All To Bring Him Glory...

Faced with the question, I was unprepared to answer.  "How can this life bring God Glory?  How can everything seemingly in turmoil, a mess of hurt exploding from four broken babes, exploding all over your once peaceful, joyful, predictable, sweet home... how can it bring Him Glory?  And if it doesn't bring Him Glory, then are you sure you know what you're doing?"  


I didn't know.  I just knew, at that time, when the question was posed that God told me to keep going.  He won't let me quit.  I didn't know the answer to the question, but I did know that I had pledged my devotion, and I had meant it.  I meant it with my whole soul the day I said "I want to see Jesus!  I want to live for Him, and die for Him, and lay it all down for Him!"  And this is the task He gave me, that very day... the phone call came and THIS is the job He laid out for me.  


What might it cost me?  Well, this week it looks like it will cost me the peace I once celebrated as part of "who I was" as a homemaker, mother, wife, woman.  It will cost me most of my spare time.  It looks like it will cost some friendships that could not withstand the time restraints of my new life.  It will cost me my freedom.  It will cost me the belief that I am in charge of protecting my children from adversity.  I stare fear in the face as I work hard to believe that He will cover my own children with His Grace for this situation.  That they might be refined through this process to want to live for Him, that He is not wasting any moment, and that their childhood is being shaped for service and devotion to Him alone.  And isn't that what my hope was for them?


I came crashing down this week.  Thoughts swirled around us, thoughts of giving in and letting go... my son overheard me say to my husband out of desperation this week, "I can't do this job! It's too much for me!"  and his little voice interrupted me - "But Momma!  God called you to do this job!".  ...That's my sweet boy, ministering to his Momma.


...and that sweet son of mine is not wrong.  He called me.  Long ago, He placed this need in my life to help these kids that need a home as they find themselves caught up in a drama they never scripted.  It's my calling. And I am married to a man that is wholly committed and tied to this life work as well.  God brought us together to do this.  And I will not allow myself to believe that our own children will come to harm through this process.  I believe that God is refining them as well, and I choose to be grateful that He has started early in their lives.  How will we ever learn to run to Him if we are not sometimes running from something else?  I see them stand so sturdy on the Rock I know.  These small hearts already sold out for Jesus.  Yes Lord - shine your Glory!  


But for me, and for my home, what is the answer... how in the world can this situation possibly bring Him Glory?  Through an obedient heart.  I will obey.  I will follow.  I want to see Jesus.  I want to know more.  I want to see His Glory shine all over this home, all over my life.


I was, you are, we all were created to bring Him Glory!  I want to shine for Him through my life.  I want people to see Him when they see me.  


Yesterday I was driving along and out of the evergreen trees shone a tree bursting with His splendor.  I wanted to break out in applause.  It was the most brilliant yellow tree I have ever seen.  The sun was shining down on the leaves and it was as if this tree was burning... it was so from Him to me.  He whispered to my soul: ''Look at my Glory.  Look what I can do!''  And at the same time on the radio came the song I have never cherished (not my style) but so new for me that day, and one I will never forget to delight in from now on... "Lift up your face! Lift up your face!  Salvation is coming!".  I felt hope.  He was right there singing to me in that car full of kids as I passed His beautiful display of change, and showed me His brilliance!  


Then you will lift up your face without shame; you will stand firm without fear... (Job 11:15)  And so the answer to that question is simple, and it is beautiful.  It's my obedience that brings Him Glory.  And that... is enough for me.

Our Mission

mis·sion/ˈmiSHən/Noun

1. An important assignment carried out for political, religious, or commercial purposes, typically involving travel.

2. A group of people taking part in such an assignment.

We have found ourselves on a mission.  Traveled to a far-off land.  Carrying out this important assignment is all we can focus on these days - if we are going to do it right, if we are going to accomplish our mission, then we need to remain intensely focused.  

So many things have caught me off-guard, things I never expected would be a part of this journey... namely the reality that we are on a journey.  Wasn't it just February?  Wasn't it just yesterday that we filled out papers to adopt one boy?  Weren't were going to adopt...a boy?

Why is it that I find myself living in a far-off land?  Why is it my heart feels a palatable loneliness and separation from all that I once knew?  I'm still right here, in my home... aren't I? I pull into the parking lot at church, and see all the people I "once knew"... somehow I am always aware that though I live in the same place, attend the same church, shop at the same grocery store... NOTHING is the same anymore.  And no one knows I am gone.

