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?

Teens on a Mission: Philadelphia

Hey 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!

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!)

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.

Before heading out each morning, they gather to read the Bible and have some prayer.  Today, their reading is from Matthew9: 35-38 "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.'" 

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.  

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!

Breath of Grace

Somewhere 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.

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.

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?

"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

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.

I don't deserve You, and You give Yourself to me still.

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.

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.

Thank you for helping me breathe in the fullness of Your grace.

"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

Substance of Things Hoped For

We'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.

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.

But I need to try.

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.

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.  

And I recall that "Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen." (Hebrews 11:1) 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...

Psalm 12 - Promise of a Mighty God

"The LORD replies, 'I have seen
 the violence done to the helpless,
and I have heard the groans
of the poor.

Now I will rise up to rescue them,
as they have longed for me to do.'

The LORD's promises are pure,
like silver refined in a furnace,
purified seven times over.

Therefore, LORD, we know you will
protect the oppressed,
preserving them forever from this
lying generation,

even though the wicked strut about,
and evil is praised throughout
the land."
Psalm 12:5-8

(in)spired to Encourage

 This week I helped my daughter say her first big goodbye to a good friend who'd become more like a sister than anything.  Her family lived at the end of our street, and they moved yesterday.  Her friend's mom has become a good friend of mine, and over the course of the girls' friendship, she's welcomed my whole family into her home for dinners and parties and impromptu back yard gatherings. Our husbands have become friends. She has shown up in my driveway at 7:30 in the morning every school morning for months to take my oldest to school, so my toddler can sleep in. Friends like this don't come along every day.  She knows how to encourage.

I've been given the opportunity to review a product for Dayspring, and I'm so excited to know their theme during the month of June is encouragement.  As a woman, my sister-friends who fill up all the little spaces in my heart with their encouragement and laughter are a gift to me every day.  I'm really looking forward to sharing my Sassy & Sophisticated cards.  Some of the words make me laugh out loud while some are so tender.

My friends are amazing.  They are real.  They let me into their lives, and I know I can let them into mine - into my three-kids-tearing-around the house evenings, my yes-it's-almost-lunch-and-I'm-still-in-my-jammies door answering mornings, my I'll-step-out-of-the-minivan-so-I-can-hear-you-over-the-Veggie Tales DVD-and-kids-talking chats on the cell phone mid-afternoon.  The real places.  The places where our lives intersect.  The shopping trips with toddlers in tow, wondering what Stacy and Clinton would say about the "trousers." The whispered prayer requests from broken hearts letting go of adoption dreams again and again.  The steady encouragement to keep praying about whatever it is in life we're discussing.  The Word shared over coffee and the noise of preschoolers tearing the house apart, but we don't care because we love our mama-time.  The laughing till we think we're going to pee our pants.  It's all that real stuff. It's the core of friendship, and it's like a breath for our souls as women.

So this month, I'm going to be intentional about showing some friends my appreciation for them.  Thank you, Dayspring, for all the many ways you give us ways to celebrate our friendships and our faith!

"A sweet friendship refreshes the soul." Proverbs 27:9

(The opinions expressed are my own, and I have not received payment for the product review.)

How to Live a Story Worth Telling

I love a good story.  Words and art inspire me.  I want to take what is powerful about a good story or an amazing work or art and live out those elements in my life. What if we decide to live our lives as art?  What if we decide to live a great story?  How would that look?  Today, let's look at story.  What does it take to live a really, really good one?

Embrace opposition. Every great story is ultimately a battle to overcome something, right?  I love that sense of conflict in a story, but I try so hard to avoid obstacles in life.  What if instead of stepping away from those things that seem too hard, I step up or I stand firm?

Let go of control.  Much of my life, I've only been willing to be part of a story with an ending I can predict and of which I approve.  I have needed to see the whole outline before jumping into the first chapter.  The more I practice intentionally remaining in situations where I don't know the final outcome, my trust in God grows, and the excitement of my story increases.

