans... I tell you what), and we all thought it was funny that we were in great anticipation of a small-town parade when we heard horns and sirens ringing out when in truth it was some sort of Ukrainian signal that you could take your garbage to be disposed of. <br />
<br />
When I came home I cried. And I pushed the Lord to please do something. Anything. Give me something to "do" so I feel better about all of this. Give us an adoption plan. Give me a ministry opportunity. Something. Something to be busy and to feel productive.<br />
<br />
But I'm learning again to quiet that and to wait. And that's not really my strength, but it's something I am developing with practice, this waiting and this patience. (If you haven't yet, I highly recommend NOT praying for patience.... really. Anything but patience. There must be oodles of things God develops in us that are more fun to develop than patience...)<br />
<br />
And somewhere in the midst of my stubborn nagging of the Lord to let me remind him of his will and to be sure he knew how very good and well thought out all my plans are for my life, He reminded me of something.<br />
<br />
I already have something to do. <br />
<br />
I already have a ministry.<br />
<br />
He's been whispering to my heart about how my eyes sometimes are focused too far out ahead of me. So I've pulled back. And I've been renewing my focus on home and family and the things that are right this minute my work and my offering to him. And all of these things - these children, this man, our home - are gifts to my life from a really loving and gracious God. A God who gives good things. Who is good always. <br />
<br />
Last night, I went into a small group class at church called Christianity in the Marketplace. So, yes, I partially went because I was a smidge shy to go into the women's Bible study alone.... I know, I know- I'm too old to be nervous to attend something without a friend. But there you have it. It's true. So I tagged along with my husband to this class. And you know what? It was wonderful. <br />
<br />
It was relevant for me. Because I do have a marketplace. It's my home. And in that hour last night, as we heard teaching and as I read the familiar passage of scripture reminding me to "do everything as unto the Lord," I was so encouraged to see my "work" in a new light. I was able to grab hold of the vision that I saw so clearly 4 years ago when I first stayed home full time. God reminded me that what I do each day in my home, if I do it heartily and for Him, does have big impact and eternal value. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pAgBdo4XqlI/UE46iPZlI6I/AAAAAAAABSc/5s8wFiP0wBs/s1600/DSC_0608.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pAgBdo4XqlI/UE46iPZlI6I/AAAAAAAABSc/5s8wFiP0wBs/s320/DSC_0608.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
It's easy for us moms to sometimes forget that what we spend our days doing is of great value. And I think sometimes the most critical voices we hear are our own. We sometimes try so hard in our own strength to "make" something valuable of our lives and our time, when really, it's already that. Because each of our moments is a gift from God. And no matter what it is we do, when we do it fully and joyfully and diligently and heartily and "as unto the Lord," we can consider our days an offering to give back to the One who has given us this gift of today.<br />
<br />
Today is beautiful. I had coffee earlier than usual, and Sage and I made granola bars. We took coffee to my husband at work. Then we went to Target and chose some fun things to use making birthday gifts for my mom and grandmother. Sage leaned her second memory verse of our "ABC's of Scripture," and she recited it while working diligently on her special gift. She played the metal triangle instrument we found in the dollar section of Target spontaneously at a number of different occasions: to signal nap time, to signal prayer time, to signal that I could give her a kiss. (Now it's quiet upstairs, so I'm enjoying her sleeping after a 3 week stretch wherein I feared she'd outgrown nap time!)<br />
<br />
I'd like to encourage you today to see your time and your life and your value as the Lord does. Right now, today, you are in a place where God will use your energy and time and talents to be a blessing to others and an example of His love in this world. Have you had any seasons of life that God has used to change how you see your time? Are there any ways I can be praying for you today? <br />
<br />
<br />Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-5987338572241737882012-08-28T12:05:00.001-04:002012-09-12T09:15:01.981-04:00Reason #359 Why Teenagers Rock<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
We don't see enough of the good teenagers do these days.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
Here's some GOOD stuff teens are doing for others and for God. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;">
Get ready to smile (and/or cry)... </div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<object class="BLOGGER-youtube-video" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" data-thumbnail-src="http://2.gvt0.com/vi/0EnDoTzw_OY/0.jpg" height="266" width="320"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/0EnDoTzw_OY&fs=1&source=uds" /><param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF" /><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true" /><embed width="320" height="266" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/0EnDoTzw_OY&fs=1&source=uds" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true"></embed></object><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Bangor Baptist Church's <a href="http://bangorbaptist.com/ministries/thrive-student-ministries/about-thrive.aspx">Thrive Student Ministries</a> serving inner city Philadelphia at Center for Student Ministries (CSM). Video production by Kanishko, who </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-888644519103702142012-07-24T09:01:00.001-04:002012-09-12T09:13:45.130-04:00Teens on a Mission: PhiladelphiaHey everyone! I've been so caught up in my own busy days that I haven't sat down to write in ages. This year has been incredible. I've wrestled a little with what to share and what not to share, because so much of the story is not only mine, so I've been living it and not writing it. But I've missed being here in this space with you all, so I'm excited to be back!<br />
<br />
Sunday at 4 a.m. (yes, that's right) we woke up to drive four of our teenagers to church, where they were meeting the teens in Thrive Student Ministries at Bangor Baptist to depart bright and early for a week in Philadelphia doing missions work. It's been an amazing process, because the trip required each teen to raise $800, and that amount seemed incomprehensible sometimes (x4!), but the Lord, in His perfect faithfulness, provided. (Here's a photo from 4a.m. - Kanishko snuck out of the shot, but here's my hubby with the girls!)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zX5FrAJBSRw/UA6YhHd7TOI/AAAAAAAABRU/_BtY3ggxVvc/s1600/DSC_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zX5FrAJBSRw/UA6YhHd7TOI/AAAAAAAABRU/_BtY3ggxVvc/s320/DSC_0002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FyaU88MybVA/UA6YvNwRaBI/AAAAAAAABRc/UMzTUJMOgfo/s1600/DSC_0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FyaU88MybVA/UA6YvNwRaBI/AAAAAAAABRc/UMzTUJMOgfo/s320/DSC_0030.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
The teens will be working in the city all week, and they took a prayer tour yesterday - here's a photo of the skyline from their last stop. They also sat together under an overpass where, each night, homeless people gather to sleep, and they saw shoes hanging from electrical wires over the streets and learned that this usually is in memory of a child who died from gang violence or drugs.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D2yst9I2CKk/UA6X2gvnbNI/AAAAAAAABQ0/b3SiSkulxO8/s1600/256380_3906026882794_386356024_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D2yst9I2CKk/UA6X2gvnbNI/AAAAAAAABQ0/b3SiSkulxO8/s320/256380_3906026882794_386356024_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Before heading out each morning, they gather to read the Bible and have some prayer. Today, their reading is from <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i>Matthew9: 35-38</i> <i>"Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, 'The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field.'" </i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Today, I'm praying that each of the teens on this trip will be broken by the same things that break the heart of Jesus, and I'm asking that as the Lord will take those broken pieces and put them back together in the shape of his perfect will for each of their lives, that he will form in them hearts that hear His voice and are willing to walk in uncomfortable places, just like Jesus did when he put on human skin and walked on this earth. I'm asking the Lord to speak into each life how He desires to use the gifts and talents knit into each teenager for His glory and for the good of others. I'm asking God to take this week and fill each moment with His presence, and I ask He would grow each of these students into young adults who chase hard after the heart of Christ in the hurting parts of our world and that "his harvest field" would have some lifelong workers in these students. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i>If you'd like to pray for these kids and for Philadelphia with me, please do! And if you'd like to leave your thoughts or prayers in the "comments," I'll be sure the kids see them when they get home. Thanks friends!</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-13166487582392889082012-03-03T11:31:00.003-05:002012-03-03T14:11:53.194-05:00Beautiful WazhmaWhere to begin....? We've been so busy, my family and the Shahzaman family both. In January we accomplished a lot of "starting." The kids started school, their mom and adult sisters started processes of applying for aid as refugees here in Maine. And then there has been the waiting.<br />
<br />
February has been a strange mix of racing and waiting. We've been at countless meetings and appointments, visits with housing authorities, dental clinics, schools, learning centers, errands. We have filled out mountains of paperwork. (Have I mentioned MOUNTAINS?????) And then we are told to wait.<br />
<br />
"Our" Shahzaman family (as Selden and I have come to know them in our hearts!) are a family of people so amazing and so real and so strong, I don't even know where to begin to describe all I love about them. But I'll give it a whirl. There is so much to say about each of these people I love, so it will take a few days, and I'll talk about them one at a time, ok?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qH_pMRsrR2s/T1JDZ9t3gYI/AAAAAAAABPo/I2ugtJaWtsY/s1600/DSC_0234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qH_pMRsrR2s/T1JDZ9t3gYI/AAAAAAAABPo/I2ugtJaWtsY/s320/DSC_0234.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Wazhma is so tender-hearted and so funny. One day she and I were driving to the human service office to inquire about her Refugee Assistance, and we made it toward Bangor, and then she asked me something about documents, which I said she needs to have with her. So we turn around, drive back to the hotel where they're still living (Lord bring them a home soon, please, in Jesus' name, and thank you in advance for this answered prayer). She shows me what she has for papers, while we're in the parking lot, only to find out she had what we needed and was asking about some documents for her upcoming hair apprenticeship. So we sat in the car and laughed, because so often we don't understand each other, and all we can do is just laugh and hug (and then go to Mc Donald's for a caramel frappe - her favorite). So after hugging - and getting a frappe - we began our drive back to human services. <br />
<br />
Wazhma said to me while we were driving, "I think one day I go to India, because I think there are very big (meaning "many") hungry children there. And hungry children is no good." I agreed with her. She continued, "Is there very big ("many") Christian people in India?" I told her, "No, very small ("few") but very big other religions there." She told me, "I think we will go and be very big Christians. And we feed hungry children there." <br />
<br />
I swallowed hard.<br />
<br />
A few evenings before this, Wazhma and I were walking through WalMart at about 7:30 with her mom, gathering some groceries for their family. I hadn't wanted to go. I was tired. (And I really don't love WalMart, no offense.) We walked up and down the aisles, and Wazhma and I were talking a little, examining food items and trying to determine what they were equivalent to in Ukraine. Her stomach growled, and she patted it and said, "I hungry!" I asked her if she'd eaten at all, and she said, "No today."<br />
<br />
Conviction washed over me, hot and hard to bear. I ate three times that day. And I didn't feel like being at WalMart, and my friend Wazhma had not eaten anything and was hungry. Lord, forgive me....<br />
<br />
And my sister-friend Wazhma, who herself (despite my valiant efforts to make sure they have ample food and trips to the store and meals and everything) is sometimes hungry, has a heart that hurts for the hungry bellies of little ones in India. Have I told you how much I love this woman?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k6Y40epIt9I/T1JD5kZsZNI/AAAAAAAABPw/GQUDsWwuH6c/s1600/DSC_1024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k6Y40epIt9I/T1JD5kZsZNI/AAAAAAAABPw/GQUDsWwuH6c/s320/DSC_1024.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