Once, in high school I was sure that I wanted to be a missionary... but that had more to do with a certain boy who knew he was being called to the mission field.  When I read more about life as a missionary in a third world country, he suddenly didn't seem so cute.  But I digress...

Our wings have been clipped.  No longer do we come and go as we please, but each trip is thought over and planned out to the last detail, making sure not to place any undue stress on our little tribe, lest we crash apart on the rocks of emotional upheaval.  I miss my friends.  I miss my freedom.  I miss speaking to people who "get" my life.

So today is all about informing you more intimately of our life, allowing you all to see more clearly what each day looks like; then when we pass you in the Sunday School halls and you ask 'how is it going' and we say 'not so good' you'll know of the reality we speak of.  You'll understand how it is that I have on two different shoes, my hair is flat and I forgot my make-up.

We're on a mission.  We have received our marching orders from the Lord, and we have begun finding the rhythm of our cadence - but the road is getting steep.

I was going to give you a "day in the life of" but I can't choose which hour to begin it in... our clock goes around and around without stopping.  How about bedtime?

Bedtime begins at 5:30pm.  If we aren't eating dinner by 5:30pm then we have lost the bedtime routine that has brought peace (well - what we have come to define as peace) into our home.  At dinner we all sit in exactly the same places, as this has reduced arguing when we sit down and power plays made by our more aggressive kiddos.  Seven plates around the table, with seven glasses at the top of each plate; all marked with a different colored rubber band so that we only have to wash seven glasses a day... instead of twenty one.

After dinner, depending on the mood of our home we all do the dishes.  There is one child among us that was so hurt regarding chores and cleaning in her old home (they were used NOT for shepherding feelings of accomplishment and inclusion - but rather laid upon her, and her alone as a way to punish other siblings who had done wrong.  Their punishment was having to watch her complete these "chores".)  Just asking her to help can trigger a rage response - so we work around her and usually she participates.  On days she opts out, she usually "communicates" her feelings leading out with anger and begins a 2-3 hour process of trying to get us to engage in her chaos and inner turmoil.  We have learned to wait her out - all the while being open and ready to help calm her when she finally allows us to come alongside her and teach her once again how to find peace.  He always brings His Peace... eventually it always comes.

While dishes are being done, and if there is no rage, then the little ones get a bath and we begin lowering lights and change the music over to instrumental music to help us all feel peaceful (by this time of day - it's the two grown ups who appreciate this climate the most!)... 

If it all fell apart, then the dishes will wait on the table while we work in tandem, working together to restore balance to our home.  Our Motto:  People First, Then Things.  It's the only way to fly!

At 7:00 it's off to bed with our two littlest girls.  Their favorite part? "Bible Study like the big girls"... so we sit on one bed together and read of God's Works and Miracles straight from my "pretty Bible"- the gold rimmed pages turning with that beautiful sound - and they are always SO impressed with how BIG He is, and how people come to love Him because He is so Good.  Then they pray, such sweet , sweet prayers and they work down the little list I made for them of people who need to be prayed for - and then I pray for them.  We spend a great deal of time on "no nightmares".  They have never come to get me in the middle of the night - but talk often of dreams that plague them.  And then I tuck one in, she picks a song, I pick a song... I tuck the other one in, she picks a song, I pick a song... and two are down!

Now down to the big girls.  If nothing went wrong while I was upstairs, then there are two "big" girls waiting for me to begin.  They have gotten three glasses of ice water ready for us and we retreat into a bedroom.  We read, each of us taking a turn, slowly making our way through Genesis - I have never read through the Bible before - so it seemed like the perfect choice to take my two girls along with me.  We pray down the list of prayer requests we have acquired from friends (to help teach empathy, compassion and concern for others) and then it's lights out.  My oldest heads up to her room, and I sit beside this volatile one, she picks a song, I pick a song (and in my head I PRAY my GUTS OUT that she will sleep).

I tuck my oldest in - she picks a song, I pick a song...  Meanwhile, my Man has been reading through Genesis with our son, and has tucked him in as well.  I swing by - he picks a song, I pick a song - and down the stairs I go!  It may seem long, 2.5 hours for a bedtime routine, but we decided it beats raging until 2am.  It's a no-brainer. ;o)

If all goes well, she's asleep by 9:30 when we look in on her, and we can retreat together... to the basement where our haven awaits!  (OR we spend our time doing the dishes shoulder to shoulder, sneaking kisses we forgot to give and receive in the climate of business we find ourselves in during waking hours.)