Be willing to look stupid.  When I was little I wanted to try lots of things.  But I didn't.  Because I thought I would look stupid.  As an adult, I'm choosing to let the risk of failure or looking foolish to others take a backseat to the risk of missing out on something really amazing happening in my life.  I'm sure sometimes I'll look stupid.  But looking cool is highly overrated, right?

Choose to risk.  God asks me to trust Him.  He often asks me to be willing to give more than I feel comfortable with.  Sometimes it's the willingness He wants to see, and sometimes it's the giving.  He asks me to go places and do things that are exciting and uncertain and amazing.  If my story is going to be worth telling, I have to be willing to risk everything and believe that the Author of my life is working out a better plot line than I could ever have written.

I'd love to know what you think about living a good story!  What are the things you think make a life story worth telling? 

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;  in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight."  Proverbs 3:5

For more thoughts on life as story, check out A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life by Donald Miller.

This is for Us

How do I write about the cross?  How do I write about a God whose love for us is so personal, so intimate, that He would come to this dusty earth and walk among us?  And not only to come to earth but to come disguised as someone so ordinary.... a builder, a worker, a man without wealth or acclaim.  Jesus, seeking out relationships, spending time connecting intentionally with people who need him, with people who didn't seem important to anyone else.  Him,  God Almighty, in human skin, serving flawed, needy, hurting people...

How can the God of heaven and earth, Creator of the universe, One with no beginning and no end possibly be willing to leave the splendor of heaven to walk unnoticed for years on this hurting, broken planet?

It's because He desires a relationship with us.  This always blows my mind.

Our sin, our shortcomings, our flaws - all of this makes it impossible for us to stand in His presence.  This God Almighty chose to wash us in His own blood - the blood of Jesus, God as man, His Son.  Every single bit of flesh torn from the body of Jesus on the day He was crucified should have been my flesh.  Every time the whip landed on His back, it should have been me.  Every bit of shame and indignity and torture my Lord Jesus endured was rightfully mine.  And because He longs to be in relationship with me, He chose to die for me.  And you.

This blood shed, this sacrifice offered up to God the day the sky split and the darkness covered earth, this is for us.  This is our gift of love from God's own heart, so we can call Him Father.  So we can let go of shame we've earned the weight of carrying, and instead we can carry hearts filled with peace and love and grace.  So we can have eternal life.  Because God desperately wants us to spend eternity in His presence.  Because He treasures us... us with all our faults and weakness and fears... us with all the questions and pride and years we've spent living life as though there is no God at all... us, made in the image of God, formed in the womb by His great design, knit together by Him and set apart by Him and able to do all things through Him.

Us, whose names are engraved on His hands.

This cross.  This Savior's side pierced, spilling blood and water.  This conquering of the grave.  This freedom from the grip of sin.  This unearned gift of grace and forgiveness and relationship.  This washing white as snow.  This eternal life in heaven and abundant life on earth.

This is for us.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whosoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."  John 3:16

How God Answers Prayers

For the past year, I've been asking God to stretch me.  To help me step outside my cozy comfort zone.  To strip away the stuff of "me" and make me a reflection of Him alone.  To build my faith.  To help me leap boldly into the unknown.  To show me the hard places, the Jesus-going places, where His light is needed.  To build a fiercely trusting heart in me.

God answers prayers like these.

He doesn't answer like "I Dream of Jeannie," with a little blink and an instant transformation of my heart into some super-trusting, joy-in-trials mastering, Christian super-hero kind of woman.  

The answer is in the process.  

He allows me to be uncomfortable, and inch by inch, I walk farther from my comfort zone, and I feel the fears that held me there rise up and then slowly slip away.   

He allows me to be in circumstances out of my control, so I have only two options: panic or trust.  Looking at my own strength or clinging to Christ.  As I look behind me, I see that my first response is more calm and trusting now than in seasons past, and I know I'm growing.  