One day, after a day packed with errands and meetings and school visits, Wazhma and I went to the Brewer Library, so I could get books for Sagie and she could get some for Roma, who is 7. Wazhma wants to help him with his alphabet and his English. At the desk, I told the librarian that Wazhma needs a card, that yes, she is a Brewer resident, and Wazhma shuffled through her various documents to find the necessary photo ID. "What is her address?" I was asked. After giving the address at the Inn, I was told, "Oh, we don't give cards to people at the Inn. We've had problems with that before." "What!?" I was stunned. "Can she use your card?" I was asked. "She is a Brewer resident," I told them, "and she would like her own card. She has 5 siblings in school here in Brewer, and she wants to read to her little brother, who's in Mrs. Raymond's first grade class, so he can learn his letters." "Can she use your card, then?" I was asked again. <br />
<br />
I cried. I stood at the desk in the Brewer library and I actually cried. (I am not a crier-in-public, ok?) Then I said, without pausing for air, and with tears rolling and voice shaking, "She is a refugee, and she came to this country and was in a Muslim housing project even though she's a Christian, and her family is now in Maine, and she is my friend. I've known them for a couple years, and she is not going to steal your books or not return them. She lives in Brewer. The five kids are in school here, and they're not just going to up and leave with these books. Can she PLEASE have a card of her own? This is SO undignified! She has NOTHING of her own now, and all she wants is a library card, so she can read to her little brother!" I wiped my eyes. Shelley, a librarian who I've known for years came over and smiled at us, and she took a library card out and issued it to Wazhma (I am a big fan of Shelley). Wazhma and I left with our stacks of books. <br />
<br />
In the parking lot we walked, arms around each other's shoulders, to the van. "Maybe this is a very bad day!" she said, and we squeezed each other and laughed. "Yes," I said, "but tomorrow a good day." She agreed, and we laughed a little more. Sometimes that's all you can do after crying in the library.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Wazhma is stunning. Beauty personified. And to see her heart.... Oh my goodness. The story her life has been up to this point is something I am still learning of in bits and pieces, through her broken English and her emphatic gestures and expressions. But the message always comes through. She has seen a lot of hard places. She has lived through more fear and hurt and loss than I will probably ever know in my whole lifetime, and she is still tender-hearted, warm, open. Quick to laugh. Filled with hope even when weary from the long months of waiting for something that feels like roots being put down in this new country. And it is not easy. </div><div><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TOlf0bAyemw/T1JC5JOSACI/AAAAAAAABPg/dRxFLxAsE5c/s1600/DSC_0018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TOlf0bAyemw/T1JC5JOSACI/AAAAAAAABPg/dRxFLxAsE5c/s320/DSC_0018.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Today, will you pray with me specifically for my sweet friend Wazhma? She is hoping to start apprenticing at The L Factor with my childhood buddy Gina, and I am praying that all her documents can be perfectly provided so this can start soon. I'm praying for her future here to be blessed. And I am praying for her to be in a permanent home very soon. Bangor Baptist is still accepting donations to help pay their ever-growing hotel debt, and if you are moved in your heart to give a gift of any amount toward this, it is tax-deductible and is greatly appreciated and can be sent to:<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Bangor Baptist Church</i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>1476 Broadway </i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Bangor, Maine 04401 </i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i>(memo: Refugee Assistance). </i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222; line-height: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; border-collapse: collapse; line-height: 16px;"><b>"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.... What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave im up for us all - how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?" Romans 8:28 & 31, 32</b></span></span>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-37767508703198101932012-01-07T10:30:00.000-05:002012-01-09T09:34:07.654-05:00So His Beauty Eclipses our Battle<b>Goodbye, 2011. You wrung me out. Left me weary. Drug me through the trenches. Leveled my heart. Rendered me speechless at times. Shook apart the familiar. Relentlessly bombarded my spirit with battles. </b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>And I'd just like to say thank you.</b><br />
<br />
<i>(And please don't keep on doing that in 2012. I'd sort of like a break.)</i><br />
<br />
There are some things I learned last year, and I'll share them with you, because I hope that in your uncertain places, on your battlefields, in the days of having your fingers pried away from the things you have always clung to for comfort, you may be blessed and encouraged by the beauty of our faithful God. And the knowledge that you are in good company in those hard places. <br />
<br />
In the battlefield seasons,<b> one way we can learn to "abide" is by choosing to "engage elsewhere,"</b> so the Lord is doing what He promises to do in His Word: fighting on our behalf.<br />
<br />
<b>When things are hard, and they will be, focusing on the "hard" will exhaust and deplete us of all the good resources the Lord wants us to be filled with.</b> Because the real battles are spritual, we can waste a lot of our energy trying in our own strength to handle things, but God wants us to be useful for HIM. I believe that we are built to best handle hard places when we are at the same time working on building good things for the glory of God.<br />
<br />
I love the passage in Nehemiah, when he talks about how the families are stationed to build the wall, and <b>they are both building and battling, as also we can be!</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"Those who carried materials did their work with one hand and held a weapon in the other, and each of the builders wore his sword at his side while he worked." Nehemiah 4:17 & 18</span></i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
We are promised in the Word of God that <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"In this world, we will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33) </span></i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<b>The trick is not to be distracted by the trouble. </b>For me, that has taken some practice. <br />
<br />
<b>The very best way of doing this is to dive head-first into serving the Lord and serving others. An ultimate act of faith in the Lord is being able to hand Him the difficult things, the battle-places, the unknowns, the things that hurt or induce anxiety, and let him focus on those things <i>for</i> us, while we<i> purpose in our hearts to focus on serving</i>.</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
We pray about the hard stuff. We fast. We talk with friends who can encourage us. We use wisdom and seek cousel. We do what needs to be done. <i>And then we step back and move in the direction of service, while the Lord does the stuff only He can do behind the scenes.</i><br />
<br />
<b>It's knowing when to actively engage and when to intentionally abide.</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
Jehoshaphat learned about engaging and abiding and the power of worship. When faced with a <i>"vast army,"</i> God told him, <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God's." (2 Chronicles 20:15)</span></i> And Jehoshaphat walked out what he needed to walk out, but he stepped onto that battle field to face the other army, and he did so with intentional praises to the Lord <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"for the splendor of His holyness"</span></i> and<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"> <i>"as they began to sing and praise, the Lord set ambushes against the men of Ammon and Moab and Mount Seir who were invading Judah, and they were defeated."</i> </span><br />
<br />
We as humans really are powerless. <b>Everything is Him. Everything is for His glory.</b> We have to get out of the way, stop trying to take over the wheel, stop trying to write the story, stop trying to fight the battle and start remembering that it's all under His control. <br />
<br />
<b>Our greatest strength is in recognizing our weakness in light of His great might.</b><br />
Then we can let go. <br />
I mean, <i>really</i> let go. <br />
<br />
What we are to cling to is not our desire to control but our desire to serve. We must serve in ways that stretch us.<br />
<br />
<b>We must understand that the Lord will sometimes ask us to say "YES!" to something that <i>IS</i> too big, too hard, too expensive, too radical before we even have the slightest idea of <i>HOW</i> He is going to work it out. </b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Because we know Him. And He will work it out.</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
This August, we did that very thing. We didn't have the extra money for a trip to Ukraine that the Lord put on our hearts. And we said yes, told a kid we love who's half the world away that we're coming, and we were committed. Before we had one dollar raised toward it. And just in time, each time we came to a need (purchasing plane tickets - we had $5 left over!) the Lord had provided exactly enough. And then He provided - through all of our friends' gracious giving - extra! The great thing is, because all that we had was given to us, we couldn't receive any glory! It was only for the Lord. Which is how it always ought to be, but sometimes, when we don't have to trust and wait and rely on His provision, we deceive ourselves into thinking <i>we</i> have done some great thing. <b> And all the good is always only God.</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-huPvLGCn2oo/Twhc8cLRM1I/AAAAAAAABNE/FqWhv2nvzf0/s1600/sasha+kiev+airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-huPvLGCn2oo/Twhc8cLRM1I/AAAAAAAABNE/FqWhv2nvzf0/s320/sasha+kiev+airport.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<b>There is glory for Him when there is need in us.</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
I hate asking for help. And I hate not knowing how things are going to work out. <br />
<br />
So the Lord hit me in both of these places this year, because I had to ask for help with the fund raising. And I had no idea how it would come together.<br />
<br />
<b>But I said yes ahead of time. And that unleashed what has become a whole new reckless type of faith in me.</b> And it's amazing!<br />
<br />
God's Word isn't filled with promises just so we can recite them and sound spiritual. He gives us promises to cling to. With our fingernails. With desperate hanging-on. When things don't make sense, as well as when they do. <br />
<br />
<b>There are often moments of not understanding and of feeling totally helpless that precede the overwhelming flood of grace that God pours out in answering our deepest plea for His help and His work in our lives.</b> And that is very cool. He never leaves us stranded. But He will sometimes let us wait for a while, so that we have let go of all the stuff of "us" that could interfere with His receiving the glory. And it makes us stronger. Braver. Tougher. More useful.<br />
<br />
<b>God desires and deserves our trust.</b> <br />
<br />
<b>The Lord will tell us the "what" and often not include the "why" or the "how." </b>Only in the trusting are we able to be ok with that. And sometimes it takes practice. A lot of practice. <br />
<br />
This past year, the Lord has taken us on a huge adventure, closer to His heart, deeper into His love of the orphan, the widow, the fatherless and the stranger. We've chased hard after His will and to obey. <br />
<br />
<b>We've worked to let go of what we are comfortable with, even when we don't understand, because we know God is good and will take care of us.</b> We've been led into a different church, and that was hard, because we love the church we attended before - the teaching, the friends, the worship. But God asked us to pack up our family and go across town, and we weren't exactly sure <i>why</i> (I pester about why a lot, so I think God likes to stretch me). And piece by piece, He is confirming we're in His will. <br />
<br />
<b>Some things are hard <i>and</i> beautiful at the same time. </b><br />
