Letter to My Mother on Her Birthday

Dear Mom,
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.

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.

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.

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.

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.)

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.

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.

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.

Happy birthday to a mom I can never repay.
I love you to Jesus!

Shannon

Finding Your Value

My 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.

But for the most part, nothing came.

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.

I've felt a little inadequate sometimes, to tell the truth.

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.  

I wondered how many times he'd climbed that hill and looked at that house.

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.)

We ate fresh sunflower seeds, plucked from the gigantic center of a flower he pulled out of a seemingly endless field of yellow.

It's these moments that have sort of tripped me up this year.

But they weren't all heavy.

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.

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.

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...)

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.

I already have something to do.

I already have a ministry.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!)

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?

Being Led

Tiny footprints.  Marks made by little feet.  A carefree day at the ocean.  Sea shells.  Salty air.  Sun shining down on our shoulders.  Little girl, filled with wonder.  Every part of her day, glorious.  No fear.  No worry.  Right now.  Just this moment.  Laughing.  Exploring.  Experiencing.  Trusting.

Sometimes I learn a lot about life from my children.

I want my life to look like this.  My trust to look like this.

Even when rain beats down.  Even when lightning rips through the sky.  Even when the snow is blown so fiercly by icy winds that I can't see a foot in front of me.

I want to be led.

I want to see where this God whose voice shakes mountains and quiets souls is taking me.  Sometimes He asks me to stand still.  Sometimes He shows me where to put my next step.  He leads me through hard places, and He brings me out the other side, refined by the heat but unscorched by the flame.  He births dreams in my soul, and He asks me to trust Him enough to hand them back.  Then with my stronger, braver, battle-worn, more faith-filled heart, He brings me into places that are so incredibly rich in His glory.

My prayers used to be so specific.  I thought I knew exactly what to ask the Lord to do in my life.  And the longer I spend in the warmth of His presence, the more I know that the only safe thing to ask is for His will to be done.  I ask to be led.  I ask to have my heart changed to be more like His.  I ask for the stripping away of the things that are holding me back from basking in His perfect peace.  I learn to stand still when I want to be moving.  And to step forward when I don't know exactly where I'm going.

"Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, 'This is the way; walk in it.'" Isaiah 30:21 


My prayer for you today is that you will hear God's voice clearly leading you in each step.  That you will be fearless and trusting and filled with joy.  That God's dreams for you will change your heart in ways you never imagined and wouldn't want to live without.  I'm praying for you to weather the storms with grace and to soak up the glorious warmth of the Lord's presence where you are today.  

Holding on Loosely

At times, I find my fingers tightly gripping a dream.  The appearance of it is beautiful to me.  It's what I pray for and wait for.

But God wants me to hold on loosely.  The way a dream takes shape is by the forming of His hands, if it is a dream worth having.

I learned this because of a orphan I love.  A boy in Ukraine who is part of my heart's family.  In my dream, we adopt him, and he spends weekends fishing with my husband.  In my dream, he shares the room on the third floor with Eli, and they wrestle with our bulldog together, laughing as brothers.  In my dream, he sits in the chair that has been empty at the dinner table each evening, and on school mornings, I only drink half of my coffee before rushing one more child out to the car on the way to school.

We pursue this dream.  We see in God's Word that He is "A father to the fatherless...God sets the lonely in families."  Psalm 68:5 & 6
That must mean it's God's will for him to be adopted, right?

God is faithful, both in the opening and closing of doors.  God's dream for Sasha is different than mine.  In my loosely holding onto a dream, God has taught me so much about His perfect way of shaping our lives and our hearts.  He has taught me so much about how little I understand and how unequipped I am to be the dream-designer in my life.  Certainly there are dreams I have, because God has planted them in my heart.  But as they grow from seeds, the way they spring to life and blossom is by His design.

God has shown me that He has set Sasha in a family.  He is part of our family by love.  We work hard to love on him and encourage him through letters and by a commitment to meet any needs we know he has.  We remind him the Lord loves him and has good plans for him.  We have promised to remain in his life as long as he'd like us to be there.  God has also set him in a family in Ukraine, at Sunshine, where he has lived for several years now.   Sasha is standing next to the man who has been his foster father in this ski picture.  I loved receiving this, because I am so thankful that he is being loved and cared for within the context of a family and a home.