He asks me to walk through places that try my faith, because only through the testing of my faith does it grow.  Only by His Word watering my spirit and His presense in the valleys do I become strong.  

He asks me to leap, and I have a choice: "yes, if" or "yes, period." I used to be a girl with lots of contingencies for God.  My "yes" had terms attached.  Now I'm saying, "Yes, Lord.  Period."  And just leaping.  (God has me mid-air in some places right now.  I'll let you know more about where I land when I get there.  But I know it's going to be good.)

He is opening my eyes to needs around me and burdening my heart with the desire to live a life spent fully and well.  And my definition of a life well spent has been totally and thoroughly turned upside down by Jesus.  I cannot chase a dream of comfort and ease ever again.  I cannot aspire to own a bunch of stuff that impresses me more than I desire to give in a bunch of ways that impress Jesus ever again.  I know God blesses us with wonderful gifts, and he loves for us to enjoy the blessings he pours out on our lives, but my blessings are also tools for blessing others and  for living a life of offering thanks to the One who gives good things.  

So I am thankful to the Lord for answering my prayers.  For being the One who knows precisely how to giftwrap seasons of growth as beautifully and lovingly as He does seasons of ease.  And when I think of the blessings received in my spirit within times of stretching and faith-testing, I start to see it all as a gift to me anyway.  

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, becasue you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."  James 1:2-4

Driving Lessons from My Parents

Driving down Route 9, my learner's permit nestled proudly in my wallet, my dad in the passenger seat, I am riding the brakes, tentative, looking for the spot where I know the speed limit changes from 40 to 25mph. My dad opens the passenger door.  Just a little.  And he sticks his foot out.

"What are you DOING?"  I ask him.

"I'm just going to get out and walk," he replies, chuckling, "I'll wait for you when I get where we're going."  I shriek, "DAD!"  We laugh.  He knows we're going somewhere, and he's eager to keep moving.  He wants me to get to my destination.

Another day, driving past my high school with my mom, we approach the familiar railroad tracks.  She turns off the radio and starts rolling down the window.  She tells me that I need to come to a stop at the tracks, and I need to listen for a train, in case there's one coming, and I happen not to see it.  I oblige.  "You must be kidding."  But she isn't.  She knows I'm her only baby, and the thought of the flashing railroad lights being out of order and the chance that I might not see a train chugging down the tracks laid in the wide open field inspires her to come up with safety rules the Driver's Ed program clearly must have overlooked.  She wants me to be safe.

I laugh, thinking of my parents teaching me to drive.  I still talk to them about how to get where I'm going.

I talk to my mother about challenges and obstacles in the road.  How I want to avoid them.  My mom tells me that God is just as concerned with what I'm going through on the way to where I'm going as He is in getting me to a certain place.  She tells me that He uses the journey to prepare me for the destinations He has planned.  It's the bumps in the road that God uses to refine my character and to equip me.

My dad and I talk about dreams.  Things I'd love to pursue that are new and different.  He tells me to get on the road and start driving.  My dad says, "You can always make mid-course changes in direction.  But not if you're sitting in your car in the driveway."  He's still encouraging me to keep moving.  He believes I am on my way toward good things, even as I am enjoying good things now.

It feels like my own kids are fast approaching driving age.  It scares me to death, to be honest.  I want them to be safe.  I want to teach them the important things.  I want to help them dare to move boldly in the direction of their God-given dreams and gifts.  I vowed 17 years ago never to make my own children listen for trains, but I might just once.  For old time's sake.

"I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth.  These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them."  Isaiah 42:16


"The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you or forsake you. Do not be afraid, do not be discouraged."  Deuteronomy 31:8


Some of you are moving through rough patches of road.  Some of you are feeling a little apprehensive about getting out of the driveway and moving toward a new goal.  I'm praying for you today to be filled with the confidence that if God's in the driver's seat, you can keep moving boldly forward.  If you need to make a change in direction, the Lord will show you when and how.  