<b>That's ok. </b><br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">In our new church, we are seeing that <b>God has laid a groundwork in advance</b> of what is turning out to be a perfect network of relationships in place to receive a family of refugees we love dearly. We met these amazing kids in person on our Ukraine trip last summer. They are Afghani refugees, and they called Sunshine their home for several years, while they and their mom awaited entry to the U.S., which they were granted this past September. Initially they were placed in Atlanta, but the desire of their hearts is to be in Maine. So very soon, they will be moving here!</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QQWZZp7mnc8/Twhc89Bsq7I/AAAAAAAABNM/bpaYOLtovOM/s1600/sc+ilia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QQWZZp7mnc8/Twhc89Bsq7I/AAAAAAAABNM/bpaYOLtovOM/s1600/sc+ilia.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a2prJvyX66I/Twhc9VF64jI/AAAAAAAABNU/unyfmeu5Mck/s1600/sc11+Firishta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-a2prJvyX66I/Twhc9VF64jI/AAAAAAAABNU/unyfmeu5Mck/s1600/sc11+Firishta.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x2akKXNy7yg/Twhdf5IFINI/AAAAAAAABNc/o4-f30RIVms/s1600/sc11+Kanishko.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x2akKXNy7yg/Twhdf5IFINI/AAAAAAAABNc/o4-f30RIVms/s320/sc11+Kanishko.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0PSDgrOs5iU/Twhdg3_v7II/AAAAAAAABNk/G-LQgiHLd5I/s1600/sc11+manoz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0PSDgrOs5iU/Twhdg3_v7II/AAAAAAAABNk/G-LQgiHLd5I/s1600/sc11+manoz.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hRzSKgtlpc0/TwhdhGYMAOI/AAAAAAAABNs/pai8Ok1V5Tk/s1600/sc11+Roma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hRzSKgtlpc0/TwhdhGYMAOI/AAAAAAAABNs/pai8Ok1V5Tk/s1600/sc11+Roma.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gl5E_DtRyQE/TwheEhLZHbI/AAAAAAAABN0/5-VKcUk7SX0/s1600/sc11+Wazma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gl5E_DtRyQE/TwheEhLZHbI/AAAAAAAABN0/5-VKcUk7SX0/s320/sc11+Wazma.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m4l8xcr8XP8/TwheFdiXLLI/AAAAAAAABN8/VP_r4a-M8xM/s1600/sc11+Zamir.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-m4l8xcr8XP8/TwheFdiXLLI/AAAAAAAABN8/VP_r4a-M8xM/s1600/sc11+Zamir.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
Our own family is being blessed in our new church as well: our kids are engaged, we are making new friends, we are under strong and gifted and personable leadership, but also the Lord had a plan that we had no idea about, and only in glimpses is He revealing the perfection of how He has set this thing up. We are thankful for a pastor who, without having known us long, has shown a heart to welcome and serve our refugee friends alongside others and ourselves, continually making available his network of resources for their benefit. Yesterday I met a church member who has offered <a href="http://vacationlandinn.com/">a wonderful first home</a> to our friends, and I can see in her spirit a mothering heart that will bless them tremendously. I received an email from a Russian woman at church, who I have yet to meet in person, who is eager to welcome our Russian-speaking friends and be a friend to them herself. <b> </b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>God is good. All the time. When we understand fully and when we don't. We always know He's good. So we can go into the places He leads with confidence that He will be glorified and we will be blessed!</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">When we returned last summer from Sunshine, I cried. I cried the whole way across Europe, across the ocean and into Boston. I fell asleep briefly on a bus ride from Boston to Bangor, but when I woke up, I cried more. I cried at the grocery store the first time I went after returning home, because I saw sunflowers for sale. And Sasha's village is filled with sunflowers (which are prettier than the ones here). I cried at random times for months. My heart was so leveled by our trip to Ukraine. I truly wanted to pack up my family and all we could fit in suitcases and move to Sunshine and look after the kids. (This was not possible or what God was asking right now, however.) My heart was in a million pieces, having seen a bit of what the Lord is doing there and how tremendous the needs are and how precious the people. </div><div style="font-weight: bold;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AVofTnam05o/Twhfj3BdZYI/AAAAAAAABOE/MzLCQwFDLns/s1600/DSC_0542_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AVofTnam05o/Twhfj3BdZYI/AAAAAAAABOE/MzLCQwFDLns/s320/DSC_0542_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NwAREHalW-s/TwhgB347fMI/AAAAAAAABOM/cxe5sKy9nKo/s1600/DSC_0555_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NwAREHalW-s/TwhgB347fMI/AAAAAAAABOM/cxe5sKy9nKo/s320/DSC_0555_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1xKmtz4wWAw/TwhgkZFUDEI/AAAAAAAABOU/m40L9aTkoMo/s1600/DSC_0575_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1xKmtz4wWAw/TwhgkZFUDEI/AAAAAAAABOU/m40L9aTkoMo/s320/DSC_0575_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PKk1R-3VH58/TwhhCXa2EAI/AAAAAAAABOc/PZooVpeMM44/s1600/DSC_0585_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PKk1R-3VH58/TwhhCXa2EAI/AAAAAAAABOc/PZooVpeMM44/s320/DSC_0585_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DORJUey9Ts0/TwhheVYWOEI/AAAAAAAABOk/HDx0etlONHw/s1600/DSC_0586_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DORJUey9Ts0/TwhheVYWOEI/AAAAAAAABOk/HDx0etlONHw/s320/DSC_0586_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<br />
<b>But spending myself last year on behalf of others... that was good. It was necessary. It has to be a permanent lifestyle. Because it is the only way of true joy. It's the only way to set aside the things that are heavy and to pick up the joy of the Lord.</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
On my oldest daughter's 13th birthday, just a week away, we will be receiving a really huge gift from the Lord. It is then the family we came to love dearly at Sunshine will be arriving in Maine, to enter into the new future the Lord has prepared. They will be driven by a missionary friend we've known for two years but will meet in person for the first time. His church in Kentucky is funding their move and a large part of their initial lodging. And a church in Bangor, where we barely even know anyone yet, is awaiting their arrival with open hearts and arms. Friends from all over my part of the state - from a number of churches and businesses and families - have reached out to this family for over a year, so although it's their first time stepping foot in Maine, the Lord has prepared a place for these refugees to find refuge in Him and in presence of His people. <br />
<br />
<b>It's this type of chasing, this type of investment of time and energy, that causes the Lord's great beauty to eclipse the battles that go on in life.</b> The hard stuff is small in light of the greatness of my God. We have to fix our focus. <br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>Our hearts are a bit like our eyes. We can really only look at one thing at a time. </b><br />
<b>We can look <i>inward</i>, or we can look <i>upward</i>. </b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b>I'd like to encourage you to join me in 2012 in a bit of a challenge. I'd like this to be a year of looking up. </b><i> It's not always easy. I'll probably fall short a lot of days. But if you'd like to point your heart's focus upward with me, we will certainly see the Lord resolve the peripheral stuff</i>, the battles that only He can fight anyway, the troubles this world tosses toward us, the things that we really can't control. <i>What we can control is how we aim our gaze... We will be seeing most whatever it is we are looking at, right? </i><b> Let's look together at the beauty of our Lord Jesus Christ and chase hard after the things He has in mind for us to do in His service, for His glory. </b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<i>(And check out this awesome promise God makes us, if we're willing to live other-focused and Christ-focused! Who'd want to miss this!?)</i><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">to loose the chains of injustice</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">and untie the cords of the yoke, </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">to set the oppressed free</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">and break every yoke?</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">Is it not to share your food with the hungry</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter - </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">when you see the naked, to clothe him, </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">Then your light will break forth like the dawn, </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">and your healing will quickly appear; </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">then your righteousness will go before you, </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">Then you will call, and the Lord will andwer;</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><br />
</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">If you do away with the yoke of oppression, </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">with the pointing finger and malicious talk, </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">then your light will rise in the darkness, </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">and your night will become like the noonday.</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">The Lord will guide you always;</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">and will strenghten your frame.</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">You will be like a well-watered garden, </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">like a spring whose waters never fail." (Isaiah 58:6-11)</span></i></b><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><br />
</b>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-74601118973351863312011-11-11T21:45:00.000-05:002011-11-11T21:45:38.043-05:00One Small Thing for One Great PurposeHe probably has no idea how much he's given us. There is a gray and yellow set of tea cups and saucers in my china cabinet, which he handed me on a subway in Kiev. He bought them for us with money he should have used for himself. Sasha gave us chocolates also. But he did more. He let us in. He gave us his trust. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RJQjB6Hmew0/Tr2f7bb8NPI/AAAAAAAABMQ/s99rYG7fHeU/s1600/DSC_0067.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RJQjB6Hmew0/Tr2f7bb8NPI/AAAAAAAABMQ/s99rYG7fHeU/s320/DSC_0067.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><b>And he gave us an opportunity to trust in a God who asks more of us than we have resources to give... A God who wants the "yes" from us and will supply all we need to give in response. </b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
For two years I've wrestled with the Lord about my desire to have control over how things go in my life. I have asked God to take me out of my comfort zone, and still I've clung to the familiar and the comfortable. I've asked God for a heart for the orphan, and He's given this to me, and I didn't really know when I asked for it, how much this type of heart can hurt. Or how much this heart is transformed by a love that is focused outward. And upward.<br />
<br />
For two years, I've known Sasha in letters and photos and through stories told by the adults who care for him at Sunshine Center, people who now I call sisters in Christ and dear friends.<br />
<br />
Last year, many dear friends across the country loved on the Sunshine kids with gifts and letters at Christmas. Some of these friends have been broken in their hearts for the child they chose and have kept on giving. <br />
<br />
<b>I don't think Sasha knows that he is really who God used to begin such a sweet pouring out of grace. </b><br />
<br />
The Lord used our friends again last summer to provide all that we needed to fund a trip to Sunshine, and our sweet friends sent us with suitcases filled with gifts for the kids and all the staff who work so hard and so faithfully, so often unnoticed by eyes other than the Lord's.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XkFK1HsLo5U/Tr2gb7PY1ZI/AAAAAAAABMY/gp2W1vjAKKg/s1600/DSC_0853_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XkFK1HsLo5U/Tr2gb7PY1ZI/AAAAAAAABMY/gp2W1vjAKKg/s320/DSC_0853_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Selden played a version of soccer-basketball with Sasha and Zamir one afternoon. We visited a Ilja in the hospital. Oksana and Olia and Misha swung me so high on a bench swing that I was shrieking, and we were laughing, and Misha was making silly noises like our Eli does. <br />
<br />
<b>And so often we would see our own children in these kids. </b><br />
<br />
I washed dishes with Aleksandra, and I made hamburger patties with Olia and Oksana and some other girls. Kanishko helped Selden roast marshmallows for s'mores. Manoz never stopped smiling, not even once. Katia came quietly to me before we left and gave me a small bear. Valik, in his camo pajamas, ran into the room we sat in with Ilia, having tea and talking about how she felt about moving to the States, and he hugged me over and over. Then he gave me a little stuffed monkey. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RANZMcCNdcs/Tr2gtqdqykI/AAAAAAAABMg/EzA0yx-I1l8/s1600/DSC_0144_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RANZMcCNdcs/Tr2gtqdqykI/AAAAAAAABMg/EzA0yx-I1l8/s320/DSC_0144_2.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>How can kids we travelled acoss continents to serve be the ones giving so freely? <br />
<br />
How is it that I am receiving so much more than I feel I am giving? <br />
<br />
<b>Or is that just the way it is, when we give in Jesus' name, that it is really we ourselves who continue to be filled to overflowing, so that the giving is not an emptying at all? </b><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-StaMJ6KpX3o/Tr2hsoMZQ9I/AAAAAAAABMw/9kxMT2WcjyE/s1600/DSC_0161_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-StaMJ6KpX3o/Tr2hsoMZQ9I/AAAAAAAABMw/9kxMT2WcjyE/s320/DSC_0161_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>When we receive from a God of limitless resources, why do I continue to be surprised by the capacity He has to do still more?<br />