And God is so good.  He is refining my dreams and stretching my faith all the time.  But even as this is happening, He surprises me with beautiful gifts.  In August, Selden and I will be going to Sunshine to spend time with Sasha and the other kids there.  Some of you sent them gifts this Christmas, as part of the Sunshine Christmas project we did on Facebook!  (See their happy faces, with all the gifts!!!)  We are taking gifts to the children when we go, so if you would like to send something to a specific child (you can meet them all on Sunshine Christmas on Facebook or I can send you pictures) or something for the Center, please let me know.   Please also pray for us to raise the finances for the trip (and if you'd like to make a donation, we humbly welcome that - you can "comment" to ask more info).  We are so excited to go on this mission and meet the children whose names and faces we now know.  They all are so precious!

Even though I've learned to cradle my dreams in open hands, knowing that they are only mine if God says they are and how He says they are, sometimes I know He must be smiling as He hands back to me bits of what I have desperately longed for.

The vision my heart has had for over a year now is one of Sasha and Selden, standing at the water's edge, fishing poles in hand.  (They both love fishing more than anything.)  I've said goodbye to this dream over and over.  Each time I package up things I bought for Sasha to have here and go to the post office, I let some of my dream go.  When I lost my pink fishing pole, and we unwrapped the one we bought for Sasha, because he isn't coming here to use it, I let my dream change shape.  So, I'm really excited to tell you that one of the things we'll be doing on our missions trip is fishing!  I'll take a few pictures of this, because how many times do you get a chance to stand back and look at a dream spring to life?

God wants us to be willing to hand back each of our dreams to Him.  He desires our trust.  He is worthy of our trust.  God is not a dream-taker.  When things turn out differently than we hoped, it is because we can only see things from our limited perspective.  God wants me to chase Him and His will instead of a dream.  When I open my hands and release everything in my heart back to the Lord, He is so faithful to repackage and give back to me the dreams He has created for me in exactly the way He knows is best.

"Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart."  Psalm 37:4

Seasons of the Dream

This morning, drinking my third cup of coffee and looking out the window at the dirty snowbanks piled high, I feel my thoughts shifting.  Instead of only seeing the gray of winter, I am thinking of what is yet to come.  Thoughts of spring feel good.  Beneath the frozen ground, there is life.  In exactly the right places, there are peonies, irises, roses, astilbe....  I just have to wait until the seasons change, and the beautiful things planted in the soil will push their way up into the daylight.  We will enjoy the fragrance and the beauty of what is now still hidden.

Our lives are filled with seasons, too.  In each of these seasons, the Lord is doing something very specific and very valuable.  We can't shortcut the development that is happening in the winter, while the seeds planted at an earlier time are preparing to burst open.  We can't rush the growth of springtime, just because we want to see the flowers in their full, glorious bloom of summer.  We can't hang on for long to the splendor of the autumn, with its fiery colors and cool evenings.  

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven...  He has made everything beautiful in its time."  Ecclesiastes 3:1 & 11

Right now, my heart is ready for spring.  I've been really enjoying the process of reading Kathi Lipp's The Me Project: 21 Days to Living the Life You've Always Wanted.  I'm being more deliberate about infusing my life with the creativity that has been rekindled.  I am reminded that it glorifies God when I'm using the gifts and talents He's given me.  I'm focusing with more intention on what the Lord has planted for dreams in my heart, I'm feeling the growing anticipation of springtime in my own life.   

What are the dreams beneath the surface of your life right now?  Have you stopped to consider them?  Are you at the early stages of chasing after them?  Are you seeing the fruits of hard work you've done investing in the things God has created you to do?  What season of life are your dreams in today?  Be encouraged that God Himself is a Creator, and He has designed you as His workmanship and in His image.  The things you love to do bring you joy for a reason.  Cultivate your dreams.  Let your gifts burst forth and bloom in your life as a beautiful testimony of His faithfulness!

"Do not despise these small beginnings, for the Lord rejoices to see the work begin!"  Zechariah 4:10