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

If Only I Loved Swimming: Thoughts from the Edge of the Diving Board

When I was a little girl, I loved to swim.  Up to the edge of the diving board I would walk, letting my toes linger briefly at the edge.  My mom taught me how to stretch my arms up high and bend toward the water, so I could slice right through the surface. Eventually I became more comfortable at the end of the board, and I wanted to feel the movement of the board under my little body.  I wanted to dive "big." Standing there, arms locked tight beside my ears, fingers pointed, I loved to spring off the board and try to swim the whole length of the pool before coming up for air.

At the ocean, my dad and I would wade slowly out into the icy Atlantic surf at Acadia.  Sometimes we'd stand still, feeling the sand rushing out from beneath our feet each time the waves pulled away from the shore.  My dad and I would swim together in that water, only coming out when we couldn't even feel our skin anymore for the cold.

Now I'm a grown-up, and I don't love swimming.  Now, I prefer to sit in a beach chair with a good book, watching the kids play in the water.  I don't think being flung from the end of a diving board into a bunch of chlorinated pool water sounds like fun (or like a good idea for preserving my hair color).  Freezing half to death in the ocean, where I might be unfortunate enough to run into a jelly fish - and I'll definitely be unfortunate enough to have bits of sand sticking to me for days - is not my idea of a good time.

And that's ok.  As long as we're talking about swimming.

But what about my faith?  I want to be someone who gets to the edge and jumps.  I want my jumping to be fearless and for there to be no lingering at the edge of my comfort zone.  When the sway of uncertainty is under my feet and growing with each step, I don't want to hesitate before stretching my arms up heavenward and diving in.

What I notice about myself is that it's not the jumping part that I'm afraid of.  It's the landing.  Specifically it's the not-knowing-where-I'm-landing part.  A lot of times, I know what God's asking me to do, but I really struggle when I don't know the "how" part of His plan.  God's reminding me daily that He is telling me the "what," but I won't know the "how" until I leave the diving board.

Where is the line of trust drawn?  Do I have a place I'll follow Jesus up to, but to go beyond that is too far? Will I only stand up to my ankles at the edge of the expanse of what God's preparing for my life, or will I rush in, even when the sand is slipping from beneath my feet and the water's really cold?

I'm asking God to fill me with the kind of faith that never pauses before leaping.  I really want it to be something that happens without the requirement of leaping first, but that isn't how faith works.  So I'm standing at the edge, and sometimes I close my eyes, because I don't dare to look.  I just have to jump.

Once in a while, my dive is graceful and sure.  Other times, I jump reluctantly, as though I'm unsure if there's even water in the pool.  There are even moments I know I've sat in my chair when I should have been swimming.  I wonder what I've missed.

God is calling us to get in the water.  What if we all held on loosely to what we have, to where we are comfortable, to our financial security, to our agendas?  I've heard the phrase "give until it hurts" several times recently, and I don't know if I've ever done that.  I've thought of the rich man in Mark 10 who was told by Jesus, "Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven."  He walked away, because he only wanted Jesus as long as it didn't cost him too much.


Today, I'm praying that all of us will be taking more steps in faith and fewer in fear and that we will be people who show our love by our obedience, whatever the cost.  I'm asking God to keep giving me reasons to get back on that diving board, so I can eventually be good at diving headfirst, fearlessly and "big" into His will and even try swimming for a while before coming up for air.

"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." 2 Corinthians 4:18

"We live by faith and not by sight." 2 Corinthians 5:7

"For Christ's love compels us... And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again." 2 Corinthians 5:14a & 15

If you want to move more fearlessly into the adventure God's designed you to live, and you want to be inspired to stretch your faith, read this book!

Worth Repeating: A Talk With My Dad

(This is a post from a year ago when we were seeing closed doors in our adoption process, but it is something worth sharing again. Maybe it will speak to you where you are today...)