<br />
It is the time of year again when I am putting together the Facebook group <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/285456811487296/">"Sunshine Christmas 2011" </a>for the gift giving project, and this year there are significantly more children who are listed. Please pray with me that each child will be chosen by someone and will be blessed, even as I know each of those generous hearts who give will be blessed even more. <br />
<br />
If you would like to be part of what God is doing to remind kids who have had very difficult circumstances to face so far in their lives that they are remembered, that they are loved, that they have been chosen to receive something special, that they are prayed for... <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/285456811487296/">please come on over</a> and join us.<br />
<br />
Please share this project with your friends as well. I would like to personally invite you to be part of loving the orphan, part of doing one small thing for one great cause: that Jesus Christ would be glorified!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dMvPVwQFq68/Tr2hKv0Nu8I/AAAAAAAABMo/3sac26Jpm8o/s1600/DSC_0155_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dMvPVwQFq68/Tr2hKv0Nu8I/AAAAAAAABMo/3sac26Jpm8o/s320/DSC_0155_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>(And please pray for our family at this time as well. We are updating our adoption home study, for what is now a third time. I'm not sure at all what the Lord has planned, but when He shows us His will, we will be ready.)</i>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-82141682025002232452011-10-14T10:31:00.000-04:002011-10-14T10:31:03.335-04:00How to Cling to Fleeting Seasons<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Chilly raindrops slice sideways through the air. Trees are blazing with autumn. The leaves are staying on late this year. This is my favorite season. Not the rain, but the colors. And the crisp sun that promises to return, even in the gray of the sky today. This season when we light the wood stove, and the kitchen air is heavy with the aroma of apples we've picked at the orchard now baking, and we spend evenings around the table playing games... this is my favorite. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qOZ6sA1ucTg/Tpg--t3YlNI/AAAAAAAABBk/I_465kGaO1Q/s1600/DSC_0785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qOZ6sA1ucTg/Tpg--t3YlNI/AAAAAAAABBk/I_465kGaO1Q/s320/DSC_0785.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dc3HtOWC9pc/Tpg-IetKoUI/AAAAAAAABBU/fU9Dvux5534/s1600/DSC_0612.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Dc3HtOWC9pc/Tpg-IetKoUI/AAAAAAAABBU/fU9Dvux5534/s320/DSC_0612.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
If we get much more rain, the leaves will drop, and I will shake my head at the knowing that winter is on its way. But right now, it is still autumn. And pumpkins sit plump and jolly on my porch steps, which still need painting. I meant to paint those this summer.<br />
<br />
My life is like this, I notice.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sfAO66uzB6w/Tpg5beIkJWI/AAAAAAAAA_k/70654cEYm9E/s1600/DSC_1178.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sfAO66uzB6w/Tpg5beIkJWI/AAAAAAAAA_k/70654cEYm9E/s320/DSC_1178.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oy-YPH2eTro/Tpg9W4DWixI/AAAAAAAABBE/7Jq7MyE1pWk/s1600/DSC_0056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oy-YPH2eTro/Tpg9W4DWixI/AAAAAAAABBE/7Jq7MyE1pWk/s320/DSC_0056.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><br />
It's this season of child-rearing which is beautiful and fleeting and full of projects I meant to do and days I have spent doing other things instead. Because there will always be next spring for porch steps, but days good for apple picking with friends are rare.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rkhvc8aeusU/Tpg_h5LPoDI/AAAAAAAABBs/JeXKRz9mc8M/s1600/DSC_0790.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rkhvc8aeusU/Tpg_h5LPoDI/AAAAAAAABBs/JeXKRz9mc8M/s320/DSC_0790.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xcYX_sSXdJQ/TpgxOFXPyAI/AAAAAAAAA_E/JM8FgWni0Hc/s1600/IMG_2937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xcYX_sSXdJQ/TpgxOFXPyAI/AAAAAAAAA_E/JM8FgWni0Hc/s320/IMG_2937.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>I notice that so much of my day is this routine of things I do that just get undone within hours, but in the being here to do them, I am witnessing the season of life I have right now with these kids who grow so quickly. In the rhythm of life playing out as a series of carpools and swapping out too-small clothes from dresser drawers and shredding boiled chicken for stew, I am here. In this. With them. <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>And hard as I try, I can't slow down time, but I can cling to it by my presence in these ordinary moments, which I am coming to realize are the substance of the comforts of home and family anyway.</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<br />
The fiery colors of childhood spill out all over my house as piles of shoes that fit feet I can't believe have grown so much and notes about sports and music and little piles of books with dog-eared pages and flour strewn on my kitchen floor and over the little chair pulled up to the counter where my helper has stood.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KzbRfvu4eLo/Tpg8jj2HRrI/AAAAAAAABAc/fi1DVsogfrM/s1600/IMG_3938.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KzbRfvu4eLo/Tpg8jj2HRrI/AAAAAAAABAc/fi1DVsogfrM/s320/IMG_3938.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YQO4eEVlerc/Tpg89ICdqWI/AAAAAAAABA0/sGyWmaqSd5o/s1600/IMG_3950.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YQO4eEVlerc/Tpg89ICdqWI/AAAAAAAABA0/sGyWmaqSd5o/s320/IMG_3950.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TAvEFbFXi3o/Tpg82DScGjI/AAAAAAAABAs/Fh5vKvs9B7I/s1600/IMG_3946.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TAvEFbFXi3o/Tpg82DScGjI/AAAAAAAABAs/Fh5vKvs9B7I/s320/IMG_3946.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
I stand with my feet in two parts of the same season, as I watch a little one just learning, and I witness the transformation of my oldest ones into young adults, and I feel some days like I'm stradling an expanse so large I may lose my footing, and then some days that space is so small.<br />
<br />
And I can't believe how quickly all these years have gone. <br />
Please, eyes, don't miss one single beautiful moment!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E_klQXrEuTA/Tpg8A92Yf4I/AAAAAAAABAM/iNXg3RlRP2A/s1600/DSC_0161.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-E_klQXrEuTA/Tpg8A92Yf4I/AAAAAAAABAM/iNXg3RlRP2A/s320/DSC_0161.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hl8VI2n73q4/Tpg9sNmj2aI/AAAAAAAABBM/vCSsopYIYv4/s1600/DSC_0542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hl8VI2n73q4/Tpg9sNmj2aI/AAAAAAAABBM/vCSsopYIYv4/s320/DSC_0542.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k3nz-0mJ29w/TphAAy0B4kI/AAAAAAAABB0/S9sEy3aJp9I/s1600/DSC_0805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-k3nz-0mJ29w/TphAAy0B4kI/AAAAAAAABB0/S9sEy3aJp9I/s320/DSC_0805.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--fjMxKpEVxM/Tpg-jh6IdXI/AAAAAAAABBc/Z3CBNZFzjyY/s1600/DSC_0648.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--fjMxKpEVxM/Tpg-jh6IdXI/AAAAAAAABBc/Z3CBNZFzjyY/s320/DSC_0648.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>The leaves flash their brilliant reds and yellows. The mountains appear to be on fire above jagged granite. It's something magnificent to behold. My oldest paces with her cross country team before the championship. My son holds his little sister on his lap at the edge of the grass-soaked field, her pink rubber rain boots on proud display above his grass-stained knees. I breathe deep, the fresh air of autumn rainfall in the Maine countryside.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ehrvu3lBrhc/Tpg6jsHWoaI/AAAAAAAAA_0/yn8HyEZugVA/s1600/DSC_0189.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ehrvu3lBrhc/Tpg6jsHWoaI/AAAAAAAAA_0/yn8HyEZugVA/s320/DSC_0189.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
And I stand for a moment quite still, thankful for a moment like this to savor before the change of season.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i><b>"Let each generation tell its children of your mighty acts; let them proclaim your power." Psalm 145:4</b></i></span>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-20924069721757132062011-10-06T08:49:00.000-04:002011-10-06T10:00:09.381-04:00Saying Goodbye to a Good DogThe doctor brought her in wrapped in a pink towel, like a baby. This dog who has suffered recently with pain, the source of which we never could quite identify, wore a small IVin her paw, so when the time was right - whatever "right" is when saying goodbye - the doctor could inject the solution easily into her vein. I put my face in her fur, and she licked my nose. "You're a good girl, Fifi," I whispered.<br />
<br />
Goodbyes are not easy for me. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mr-VQZ84Gnk/To2dOw1CPDI/AAAAAAAAA_A/B2QjqIewWL8/s1600/DSC_0186.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mr-VQZ84Gnk/To2dOw1CPDI/AAAAAAAAA_A/B2QjqIewWL8/s320/DSC_0186.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>I wasn't sure how long it is I was supposed to hold her before cracking the door of the exam room to let the vet know that I was ready. I mean, I've been getting to "ready" for a little while, because we've all seen Fifi suffering a little here and there, and some days, a lot. Her little Papillon frame, so small, hunched over in cramps and pain, running to the door, crying out sharp yelps of pain. Neighbors have come over, one today wearing just a robe, concerned at the sound of her out in the yard, trying to go to the bathroom.<br />
<br />
This is no way for a girl like Fifi to live. Fifi thought she was a princess, you see. <br />
<br />
When she was tiny, she had a whole day where she was named Coco Chanel. (That was my doing.) Lia, at five, told me that wasn't a good name, so we changed it to Fifi. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bUKCa3zzE6k/To2cXWZGZGI/AAAAAAAAA-4/bv1IME9tSSo/s1600/DSC_0154.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bUKCa3zzE6k/To2cXWZGZGI/AAAAAAAAA-4/bv1IME9tSSo/s320/DSC_0154.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Fifi rode in the car with me to work at my nail salon. Certain clients loved Fifi very much, and she would often be found sleeping on their laps. One woman walked half-sitting, so as not to disturb Fifi when it was time for her appointment, as she tiptoed quietly from the waiting area to my table. Other clients didn't care for Fifi, and I think Fifi could tell, because she would stand square in the middle of the floor, ears sticking straight out to the side, tail tucked under, sort of glaring. "Shannon, your dog is giving me dirty looks," one such client announced. (She was right. It was true.) <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fABQXzv2A2Y/To2aEqbuwJI/AAAAAAAAA-k/11C0fnQtjVI/s1600/DSC_0784.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fABQXzv2A2Y/To2aEqbuwJI/AAAAAAAAA-k/11C0fnQtjVI/s320/DSC_0784.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Fifi had a bark that would take you out of your seat. It wasn't lovely at all. She was a yapping, tiny dog who I believe, thought she was a cat. If I was reading a magazine, Fifi would stand on it. When we had a couch with a cushier back, Fifi would walk along the back of the sofa. Not a day of my life went by when Fifi's yapping didn't cause me to say, "Good grief, Fifi, shut up." Until my two-year old started saying, "Shut up, Fifi." Then I began to say, "Quiet!" But Fifi was <i>never</i> quiet.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0mboJckXdIo/To0Y-f31vWI/AAAAAAAAA-c/hpWGE6UEKQA/s1600/DSC_0764.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0mboJckXdIo/To0Y-f31vWI/AAAAAAAAA-c/hpWGE6UEKQA/s320/DSC_0764.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>My husband fell in love with me despite Fifi. She sort of came with the package. When he first met us, Fifi wore faux fur vests (even though she has real fur), and she often had painted toenails. Once, he had to drop me off briefly at the store, and he and Eli, who was then 4, went to the McDonald's drive-thru. Fifi was parked in Selden's lap at the window. He wasn't sure what to say about this little dog wearing a Barbie-brand denim vest with butterflies embroidered on it, except, "Um, she's not actually mine." Sure, buddy, that's why she's sitting in your lap. They've always had a love-hate relationship. That could have well been the end of Fifi's vest-wearing days.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aeYAeHtOFU4/To2czp7jv_I/AAAAAAAAA-8/8pmJzPfpS8U/s1600/DSC_0180.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aeYAeHtOFU4/To2czp7jv_I/AAAAAAAAA-8/8pmJzPfpS8U/s320/DSC_0180.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>When Sage came home from the hospital, Fifi refused to come when I called her. I thought she was having an attitude about the baby. I was wrong. She was sitting next to where Sage was lying. Fifi's expression was fully alert, like she was looking after the baby.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-716o_l9V50Y/To0YkA15XPI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/-SBvjDlBJf0/s1600/DSC_0392.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-716o_l9V50Y/To0YkA15XPI/AAAAAAAAA-Y/-SBvjDlBJf0/s320/DSC_0392.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Summer vacation weeks, Fifi came with us to my Dad's. She rode out on the front of the paddle boat while Eli went fishing. She sunned herself on the dock. She went out in the bass boat with Selden and strained to see the ripples in the water where the fish were leaping. When he caught one, she would come close to falling out of the boat to get a first peek. (He may not have really liked her, but he let her fish with him, so I think underneath the tough exterior, Selden had a soft spot for Fifi..... Although he would probably beg to differ.)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-POg8DxFIV1E/To2b6J9ChoI/AAAAAAAAA-0/atHksQVQPnU/s1600/DSC_0150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-POg8DxFIV1E/To2b6J9ChoI/AAAAAAAAA-0/atHksQVQPnU/s320/DSC_0150.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