We most often spend our time speaking of the day - what went right - what went horribly wrong, and how to avoid it tomorrow... and how crazy we are for living like this.  "Is this crazy?" we ask ourselves?  Each night we conclude "Yup."

"Can we sustain this?" we ask each other.  "Tomorrow," we always say "we can do tomorrow".  No one would fault us for saying it's un-doable.  No one who has seen her rages, witnessed the anger, the lashing out would ever say "you gave up too soon".   But we would know... we would know we had failed.  We could have done one more day.

God wants us to keep pressing on - I know, I ask Him all the time! (is that horrible? :o)... and so press on, we will!  Last night I asked my husband "'could you ever give up?" (it had been a particularly hard night) and he answered me, "No way, I love her!".  Somehow this little porcupine has found a way into our hearts.  We could never let go.  But the day isn't over, it has just paused...

We will get up in the middle of the night countless times, to soothe away the fears, to calm the raging, to return the sleepwalker back to her bed.  Last night upon hearing her door open, we jumped out of bed and threw on our clothes to go help her and he turned to me and smiled and said "We're like firemen!"  I burst out laughing!  I love this man God has given me for the journey!  I am a lucky girl.


She never really sleeps - if she's not wandering, she's 'sleeping' and crying and moaning, enduring something we don't understand and can only guess at what is plaguing her as we listen to her wail.

Morning comes too soon every morning.  They start ascending the stairs around 7am (thank goodness they sleep until then!) and we begin again.  I dress her, for some reason this is so important to her - so important to becoming reconnected to me once again, and take her "emotional temperature" so to speak.  I've learned to read her quickly and try to get ahead of those rages as soon as I spot one from far off.

We work to get all five of them dressed and ready for the day, breakfast, dishes, chores...  and we try to figure out which breathing and sighing to ignore, and which to correct.  One little slip of anger left to be unleashed, and we are facing a two hour battle, or more.

The day continues on like this, with intermittent spells of rage from the other two girls - they are not as long, and they are not as violent, but they are exhausting all the same, usually taking us both working together for an hour or more.  

During the day while they are at school, I intentionally fill, fill, fill the love cups of our own two children who have opened their hearts and home to these girls - so openly and freely given and shared their parents with girls who are taking so much of the time they used to know.

After school, I work with her for an hour while my darlin' man takes the other four and we rock, and she learns how to connect again, and we sing together, and we work on training her body to listen to her mind - to obey her - and she loves this part.  It is necessary... every day... it is a non-negotiable part of the day, to help her settle, to help her find a moment of sweetness.

Sometimes we go for long periods of time without seeing the storms... and we get to experience little peeks at what it might be like someday.  These girls are silly - and they are bright and sweet under all the quills they throw our way.  We love to see all five of these children working together, and picture that one day, when they are all healed, we will have accomplished something great for Him... rescued these three from their own violence and rage... and our mission will be complete.

Until then, I will be here.  In my home - watching and training and playing (they MUST learn to play and laugh!) on my "mission field".  And I will try not to envy the freedom I once knew, try not to long for pieces of my old life that held so much flexibility... and I will focus my eyes on Our Mission Field... and thank the Good Lord it's not in a third world country!

A Broken Heart...

Grief has overcome me today.


My chest aches, such a heaviness in my heart and through my very being. I feel pinned down by the weight of it all - as if I might burst at the memory of it.


It was a simple task that prompted it, just my own hands following the routine of Saturday morning breakfast, that jolted her to my mind, and instantly I felt my heart rip apart.


It's not always this way, most days those big brown eyes come to my mind's eye and I smile at the days we spent together - 19 months right to the very day... 19 months of love, and sharing my heart; of giving all of myself to a little brown baby I wanted to call my own.


I remember the night they put her in my arms... the very moment my hands touched her.  All chubby and round, and I found fear in her little eyes, scared at the drama she found herself caught up in.  I watched her sleep all night, just wanting her to feel safe in our home, wanting to fill whatever it was in her that might be empty or broken; to awaken the parts of her that had yet to stir.


And all the next day, as I rocked her and sang, I prayed that the Lord would give me a Mother's Heart for this child - so that she could grow up in the arms of sacrificial love; begged Him to teach me how to give my heart away to a child who never knew my heartbeat... all the while knowing that she might one day leave with this very heart of mine.