Last night I had such a great conversation with my dad. We've always been a pair who can talk forever, and yesterday was one of those long, precious conversations. I'm blessed that I have a father on this earth who speaks wisdom to me (and wisdom spoken in an Irish accent just sounds that much cooler!). We were talking, among other things, about doors. Specifically about doors being open or doors being closed. In life as well as in adoption, we are constantly moving through these doorways, constantly moving through some process or other.

My dad said something to me that I think is so right on, and I want to share it. He said, "There is as much blessing in a door being closed as in a door being open. God is 'He who closes and no man can open and opens and no man can close.' We often like to think that the blessing is the open door, but it's important to see the gift of the door that is closed."

He also said that our lives are about the process. He has a saying, "It's not what's happening to you but what's happening in you in response to what's happening to you that matters." That God is going to make sure we "go through to get through." That we can't short-cut what the Lord is teaching us and doing in us in the "process" of whatever it is that is going on in our lives. That is so relevant to what God's been teaching me lately, which is to wait patiently on Him. 

One final thing that my dad said was really the same thing that a girlfriend said to me the other day, about God being too big to begin to understand. My friend told me that she often sits in awe of the Lord, not fully understanding Him - and she said that it always occurs to her that if she could understand God, He wouldn't be her God. She embraces in Him what so many won't - He is beyond all things, bigger than our ability to understand, with ways higher than ours and thoughts we cannot begin to fathom, worthy of our praise and trust and obedience. My dad said that same thing, too. He was reflecting on the fact that God's ways are not like ours and His thoughts are not like ours, so if we limit our lives to doing only things that we can understand completely, or that make sense in our minds, we can be relatively certain that we are missing out on some of the things God has for us. It's something to really think about.

Also, today I'm thankful! Thankful for my marriage and that I have so many friends with great husbands who are also amazing leaders, and I want to say to my friends who love to brag on their men, "Thank you, and keep it up!" It blesses me to hear you bragging! So many women show so much disrespect in how they speak to friends about their husbands, and it's a shame. God puts systems in place within life and within marriage to be blessings. One of the things I'm most blessed by is the wisdom of my husband.  I am so heart-led sometimes, and my husband is the most wise and precious and strong leader in our family. He hears my heart, and he loves my heart, and he still follows the wisdom God gives him as my leader, and I respect Selden so much for how flawlessly he leads in our home. I can trust him at all times, with all decisions. He makes me feel so safe that way, and I thank God for that protection He's given our family through my husband. He's so much more patient than I am, and he doesn't worry or waver. He's so awesome!

The other thing that is on my heart today is from my reading in Romans this morning. There are so many of us who are waiting on the Lord to move mountains, to deliver long-awaited promises, to provide for needs that seem overwhelming to our human mind. I was reminded today that our God is the God who does the impossible. He promises, and He also provides. His plan in fulfilling His promises can sometimes stretch out for what feels like a long time in our perspective. Like Abraham and Sarah. He was "about a hundred years old" and his wife's "womb was also dead." "Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised." (Romans 4:20 and 21)

Our God is not constrained to the limits that are imposed upon us as humans. His resources are limitless.  His knowledge and wisdom are unsearchable. His love for us is beyond our comprehension. And the obstacles that we see do not exist as obstacles for Him. He is "the God who gives life to the dead and calls things that are not as though they were." (Romans 4:17)

Today, as I'm re-posting this, I am praying that each of you reading this will be encouraged in your day, that you will see both the opening and closing of doors as a gift from a God who knows how to give good things to His children, that you would cling to the promises of God for your life, and stand firm in the faith that "He who promised is faithful."  I know some of you are going through times of waiting, times of trials, times of not quite understanding the HOW of the promise God has spoken to you.  Be encouraged.  Hang on to the promise.  

Feel the Burn

One of my best friends loves a good workout.  I don't really like any workout, good or otherwise (to be totally honest).  My friend loves nothing more than to work out until it hurts, to feel the burn.  She wants to come away from her workout session knowing she's pushed her body to the point where her muscles have been broken down from the exercise and will need to rebuild and repair and then will be stronger.