In the summer, we sprayed streams of water from the hose, and Fifi ran circles to chase it, sometimes getting too close to the hose, and then sneezing out nostrils full of water. You've never seen a worse looking sight than a drenched Papillon. Ever. It's not pretty.<br />
<br />
My mother provided "foster care" for Fifi for a few months a couple years ago. She noticed Fifi would bring each individual piece of food up to the couch to chew it, so she set (literally set) Fifi a place on the sofa. Placemat, bowls... it was elegant. And Fifi didn't have to run back and forth between bites. Grandparents really know how to spoil a dog.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2074jy_8kLE/To2ajxO0vcI/AAAAAAAAA-o/hx6Gq58uO_8/s1600/DSC_0348.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2074jy_8kLE/To2ajxO0vcI/AAAAAAAAA-o/hx6Gq58uO_8/s320/DSC_0348.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>One year, my mom bought Fifi a lobster suit. It was a scream to see her wearing this thing, with claws and antennae. Fifi skulked. Though she did expect to be the center of attention, she was certainly not sure a lobster suit was quite dignified enough for her. The next year my mom bought her a peacock suit. Fifi wore it, seemingly happy. Until I noticed later that it smelled like pee. That dog had a passive-aggressive moment and wriggled out of the suit and peed on it! And I didn't notice until later, when I was holding her in my lap... Nice, Fifi. Really nice.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-auKknA_qwjw/To2beZpfAJI/AAAAAAAAA-w/Ty0x_Vc5kTc/s1600/DSC_0116.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-auKknA_qwjw/To2beZpfAJI/AAAAAAAAA-w/Ty0x_Vc5kTc/s320/DSC_0116.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>For the past month, though, Fifi has not been herself. Sure, she's yapped and barked. She's run like a fool all over the house. But she hasn't been feeling well. Her walking became labored. Her sitting down, tentative. It was clear she was hurting. <br />
<br />
So, the doctor brought her in to me in a pink towel. I held her like a baby, which I realized I'd not done enough in recent months, what with life so crazy and things so busy. I put my face in her fur, and a tear fell onto her head. I wasn't sure what to say to this dog who's driven me nuts and made me smile. Mostly, I looked at her, felt the tiny weight of her all bundled up and cozy in my arms. I thought my goodbyes quietly. Memories flipped through my mind like slides.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b36ywCRIntI/To2a-IHp9EI/AAAAAAAAA-s/8T-rh8hmvdI/s1600/DSC_0058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-b36ywCRIntI/To2a-IHp9EI/AAAAAAAAA-s/8T-rh8hmvdI/s320/DSC_0058.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Walking to the door, I opened it and said quietly to the vet, "We're ready." <br />
<br />
Fifi whimpered just a little at the solution the doctor injected. "You're a good girl, Fif," I said. "I love you. You're a good girl." And she was still. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-1269620679064580542011-09-29T09:48:00.000-04:002011-09-30T10:14:08.179-04:00Breath of GraceSomewhere in the middle of all the crazy, the noisy, the messy, the overwhelming, You are there. You find me, still small, too small for all this day holds up for me to manage, and You offer me Your strength.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lYCy8s-fz-Q/ToRrYM4zkvI/AAAAAAAAA98/rmKdce0Lfzs/s1600/DSC_0626.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lYCy8s-fz-Q/ToRrYM4zkvI/AAAAAAAAA98/rmKdce0Lfzs/s320/DSC_0626.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
Treading hard to keep my head above the rush of current that sweeps me up into moments of relentless trying-hard, You fill my lungs with Your breath of grace. I inhale the fragrance of Your life poured out so that Your Spirit in me is my strength. You didn't mean for me to ever try to face the swells alone. You know I can't. So You have made a way for me. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fIqOFHSodIY/ToRr43ELhiI/AAAAAAAAA-A/DUTFqgFwycI/s1600/DSC_0629.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fIqOFHSodIY/ToRr43ELhiI/AAAAAAAAA-A/DUTFqgFwycI/s320/DSC_0629.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Why, so many days, do I press hard through deep waters and carry the weight of this life without You? Why do I sometimes let my heart feel overwhelmed in the middle of days You've already promised to spend with me? When will I get this grace and faith and peace walk right?<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i>"When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you." Isaiah 43:2</i></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hzjowq3cgeg/ToRwNhPPlBI/AAAAAAAAA-E/WCnhGSLrnyQ/s1600/DSC_0720.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hzjowq3cgeg/ToRwNhPPlBI/AAAAAAAAA-E/WCnhGSLrnyQ/s320/DSC_0720.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
You are patient with me, Lord. You never complain when I need You to teach me the same lesson over and over. You see the tender heart You gave me. You know its limitations, and You so gently cover me with Your faithfulness. You quiet the storms in me with Your sweet voice. You lead me through the days I fight to conquer on my own, and You love me even in my stubbornness. <br />
<br />
I don't deserve You, and You give Yourself to me still. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lZsLfR8paxM/ToRzN00xnJI/AAAAAAAAA-I/xzmjwJmXT_U/s1600/DSC_0448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lZsLfR8paxM/ToRzN00xnJI/AAAAAAAAA-I/xzmjwJmXT_U/s320/DSC_0448.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kRq_zefoTms/ToRztP_6eUI/AAAAAAAAA-M/kO5hgRPEfXY/s1600/DSC_0650.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kRq_zefoTms/ToRztP_6eUI/AAAAAAAAA-M/kO5hgRPEfXY/s320/DSC_0650.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H4h4C0ovfJo/ToRz-P1IUUI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/XcKaLi-DS3E/s1600/DSC_0497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-H4h4C0ovfJo/ToRz-P1IUUI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/XcKaLi-DS3E/s320/DSC_0497.JPG" width="212" /></a></div><br />
Please teach me to how to live each of my moments in the fullness of Your grace, to let Your peace and love flood my life, so that all I have to give out is grace. The burdens I struggle to surrender, the dreams I don't know how to let go of, please help me uncurl my fingers from around those things that I hold onto more tightly than I do Your hand. <br />
<br />
Show me how to raise up little lives in Your grace alone and by Your Word and Your Spirit. I know I have to be good at recieving all this from You if I'm going to be good at giving it to them. Thank You, Lord, that You give me what I don't deserve. Thank You for all You've entrusted to my care and promise to help me do for Your glory. <br />
<br />
Thank you for helping me breathe in the fullness of Your grace.<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus." 1 Timothy 1:14</span></i>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-19543506948442294922011-09-16T14:39:00.000-04:002011-09-16T14:39:48.012-04:00Substance of Things Hoped ForWe've been back for almost three weeks, I think, and I haven't really posted anything about our trip to Ukraine. Please let me say I'm sorry about that. So many of you gave your time, bought gifts, made generous donations, prayed faithfully, and I promised to keep you posted, and I haven't done well with that at all. And it's not because I haven't thought of it. I've actually thought of little else. It's just that I haven't been able to sit and write without crying. <br />
<br />
There is no way that I could have ever known how deeply personal, how intensely emotional and how heart-stoppingly overwhelming this whole experience would have been. I knew it would be unforgettable. I knew I would cry when I first met Sasha. I knew that when my eyes fell on his face in a crowd of people, I would mark that instant as a gift from my Father in heaven. I knew our friends Oksana and Ania would be amazing. And I knew it would be excrutiating to leave all of these people behind and return home. But I didn't know how much this week would level my heart and bring me to a screeching halt and render me wordless (wonder of wonders). I didn't know I would feel like I was leaving home and saying goodbye to my children both times I boarded the plane. Truly, I could not even speak of this week without floods of tears (on airplanes, in airports, even a week later in the grocery store parking lot!). So I just haven't known how to put all this into words. <br />
<br />
But I need to try.<br />
<br />
You have all been part of what God did in our family while we were in Ukraine. So I will begin to try to put into words the indescribable goodness of God we experienced in our trip to Sunshine.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kyQRH4-mUdY/TnOT0zcaTTI/AAAAAAAAA90/DEf7pz1jwnY/s1600/sasha+kiev+airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kyQRH4-mUdY/TnOT0zcaTTI/AAAAAAAAA90/DEf7pz1jwnY/s400/sasha+kiev+airport.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<i>This exact moment, it was a gift from the hand of God. Each of our moments are. But this one, it's one I can mark to the second. Capture in a photo. Keep tucked in my heart. A perfectly ordinary-looking moment containing the invisible substance of an answered prayer. </i><br />
<br />
<i>And I recall that<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"> "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen." (Hebrews 11:1) </span>This moment. This walking out the doors of an airport amidst throngs of strangers and also amidst long prayed-over friends. This is the substance of things hoped for in my heart. This is what faith looks like...</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2WFGhMTdgo/TnOT3CVLeBI/AAAAAAAAA94/lTsCwIDzK7Y/s1600/sasha+us+marshrutka.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Q2WFGhMTdgo/TnOT3CVLeBI/AAAAAAAAA94/lTsCwIDzK7Y/s400/sasha+us+marshrutka.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-89426999353418094592011-09-09T10:53:00.000-04:002011-09-09T13:57:34.398-04:00Guest-posting at Project HOPEFUL's blog today. Come on along!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A7DiwLdIUMQ/TmojIv2CiuI/AAAAAAAAA9w/D8w65kTrwM4/s1600/DSC_0090_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-A7DiwLdIUMQ/TmojIv2CiuI/AAAAAAAAA9w/D8w65kTrwM4/s320/DSC_0090_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
This morning I've been given the opportunity to share a little about our visit to the orphanage in Kiev where the children with HIV or and other medical needs live. It was truly an answer to prayer to have this open door, and another answer to prayer to be able to take photographs. There is so much to tell you about our trip, but today, I'd love to have you <a href="http://projecthopeful.wordpress.com/2011/09/09/advocacy-in-eastern-europe/#comment-826">come on over to the Project HOPEFUL blog with me!</a><br />
<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families." Psalm 68:5-6</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-26236710527046053072011-08-20T13:34:00.000-04:002011-08-20T13:34:12.877-04:00Sort of on our way!We're just about at the Boston airport. After a trying-not-too-cry-too-much round of goodbyes at home, we are finally on the road. I woke up early, and there were already several middle of the night texts on my phone from Lia, while she was in her bed, promising to pray for us and to take good care of Sage (sniffle!). I kissed my babies goodbye, and little Sage (who typically prefers to save her kisses for Daddy) tole me, when I asked for one more, "But Mom, I alweady DO DAT!" So I laughed, and it was a good distraction from crying, and I kissed Lia another one and scooted to the car. Love those girls. And love our guy, who we didn't get to kiss goodbye this morning but who we'll see soon!<br />
<br />
The week's been crazy. We're at the airport, so I'm gonna run, and I'll keep you all updated as we go. <br />
<br />
Love and prayers that you all are doing well! <br />
Off we go!Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-85857057599036385832011-08-15T08:45:00.000-04:002011-08-15T08:45:58.807-04:00Living an Answered PrayerThis morning I did my usual routine. When the alarm went off, I hopped up, ironed my husband's clothes, and then I climbed back under the covers while he showered and got ready for work. As I was waking, I felt impressed upon to look at 1 Thessalonians. I walked Selden downstairs, got his lunch and kissed him goodbye. I stood, waving in the doorway, as I have for years. And I still could hear in my spirit that I needed to sit down with this particular book of the Bible.<br />