I keep pulling myself away from the hustle and bustle of this noisy, happy house today - looking for space to grieve my baby.  "She was never really yours" someone said to me awhile back... this may be true in the legal realm - but my heart, my soul, and my arms knew no difference.  


And I know without a doubt that she didn't know either - she had come to rest easily in that place of belonging... this child of my heart that never knew my breast.  The little babe that stood in front of our family's Annual Christmas Talent Show curtain singing: "Ninkle, Ninkle, Little Star" and knew that she belonged - and basked in the safety of family, of Love, of Him.


I ache today, at what she must think.  Where is my Mommy?  Where is my Daddy?  Why can't I be with them?  What did I do wrong?  Am I safe?  


And I pray, oh how I pray.  I cover her in earnest prayer that the Lord would go in my stead, and speak to her little heart.  That He would protect her, fight for her, surround her, save her, nurture her, guide her and call to her all the days of her life.


And then I lay her at His feet once again, trusting Him to care for this child while I cannot.  Trusting that His love for her is greater than anything I could ever give her, or feel for her and that His goodness is unchangeable and eternal.


Still, I grieve.  I wish there was a way to feel this sadness without enduring the physical pain I feel in my chest.  It is unsettling and it is crushing.


As I listen around my home I can hear the feet and shouts and squeals of three more babes that have found their way into my "mother space" and I wince at the grief that is most likely to come one day.  I have done it again - given my heart away, recklessly wrapping it around three babes who needed the covering of sacrificial love, mother love.  I fight the desperation that rises inside me.


The only good I can see today in all of this is the lesson to love hard, to love intentionally and to never wait until tomorrow.  Today is all I am guaranteed with these girls - today is all we have to teach our children what it means to lay our lives down for another... to teach them to Love.


I anxiously await the quiet of my evening, where I can find the privacy needed to share my heart with my husband and faithful partner on this road - the only other one that knows the loss of my heart and shares it's searing pain.  I know already where he will take me - straight to the Author of this Love I find myself giving again... and together we'll find rest, and healing.


And now, I have to find a way to press on.  For there are five children in this home that need a mother with a heart that is alive and flowing freely.  So I will continue to look to Him to help me walk this road with confidence, that when the day comes that I have to say goodbye, He will be there waiting... waiting to heal my broken heart.

Great Wolf Lodge

We waited to tell them where we were going until we were almost there.  They wanted to know why we had the cooler with us.  "Because we have a lot of errands to do, and we're going to be gone a long time, and I don't want us to get hungry."


"Oh.  Well, why do we have all those suitcases?"


"In case it rains.  Then we have dry clothes and all the coats."


"Oh.  Well, why do we have to drive so long?"


"Oh, well... (think, think, think...) Every so often you have to drive your van to Olympia and get it registered.  We're going to do that today."  (Please forgive me for lying to my kids, Lord.)


...And then Daddy gave them the news.  We took all five by surprise!  And that was my favorite moment... until the other 1200 favorite moments that came after that.


We checked in and then came some of these:


"Oh, Daddy, it's a PALACE!  You bought us a palace for our trip!"


"Thank you, Daddy.  For showing me what a happy day feels like!"


"Oh Look! (Hands clasped over her mouth) There is a REAL bathtub! And a Fridge-R-rator!  (Squeal!)  And a microwave, OH! and a curtain... oh, these are palace curtains!"


"Oh, Thank you, GOD!"


"Guys?  We are really in a kingdom.  I think we really are!"


"Watch me!  I'm turning on the FIREPLACE!!!"


"LOOK!!! There are BEDS!  LOOK!  Real BEDS just for US!"


...and then there was 1 million trips up the stairs to fly down the "Howlin' Tornado", the wave pool, the Lilly pads, the fort, the kiddie pool, every single tube conquered, the basketball pool, climbing on the snake, complimentary towels (MOM!!! They let you use the towels!!! They are WARM!!!), wearing their brand new flip flops all around, a trip to fill the ice bucket, the testing of the room key ("What if a bad man comes?  Can a bad man get in our room?"), the testing of the room key on all of our neighbors' doors (just to make sure each key only worked for ONE room), a picnic around our coffee table, calling Nanny and Poppy to tell them every single part (times five!), seeing the Howlin' Tornado lit up at night,  family bible study on the big bed ("Hello Nanny?  We were just readin'... do you know the one about Shadrack, Sherack, and Abendeedago?  (Close enough - right?)  Well - they were thrown in that firey fire by the bad king, and Jesus was in there with 'em and do you know that when they came out not ONE HAIR was burned, and they didn't even smell like fire!"), practicing "smiling to your eyes" to new people, "please" and "thank you" and "may I's" all over the lodge without being prompted (!), my first kiss from my middle girl - offered to me on her own (one of my favorite parts!), silly songs sung, a bit of dreaming:  "I wish we could be yours" (me too, darlin'...), and 50 little sleeping toes tucked in - 40 of which got right to sleep... but it's hard to sleep right away when you are five and you are holding a glow in the dark wand... in a palace... :o)