Not being one prone to the enjoyment of exercise, I am faced with the striking parallel that my spiritual life is something where I am no more a lover of the workout process.  Fortunately, I value the growth, so I endure the growing process.  And as I've sometimes struggled against the ways God has asked me to grow, over the past year in particular, I realize that I'm becoming more comfortable with the way it feels.

Just as my friend's body responds to the exercise by increasing the strength in her muscles and burning  away pesky fat cells her body doesn't need, leaving her leaner and stronger and more energized, my spirit grows and changes in response to how I handle the weight of my cares and my relationship with the Lord.  I'm learning to like the burn.  I'm beginning to enjoy the anticipation of increased strength I'm developing as the nonproductive parts of who I am are being broken down and stripped away.

"Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him."  Psalm 37:7


What strikes me as so ironic, however,  is how often the hardest thing I'm asked to do in order to become strong and fit spiritually is to sit back, rest in the Lord, stand still in His presence and wait.  It feels so much better to me when I can "do" something.  Last year, the Lord provided me with many opportunites to practice stillness, and a very interesting thing happened.  I finally gave in.  I could feel my willfulness and my determination finally surrender.  In my stillness and my obedience, God trimmed away some of the excess, useless stuff in my heart and in my life, and He built up my trust in Him, strengthened my spirit and my faith, and He made me stronger.... in Him.

We have had two adoptive home studies done in the past few years.  The first was for a baby, and when we were called about twins to adopt, the Lord clearly showed us that this was not His will for us.  He closed the door.  That was a February afternoon.  I cried into my hands, with sobs that came from a place so deep that I wondered if my heart would survive the sadness.  But we knew it was the right thing to do, so we moved forward, trusting the Lord.  A couple weeks later, I was pregnant with Sage!  God knew His plans for us.

Right now, we have a completed, current home study once again.  I'm not really sure why, to be honest.  I mean, I know we did it because we were pursuing adopting an older child last year, and the Lord led us to do the homestudy and provided the money for it, so we did it.  And the Lord brought us into a relationship with the child we'd hoped to adopt, which has been a huge gift to our lives.  But the door for his adoption closed.  For a number of reasons.  And we know with conviction that had it been God's will for this boy to be here, he would be, and we also know that there are other ways the Lord will use us as a "family" to him.  So we have committed to be a long-distance family to him, sending him things, staying in touch, praying for him, sharing the love of Christ with him.  We know God has not abandoned him and that he has a big future in the making, because God's plans for him are good, even when they are different than my own.

I've cried about this, too, but the tears are not the same.  This time they are quiet, and as they fill my eyes, I know that while my feelings are ok, I am not fighting against what God's doing in my life.  I am willing to unclench my fingers from their tight grip on my dreams in order to hand them to my Dreamgiver, because my life needs to be shaped by His purposes instead of my own.  The dreams from Him, He will package beautifully and hand back to me when the time is right.

But I keep finding myself pushing the Lord for an answer.  I'm trying to understand the "why" of it all.  I keep thinking there must be some culmination of these experiences, some reason why my heart is completely broken for the cause of the orphan, why we have a second homestudy and no adoption process going on now or even in the foreseeable future, why we'd be led to spend money on something that God didn't intend to use ultimately for an adoption.  I like things to make sense.  I ask God to explain.

And He does something very precious in response.  He quiets my soul.  He reminds me of how good it feels to stop pressing for answers, to stop trying to understand how or why an Almighty God does the things He does in the way He does them.  His voice in my spirit is soothing.  I feel myself relax into the trusting and the stillness and the surrender.  And I am ok with realizing that I am not owed an answer to my questions.  Sometimes God brings me to a place where I can look back and see the way certain pieces fit together.  But my faith is based on knowing that He is fitting the pieces together even when I can't see how.