<br />
When I leafed through the pages, I saw my small handwriting and a date, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;"><i>4/16/11</i></span> in the margin. What I'd written was <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #0b5394;">"Prayer for going to Sasha and Sunshine."</span></i> Some portions of Scripture were underlined:<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i>"How can we thank God enough for you in return for all the joy we have in the presence of our God because of you?</i></span></u></b><br />
<b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i><br />
</i></span></u></b><br />
<b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i>Night and day we pray most earnestly that we may see you again and supply what is lacking in your faith.</i></span></u></b><br />
<b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i><br />
</i></span></u></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i><u>Now may our God and Father himself and our Lord Jesus clear the way for us to come to you."</u> 1 Thessalonians 3:9-11</i></span></b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qB9g_efwHkg/TkkT0tEw3WI/AAAAAAAAA9o/zcK_4mT9ZOA/s1600/DSC_0058.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qB9g_efwHkg/TkkT0tEw3WI/AAAAAAAAA9o/zcK_4mT9ZOA/s320/DSC_0058.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i><br />
</i></span></b><br />
<b><u><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i><br />
</i></span></u></b><br />
And there, in the quiet of the morning, I open God's Word, and I see His faithfulness. I see my prayers spilled out in my own handwriting, and I realize I am living in the midst of His answers to my heart's greatest longings. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-25955383274656363782011-08-04T09:53:00.000-04:002011-08-04T09:53:25.644-04:00A Growing Season<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qu-SB76xj9w/TjnPy5jx4oI/AAAAAAAAA9U/Ytl3bxPYzFU/s1600/DSC_0018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Qu-SB76xj9w/TjnPy5jx4oI/AAAAAAAAA9U/Ytl3bxPYzFU/s320/DSC_0018.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Over a year ago, I did something dangerous. I don't recommend you try this at home, unless you're ready for what will happen afterward. Over and over, throughout the winter of last year, I prayed that God would stretch me, take me out of my comfort zone and bring me to rely on Him alone. And He has. And He is.<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"He must become greater; I must become less." John 3:10</span></i><br />
<br />
In so many ways, God is stripping away what is me, what is comfortable. I can look a short ways behind me now, and I see how very much I have always relied on myself. If I couldn't see the end of the road, I would typically not step foot on it. But in God's answering my prayer for more unleashing of faith and total reliance on Him, He is calling me and my husband to step out into new places and agree to do more than we could possibly do on our own. It's a beautiful, raw, unbridled faith-testing, this going into the unknown. Each step along the way, God is using His Word as "a lamp unto our feet and a light unto our path." And He is bringing precious travellers alongside us.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7L58UTGh_Qk/TjnQOQdcsxI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/KE6l9dZdslc/s1600/DSC_0163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7L58UTGh_Qk/TjnQOQdcsxI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/KE6l9dZdslc/s320/DSC_0163.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
My eyes are opening daily to more and more need. It is everywhere, in this broken world we call home for now. The love of Christ for the orphan has taken root in my heart, and over the course of a few years of learning about what the Word of God says about orphans and what my responsibility is to them, I am digging deeper and deeper into the dark places of our world, asking the Holy Spirit to really let me <i>see</i>. At one time, I lived in my own world, enjoying my own "stuff" and giving my tithes and doing nice things as long as it didn't cost me my own comforts. I can't see what Jesus sacrificed for me, and see the hurting world around me, and continue to live for myself, though. It just isn't possible. Christ poured out His own blood for me, and I have never been worthy of what I cost him. How can I possibly see those needs around me and not consider them worthy of a cost to myself?<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"But the king replied to Araunah, 'No, I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the LORD my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing.'" 2 Samuel 24:24</span></i><br />
<br />
God is revealing to my heart that there are many types of offering I can make to Him. My praise in the midst of trials. Money I set aside for something for me that I can instead use for someone else. Being afraid to fly over the ocean and getting on the plane anyway, to go where the Lord send us. The willingness to miss my babies for a week to shower a boy we consider family, and who misses <i>his</i> parents every single day of his life, with the love of a mom and dad. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qV7qzcdWRVg/TjnRDv88wSI/AAAAAAAAA9g/HhwooJDD0dM/s1600/DSC_0177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qV7qzcdWRVg/TjnRDv88wSI/AAAAAAAAA9g/HhwooJDD0dM/s320/DSC_0177.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">What started as a heart for adoption, a heart for the orphan, is being grown into a heart more burdened by the brokenness in this world... into a heart that knows more about <a href="http://www.exoduscry.com/">human trafficking</a> and that many orphans wind up in sex slavery all across this planet and even in our nation, because they are easy victims of evil people in a hugely profitable industry... a heart that knows kids watch their parents die of AIDS, sometimes curled up beside them as they succumb to the horrible death AIDS inflicts on its victims, and then wind up heads of households at age 10... a heart that knows there are little babies and children living in this world with HIV who have no family and are considered nothing more than what, in our Lord's time, people considered the lepers - filthy, outcast, throw-away people, and that is not who they are or how God considers them... and I now know these kids can actually be <a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/waiting-kids">adopted</a> and with meds we have access to here, can live a <i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_343824048">normal</a></i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_343824048"> </a><i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_343824048">life</a></i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_343824048"> </a><i><a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/truth-pandemic">span</a>. </i>I am now aware that as my kids splash their summer days away in swimming pools and lakes, there are whole communities dying slowly from lack of clean water. I know there are little children with empty bellies, and they all have names and faces and stories. And God doesn't desire my guilt at having health and having food on the table and clean water to splash in, because it is the Lord who blesses us with these things. But He is clear in His Word that I have a duty, and He has given me a desire to act. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"Defend the cause of the weak and fatherless; maintain the right of the poor and oppressed. Rescue the weak and needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked." Psalm 82:3-4</span></i><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div><i></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i>"Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy." Proverbs 31:8-9</i></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Recently, as I'm drawn more in love with the children in our world and in our own country who are orphans, God is not allowing me to be content living with blinders on. I can feel my heart seeking out more understanding, and I'm asking God to give me His eyes and His heart and His strength. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As we prepare to go on our first trip to Eastern Europe, we ask you would be praying for us. The Lord is so faithful to guide us in the direction of His will. It's a huge gift from the hand of God Himself to be able to look our Sasha in the face and tell him he is worth the travel and that he is loved by us and by the Lord. That moment, and all the moments we will spend in his company, are an honor which I am humbled to be able to receive. There is not a single person on this earth I would rather meet than our Sasha. Not one. (There's not an 11-year old girl on the planet who wants to meet Justin Bieber any more than we want to meet Sasha!) I cannot tell you how moved my heart is that God is giving us this opportunity. Wow... am I ever going to be crying tears of joy!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'd like to also express my deep thanks for all those (some I know well and others I've never met) who have invested of their time, prayers, finances, energy, and words of encouragement to us. We are going on this mission and bringing you all along in our hearts. We could not do this were it not for your participation, and God is using every single thing you are investing to not only bless us but to make a real impact on the children and caregivers we will be with this month and on children we are working toward supporting in the future. Your gifts are going to have eternal impact, and I am honored to watch your hearts in action. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Please pray that we would be able to accomplish all the Lord intends for us to do. The trip has grown by His grace into one that is allowing us opportunity to work on behalf of orphans in a number of different ways. I'm seeing how small my faith has always been, in light of what I'm learning now about growing in my faith to the point that I press in hard toward the unknown and the too-big and the I-don't-know-how. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i>"Do not despise these small beginnings, for the LORD rejoices to see the work begin!" Zechariah 4:10</i></span></div><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wcNPIygMaWI/TjnRd-GIO5I/AAAAAAAAA9k/xpR3Hm5ifVA/s1600/DSC_0549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wcNPIygMaWI/TjnRd-GIO5I/AAAAAAAAA9k/xpR3Hm5ifVA/s320/DSC_0549.JPG" width="320" /></a></div></div>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-8048093249453243462011-07-25T17:58:00.000-04:002011-07-25T17:58:56.568-04:00Interviewed on Project HOPEFUL's Blog TodayYou've heard me share about Project HOPEFUL and a little about my new role as their Maine Associate, and today I was invited to be <a href="http://projecthopeful.wordpress.com/2011/07/25/meet-up-monday-meet-our-maine-state-associate-shannon-wheeler/">interviewed on their blog. Come on over with me...</a>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-69377738505096087072011-07-22T22:59:00.000-04:002011-07-22T22:59:32.803-04:00Guest Posting On Bangor Daily's "Get Ginafied"! (Come on over...)It's not everyday that manicures and missions collide. I'm really excited to be guest posting today at <a href="http://getginafied.bangordailynews.com/2011/07/22/what-is-more-trendy-than-giving-back/">Get Ginafied</a>, and I'd love to have you <a href="http://getginafied.bangordailynews.com/2011/07/22/what-is-more-trendy-than-giving-back/">follow me over there</a> to hear what all the fuss is about.... <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zZWJYzZMMFI/Tio4Pn3gtMI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/sk1Brc-grFU/s1600/shannon+gina+reunion.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zZWJYzZMMFI/Tio4Pn3gtMI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/sk1Brc-grFU/s1600/shannon+gina+reunion.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Just for fun, here's a photo of me and Gina from the days when we both were blondies!)</span></div>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-76851978816705184192011-07-21T10:12:00.000-04:002011-07-21T10:12:31.853-04:00A Mama's TearsWith tears, I welcome my children into my life, into this world. It's just what I do. I cry. And I say, "Thank you, Jesus." In fact, my husband had to remind me to wait a few more pushes to start crying over Sagie, because I apparently started crying too soon. If that's too much information, please forgive me.<div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-viHoc8tRT2k/TignoJLTVEI/AAAAAAAAA78/RIw1M091ENs/s1600/DSC_0536.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-viHoc8tRT2k/TignoJLTVEI/AAAAAAAAA78/RIw1M091ENs/s320/DSC_0536.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>It's with certainty that I can tell you, I will be crying in a few weeks, when I first set my eyes on my oldest child. The one I did not give birth to, but over whose life my heart and prayers have labored for 20 months. The son who does not share our last name or live in our home, but whose presence in our family has changed us by God's hand in more ways than I can ever list, will quite possibly stand in awe of this red-headed American woman who is crying when she meets him and saying, "Thank you, Jesus" in a language he does not speak. I'm hoping that he'll see the joy in those tears and be blessed to know how much he moves my heart. </div><div><br />
</div><div>His photos hang on our walls. His sleeping bag is rolled up in its case upstairs, alongside Eli's and Lia's. His fishing pole is in our garage. Our two-year old includes him in the list of siblings she prays for at bedtime. But he is not here. There are still a few things in bags on my bedroom floor that I have held off mailing to him. Because I hoped he would be coming here and we could give them to him in person. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Instead, we will take his things to him ourselves next month. <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"> "For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." Isaiah 55: 8-9 </span></i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">We've also been given some wonderful things to share with our friends at Sunshine, from our local Borders, which is closing. (More tears.) We were told that flavored coffee is a big treat to our friends at Sunshine, so Borders has been collecting donations of coffee from wonderfully generous customers, and they have also put together some cool things for the kids!</span></i></div><div><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"><br />
</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rxwPmvGDMHM/Tigql3glkaI/AAAAAAAAA8A/zA8EBUHdu64/s1600/DSC_0551.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rxwPmvGDMHM/Tigql3glkaI/AAAAAAAAA8A/zA8EBUHdu64/s320/DSC_0551.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-flsDHe1JgrA/TigrC7l9xNI/AAAAAAAAA8E/-4Hag5kjdEg/s1600/DSC_0552.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-flsDHe1JgrA/TigrC7l9xNI/AAAAAAAAA8E/-4Hag5kjdEg/s320/DSC_0552.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>We're so encouraged to see how the Lord is providing for our needs as we are going ahead on this trip He has called us to. We have been relying on the Lord for every penny of our travel expenses, and He has provided graciously for all things. We purchased our tickets last week, and we had five bucks to spare! Now we're raising funds for our expenses in-country, and we have been blessed by friends giving, either through Project HOPEFUL's "Donate" button up at the top right of this blog or directly making gifts to us for the things we'll be doing in our ministry overseas. </div><div><br />
</div><div>God is so faithful. I just want to be sure to say that today. He is so faithful, and He is always faithful. If there is anything in your life that you are sensing the Lord calling you to do, stepping out in faith, walking beyond the borders of where you are comfortable, agreeing to do more than you can possibly do with the resources you have within your control: go for it. That's on my heart to share. I don't know if someone reading this today may be hearing all the reasons <i>not</i> to do something being whispered over the call of Christ to step out, but I want to encourage you to say "yes." Say yes before the money is there, or the house is perfect, or the answers all are worked out. Say yes, because the One who is calling you out is able to meet each need as it arises, and if you have all the resources and all the answers, then are you really even using any faith? I'm learning so much about clinging to nothing but my Lord, and He alone is able. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I have one request of you all. Would you please pray for us? This morning I've been reading in Colossians, and I'd like to make this verse my request. <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"> "And pray for us, too, that God may open a door for our message, so that we may proclaim the mystery of Christ...Pray that I may proclaim it clearly, as I should." Colossians 4:3 & 4 </span></i>Please also pray for Sasha, that his life and his future will be impacted by the message of the Gospel, that we will share with him the love of Christ in ways that meet him right where he is, and that he will know the love of a mom and dad, even though he has had to suffer the loss of his birth mom and dad. Please pray that we will be a blessing to the staff who work with all the kids, both at Sunshine and at any other orphanage or children's center we will be visiting. Please pray we will be led by the Spirit in knowing what to say and how to say it at all times, and that we would be wise and that we would build lasting relationships. Above all, please pray that God will be glorified in every single aspect of our travels and our time. </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iXVVZdOmT48/Tigwk4RwhXI/AAAAAAAAA8I/w7mKpUPbKzs/s1600/DSC_0521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iXVVZdOmT48/Tigwk4RwhXI/AAAAAAAAA8I/w7mKpUPbKzs/s320/DSC_0521.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div><div>Some of you have followed our journey with Sasha since its beginning. There have been so many tears cried over this boy. We have come to love him with the love of Christ and with the love of parents, and we know God's plans for him are so good. I love what Psalm 126 says:<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy... Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy. He who goes out weeping, carrying seeds to sow, will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him." </span> </i>The Lord has brought us to the place where the tears will be tears of joy. We've birthed dreams and we've seen them die. We've handed back to the Lord those things which we believe He has written on our hearts, and He does what only He is able to do. He has written for our lives a story we could not have predicted, and it is good. His faithfulness never fails us. He is the Lord, our God, and we are honored to be able to serve Him. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Thank you for your prayers. God is using you to accomplish His will, and we know we are surrounded by those who love us and who share God's heart for the orphan. We are eager to meet the caregivers we have come to call our friends, who serve the Lord daily in the fields of the fatherless. We look forward to reporting back beautiful stories of redemption amidst the hard places. And we are very excited to spend time in person with our guy, Sasha. "Thank you, Jesus." (Tears.)</div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-59914117390221058752011-07-16T11:00:00.000-04:002011-07-16T11:00:44.456-04:00Psalm 12 - Promise of a Mighty God<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f-9OjtzdUdA/TiGnIGovaWI/AAAAAAAAA74/dixNR3DFhRA/s1600/DSC_0050.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f-9OjtzdUdA/TiGnIGovaWI/AAAAAAAAA74/dixNR3DFhRA/s320/DSC_0050.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
"The LORD replies, 'I have seen<br />
the violence done to the helpless,<br />
and I have heard the groans<br />
of the poor.<br />
<br />
Now I will rise up to rescue them,<br />
as they have longed for me to do.'<br />
<br />
The LORD's promises are pure,<br />
like silver refined in a furnace,<br />
purified seven times over.<br />
<br />
Therefore, LORD, we know you will<br />
protect the oppressed,<br />
preserving them forever from this<br />
lying generation,<br />
<br />
even though the wicked strut about,<br />
and evil is praised throughout<br />
the land."<br />
Psalm 12:5-8Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-45152163626968593702011-06-30T08:28:00.000-04:002011-07-01T08:05:50.863-04:00Why "there" when there's so much need "here"?My grandmother and I are talking about the gifts. We're talking about how she could mention to her girlfriends that if they'd like to buy a small gift for one of the children we'll be visiting at the center in Ukraine, and I'll give her some photos to show them, so they can see the kids. We talk about how it's so important for a child who has lost everything - sometimes more than once - to have a little something that is just <i>theirs</i>.<br />
<div><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8b4OLXYWB_w/TgxZGX_845I/AAAAAAAAA7o/zT4fKcTSeco/s1600/scg+vika.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8b4OLXYWB_w/TgxZGX_845I/AAAAAAAAA7o/zT4fKcTSeco/s1600/scg+vika.jpg" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>She tells me that she has enjoyed the shoebox projects her church does at Christmas, but that a lot of people ask her, "Why do you send things to kids in other countries when their are so many needy kids <i>here</i>?" She doesn't really have an answer, except that she enjoys it. But I can tell she wants an answer, as I think she feels a little anticipation of these questions coming up again. </div><div><br />
</div><div>We talk more. About Jesus and children and gifts. About needs so great. And us, so small.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The question is valid, though, and I think it's important to talk about all these things, when we talk about missions and ministry and giving and orphan care. I hear this question worded in different ways. "Why would they adopt from another country when there are so many children here?" "Why would they adopt a child with severe special needs, when there are healthy children who need a home?" "Why did they want to have a foster child, when they could have adopted a baby, without all that baggage?" "Why would you help kids far away, when there are so many poor children in our own communities?" </div><div><br />
</div><div>I hope I'm not speaking out of turn, but the only thing that continually comes to mind when I hear these questions is that the needs are so great..... so great. Way beyond what any one of us could possibly meet. And the Lord loves each of these little ones so incredibly. And there is truth in each of these questions. There are so many children - little ones, bigger ones - who all have needs that sting my heart. And I'm so thankful that we serve a God who calls each of us to unique areas of service, so that, hopefully, we are all together working as the body of Christ to do what we can to reach this hurting world with the love of Jesus. </div><div><br />
</div><div><i>And I'm encouraged when I step back and see a larger picture of what is happening around me.</i> I have friends who have adopted from foster care and others who've adopted babies of all different colors as infants, and I have friends who've travelled the globe against all earthly odds to bring children home when governments and embassies have been difficult to work with. I have friends who have had adoptions fall apart time and again, but who've continued on in faith that God is in control, even through tremendous grief and broken hearts. And I have friends I have not yet met who give their lives daily to rescuing children from the streets of Eastern Europe and taking care of them. I know a man who set up a house in a whole different country just so that kids there would be safe. And I am getting to know <a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/">friends</a> who've stared down stigmas and fear and lies to bring home children who would have died of AIDS if left in other countries, but who are able to be safe and healthy and live great lives in the U.S. because we have the medicine they need and the families they need. I have a childhood friend who works to <a href="http://www.exoduscry.com/">fight human trafficking</a>. Each of us can do something. God will show us each what that is. <i>And that feels like hope.</i></div><div><br />
</div><div>And all these children are precious. Each of them is of indescribable value to the Lord. And they each do have needs. And as God's people, we have to ask Him how He wants each of us to be working to meet those needs. We are not all called to do the same thing. But I believe we have to be honest enough to ask the Lord His heart for us, and we have to be willing to expose our own hearts to the hard things and the hard places. Sometimes that means going. Sometimes it means staying. Sometimes it means seeing needs and not understanding why they are not met yet. And it means trusting that the God we serve is able to redeem the broken pieces and create beauty from ashes. But I don't believe it's God's will for any child to be an orphan. It's a sad fact of living in a broken world, but it's not ok. And I don't care where the children live, they move my heart. </div><div><br />
</div>I can't really get my head around the magnitude of need in our world...In our own back yards or across the planet. So I start where I can. And there is no value to be placed differently among children based on their geographic location. If you have a heart to serve, the Lord will show you where your life and your love and your time are needed. <br />
<div><br />