What it all really comes down to is relationship.  I've come to know God more intimately as I've gone through situations outside of my control.  I've been at the end of my rope, so to speak, a number of times and in a variety of ways.  And He's told me to stop hanging on so tightly to that rope - that it's Him I need to cling to.  There are days my clinging to Him feels easy and comfortable, like my toddler with her arms slung around my neck.  But there are also days where I'm clinging desperately.  The only difference between those days is me.  God is always there.  Always the same.  Steady.  Unchanging.

God also reminds me of something else very important.  He has given me a husband who is an amazing leader.  I can rest in the peace and safety of knowing that my husband leads our family with grace and wisdom and with a relentless strength.  When my heart gets the better of me (as it tends sometimes to do), it's ok, because Selden leads from a much more capable place than emotion.  When I don't understand why God's doing or not doing something, I can let it go, because I know the Lord's leading Selden.  I thank God multiple times a day for the blessing of my husband's leadership.  He is my hero.  I will follow that man anywhere.  I trust him, and that trust lets me live in a freedom that having to understand or control things could never afford me.  The genius of God designed marriage to work that way, and I benefit from it so much.

I'm now thankful for the times I can feel the growing happen.  I know the temporary discomfort is producing good things in me.   Just like my friend and her workouts at the gym.  My faith muscles are strengthened when I am powerless and decide to rely on the only true source of strength.  It gets easier each time the challenges come.  My endurance is greater, because I realize I'm not able to endure on my own, so I rest in the Lord.  The resistance I have to work against produces results.  So I'm learning to embrace "feeling the burn."  

"...but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint."  Isaiah 40:31

Spiritual Growth, Karate Kid Style

I confess:  as a kid, I was a huge Karate Kid fan.  It's true.  I can still hear Bananarama now...

One thing that always bugged me about the movie was how long it seemed to take Mr. Miagi to teach Daniel just what the heck he was supposed to be doing.  It just didn't seem to make any sense.  I was so frustrated every time I had to watch the whole confusing "wax on, wax off," "paint the fence," "sand the floor" sequence.  I just wanted to get to the part where Daniel was kicking some Cobra butt!

For the past year, I've been noticing that God's been walking me through some rather tedious growing experiences.  I journal about my prayers and what I see the Lord doing in my life - the places I'm struggling to understand Him, the things I find myself fighting about with Him, the stubbornness I notice cropping up in myself.  And the faithfulness He shows in response.

Many times this past year, God has asked me to wait.  For all sorts of things.  For all kinds of reasons I don't really know.

Wax on...

Somtimes, God has allowed me to see an open door and has led me to walk toward it.  He has allowed me to invest my heart in dreams He's planted in my soul.  And some of those dreams have been met with what appears, from my limited perspective, to be a resounding slamming of doors.  

Wax off....

God has asked me to trust Him, even when it means being willing to close my eyes and jump out over the edge of my tiny little comfort zone.  Sometimes I have landed in the middle of a place more incredible than I could have imagined (like seeing the fulfillment of my dream of being a "housewife").  And other times, He's let me risk disappointment and put my heart on the line for something that has not turned out as planned, asking me to remember that He is the Lord of my life, and He causes all things to work together for my good. 

He's also asked me to let go of my grip on my dreams and be willing to open my hands to Him.  He's taught me that what I, in my human perspective, may have considered the end of a dream may very well be the redefining of a dream by the Lord, so it reflects HIS heart more than mine.  So I have to trust Him more.  So He will be more glorified in my life.   Because He is interested in accomplishing more things at once than I can really even imagine.  

I'm stepping back, at the beginning of a new year, and I'm looking at how the Lord has been refining my faith and my relationship with him.  I'm seeing some of the pieces fit together.  There is more of a connection.  I know He is preparing me still for work that is yet to be done, yet to be dreamed or understood.   He is often hard to understand.  Sometimes the training ground of faith is a series of seemingly aggravating growing experiences.  But God allows us to walk through these things, because He can see the culmination of all He's doing in our lives, and it is for our good and His glory. 

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."  James 1:2-4