</div><div>For us, God has given us a relationship with a boy halfway around the world. And we've been blessed to call him "son," even though he is not with us in person. One thing that is true, no matter where we serve is that relationship and consistency are the keys. Also, I'm learning over and over again that we have to be continually asking the Lord and asking the people who know more than we do, "<i>How we can best help?" </i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pcl5-UgNiYU/S6DpFW5TesI/AAAAAAAAAEY/d274bT_IFVY/s1600/sasha+snowball.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pcl5-UgNiYU/S6DpFW5TesI/AAAAAAAAAEY/d274bT_IFVY/s320/sasha+snowball.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div>We're approaching the Ukraine orphan care work with that attitude of "Show us how, Lord." We are working to have authentic dialogue with people who are currently in the trenches of orphan care in Ukraine, who <i>know</i> where the needs are and who have incredible insight into how we can come alongside and offer support. So please keep praying with us that God will continue to reveal His plans and His will to us as we are working to understand the best way to care for orphans. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Would you like to give a small gift to an orphan in Ukraine? Let me know, and I'll tell you about the kids who still need someone to give to them! And I'll be sure to share photos with you. You can also make a donation through the Donate button at the top of the page, and help through Project HOPEFUL - we're raising money to do some special things for the children while we're there. It's really exciting!</div><div><br />
</div><div>I am praying also for you, that you'll be encouraged in your own life as you see needs and work to meet them in the name of Jesus. If you would like to share about how God's stirring your heart into action and where you are called to serve, I would love to have you leave a comment and tell me about it. It's so encouraging to hear about what each of you is doing! </div><div><br />
</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i>"May the God of all peace, who through the blood of the eternal covenant brought back from the dead our Lord Jesus...equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen." </i></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"><i>Hebrews 13:20-21</i></span></div><div><br />
</div></div>Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-83651306210287430492011-06-28T08:12:00.000-04:002011-06-28T08:12:41.903-04:00"to give you HOPE and a future...."<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is how it all starts for me. I'm watching this clip, shared by a friend on Facebook, and I am ashamed at what I do not know. Every misconception that exists about HIV, I am guilty of assuming true. And it's humbling, this heart for the orphan that has missed out entirely on such a large group of orphans to love, simply out of ignorance. But this family hits my heart at its center, and the truth that requires bravery and releases hope is powerful.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/JFm26jpIr1g?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Over a course of months, I read lots about <a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/">Project HOPEFUL</a>, and I often sit and wipe tears from my face as I scan the faces of children who need a mom and dad... children who need to know the Father who is their Defender and the One who hears their cry. The Father who has promised to them, <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;">"'I know the plans I have for you,' says the LORD, 'plans for good and not for evil, to give you hope and a future.'" Jeremiah 29:11</span>. </i>I think of my Savior, his heart for "the least of these," and it's hard for me to sit in my house in America with my healthy children and my kitchen filled with food and the goodnight stories read in the rocking chair and not wonder, "who could this world possibly consider as less than the orphan living with HIV?" And there are so many we call "least." </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The list of who we consider to be least grows. It includes these little ones living with HIV, who we don't stop to consider, because we are afraid and don't know the hope that exists. And it includes the foster children in our country whose hearts are wounded. It includes little babies in America born with skin too dark for some waiting parents to bring them home. It includes children who have nothing left on this earth but the brothers and sisters they have come to depend on for every sense of safety, but they are too many in number, so we break them up so it is easier on us. And it includes boys like my Sasha, young men with promise and humor and dreams, who age-out of care and yet still are at ages where care and support and structure is needed. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I am thankful for a Lord who shows us how to love "the least of these," and who reminds us that how we treat them is, in fact, how we are treating him. He says,<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"> "And whoever welcomes a little child in my name welcomes me." Matthew 18:5</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">. </span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">After learning a lot about <a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/">Project HOPEFUL</a> and having spent the past year and a half praying about where exactly the Lord would use me to serve in orphan care, I'm very excited to now be the Maine Associate for <a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/">Project HOPEFUL</a>. This week I'll be learning more in a training about the variety of ways I'll be able to serve families in our own state, and I have been blessed with a very unexpected and absolutely amazing opportunity to link our trip to Ukraine to the ministry of <a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/">Project HOPEFUL</a>!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Friday morning, I enjoy a long and wonderful phone call to Traci Heim, who is Project HOPEFUL's Ukraine contact and the FIG Director (Family In the Gap Program, which helps in a variety of ways to link families here with kids in other countries who need support and love and prayer and family). As we chase busy toddlers thoughout our homes (I automatically feel a friend-connection with anyone who understands that it's ok for me to give my 2-year old several popsicles in a row in order to manage a full phone call...), we have a two-hour conversation about Ukraine and the kids there who we love so much. This is a great news clip about her family:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/c5XlOeNi0pU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
Our mission in Ukraine has at its center a boy who is our son according to our hearts. You all know our Sasha. He is part of our family, and his photos are on our wall in our family gallery, all around my computer desk. Our kids consider him family, and I have grieved his absense from our home tremendously over the past year, although I know God's story is not finished. So we are thrilled to see him in only a few weeks! <br />
<br />
As I talk to Traci, she shares a need she sees. She tells me that <a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/">Project HOPEFUL</a> seeks to help older children and sibling groups as well as children living with HIV. We both know that in Ukraine, orphans age-out of orphanages at 16, and most often they are left on their own. She has a vision that <a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/">Project HOPEFUL </a>can come alongside organizations who would care for these kids, offering support and linking families in the States with teens who need to know the love of family and of Christ and to be safe. I tell her about Sunshine, about Sasha having someone to go to his trade school parent nights and about his letters sharing that he is learning to manage his time and money, and I tell her that I am so thankful he is safe and loved and provided for as he transitions to aduldhoood. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qbZVJogC2KQ/S1h3YsuNCLI/AAAAAAAAABg/FjTFUGw4FC4/s1600/Sasha+Demidenko3-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qbZVJogC2KQ/S1h3YsuNCLI/AAAAAAAAABg/FjTFUGw4FC4/s320/Sasha+Demidenko3-1.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>We are now adding a new element to our trip, as we connect our mission with that of <a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/">Project HOPEFUL</a>. Specifically, we are exploring the "how's" of linking up support to kids in Ukraine who need to be safe and loved and guided through learning a trade and being ready to transition to adulthood safely and successfully. I watch as God is weaving together a relationship between our countries based on loving the orphan, and I see that even in what I thought was a closed door, God's faithfulness is opening a door of opportunity to serve Him alongside a team of people scattered across different countries but joined by His heart for "the least of these" and faith in the One who gives "hope and a future."<br />
<br />
We've added a Donate button at the top right of our blog page, which will allow you to donate specifically to this mission in a tax deductible way through <a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/">Project HOPEFUL</a>, should you be led to do so.<br />
<br />
{I'd like to say thank you to <a href="http://www.projecthopeful.org/">Project HOPEFUL</a> for being used to share and expand the vision we have of orphan care in Ukraine! It's been a desire of my heart to see more kids have the blessings of family and safety that Sasha has received, and I'm honored to be part of a team of people seeking to come alongside those in orphan care ministry overseas.}<br />
<br />
{I'd like to also say thank you to <a href="http://www.kathilipp.com/">Kathi Lipp</a> for writing <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Me-Project-Living-Always-Wanted/dp/0736929665?ie=UTF8&tag=widgetsamazon-20&link_code=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969" target="_blank">The Me Project: 21 Days to Living the Life You've Always Wanted</a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=widgetsamazon-20&l=btl&camp=213689&creative=392969&o=1&a=0736929665" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important; padding: 0px !important;" width="1" /> and for your friendship - your words have been an encouragement to me to make steps in the direction of the dreams God has given me.}Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6578567186868775524.post-32421563058049205022011-06-22T00:21:00.000-04:002011-06-22T06:49:07.490-04:00Of the "yes" and the greatest bookstore ever"Yes." That's where it all starts. At the yes. And faith doesn't swell up in the unknowing, before-hand moments. It is the answer we give without knowing how or when or sometimes even exactly what. But we always know why... Because He has asked this of us.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vF1HLtRtOo8/TgFjlYBrsyI/AAAAAAAAA7k/qMND19xisD0/s1600/DSC_0026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vF1HLtRtOo8/TgFjlYBrsyI/AAAAAAAAA7k/qMND19xisD0/s320/DSC_0026.JPG" width="320" /></a>A "yes" in the midst of <i>not enough</i> and <i>no clue how</i> and <i>not at all qualified</i> is the offering. It's the giving up dependence on ourselves. Giving up the comfort zone. The cost of obedience to a God who has all the resources of the universe at His disposal is the willingness to let go of that small bit of what we presume is under our control. Although it never really has been. Not really. <br />
<br />
And we embrace the unknown future with a sense of eagerness and wonder, knowing the story we are living has an Author whose plans for us are good. We know that any story He writes for us is one worth living. And worth living with abandon.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"><i>"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Hebrews 11:1</i></span><br />
<br />
The way I write a story is to map it out... to know the way the pieces fall into place before it's all been written down and fleshed out. But that's not the way to <i>live</i> a good story. <br />
<br />
The real secret is in the yes. The yes, no matter what. The yes, period. When God asks us to do something too big for us, too expensive for us, to hard for us, it is because that is when we finally get out of the way and trust in Him alone. He orchestrates the details. He puts people in our lives to become part of the story. And it all starts with saying yes. It's a leaping without needing to look, trusting that what springs up from obedience to the Lord will be a beautiful harvest. <br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #674ea7;"><i>"And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him." Hebrews 11:6</i></span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QTwvUHSypKc/TgFjNb7VZ0I/AAAAAAAAA7g/J4uvpR1NKow/s1600/DSC_0019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QTwvUHSypKc/TgFjNb7VZ0I/AAAAAAAAA7g/J4uvpR1NKow/s320/DSC_0019.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Over and over, I am so blessed by the help we are receiving from people who are eager to help us get to Ukraine this summer. I struggled at first with the asking for help. It's not what I'm comfortable doing. And that's just pride. It's not good, and it's something God's stripping away, layer by layer. It's been so incredible to ask for help and to see people catch the vision for helping these kids we've come to love. And in sharing, more people have come to love these kids as well.<br />
<br />
Today, I was at <a href="http://www.borders.com/">Borders</a> (the Bangor store is THE best!) having my favorite latte, and I was so encouraged and excited to hear that they're collecting bags of flavored coffee for us to take to the caregivers in Ukraine! What a treat for them! This outreach has become something bigger than just ours alone. It's something our community and friends and family are joining with us in making possible, and all the fruit that is a result of the time we spend there belongs to all of you as well.Shannon http://www.blogger.com/profile/07672755572004726589noreply@blogger.com1