We hopped in that pool right around 9am the next morning, and we didn't stop until 8:30pm.  We did, however, take a bit of an intermission around 2:30.  We had lunch in the Big Living Room, and then let the two jumping beans sleep on the big couches in front of us for hours, while our three big kids ran all over the lodge, solving the MagiQuest.  It was beautiful.  They shared the wand, they worked together, they ran hard and fast, and they came down after every quest was completed to give us an update. We wondered if our girl could handle it... so much patience, so much delayed gratification... and it turned out she led the way to "trying one more" over and over... in fact... they worked for over 4 hours together solving puzzles and sharing that wand together.


We sat in the living room by the fireplace and held down "homebase" and watched them running back and forth and up and down... I was proud of my kids... delighted to see them all working together and sharing and "putting their heads together" to figure it out, encouraging each other, and laughing.


When it was time to leave, they all piled in the van and thanked Daddy for saving and planning and surprising them.  And we promised to go again someday. . . and I thanked the Lord for this beautiful family He has given us for now. . . and for somehow creating something New and Good and Sweet in our family.


Thank you all for praying for our time together.  It was everything we had hoped it would be!

Moving Day...

Last night at 9:00pm every child in my house was asleep.  This is God's gift to us and evidence that He is at work in our home... that His hand is on this little one.  Prior to this calming turn two days ago, our little one once stayed up three days without sleep raging on and on and on...


Our weekend had been horrible... not as bad as before - but definitely not good.  Last week was a constant nightmare, involving running into the road, biting Daddy when he tried to pull her from the danger of traffic, kicking, hitting, scratching, raging... when we tried to take a two day respite break, it took 1.5 hours, 5 workers, 3 car changes (she wouldn't get out of my car), 2 policemen and 1 detective...  I was starting to believe that it wasn't going to be worth it to try to take a break again.  I felt like someone being held hostage by her fearful rages in my own home.


I found myself driving last week as the tears ran down my face "Father... I want to go home!  But I can't find it..."  I'd never known this kind of upset.  I've never lived anywhere that wasn't a peaceful, joyful, loving place.  I began to fear that I'd never 'be able to go home' again.  Doubt crept in... what if she never heals?


We made BIG decisions.  We opted out of attending the family camp that we had believed was going to be her "saving grace"... suddenly being keenly aware that this was NOT what God had laid out for her path of healing.  Both of the books that we had thought would be our "manuals to learn how to parent her" could not be found.  We were staring down the barrel of THREE behaviors we had decided would never be allowed in our home. What were we to do?  

And then I heard Him speak to me: "I will show you".  

And He gave me this verse:  

I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; 

   I will counsel you with my loving eye on you. Psalm 32:8

It was enough for me... this reassurance from God Himself.  Still, I would dip into doubt through each moment of raging, of darkness all around me - once texting a friend "I don't know how to hear Him!"... and so she was His very voice in the middle of the darkness "Yes you do.  Be quiet.  Bet patient.  Remember what He's already done.  Be expectant for Him to come through again.  Trust Him!  She doesn't understand what your love is..."

And then my enemy turned up the heat.  Presenting us with an unsolvable problem.  "She can't sleep in the girls' room anymore - now what are you going to do?  You... with a three bedroom house... you're renting you know - you can't make walls in the basement, this house isn't yours!  So now what?  When are you going to tell her that she can't stay?  They won't allow foster children to sleep on the couch - go ahead now and let her go...  It's the right thing to do. Boundaries.  This is just about keeping the other kids safe, and there is no other way.  Go on now... let her go..."

And so back again I went: "Father?  What do we do?"  We told her she could STAY!  We told her we would teach her what it would look like to never have to let GO!  We PROMISED! (Oh, WHY did we promise???)  But the real matter is - we DID.  How then, could we make good on this promise if she had no place to sleep?  And suddenly I knew... we could give her our room.


So after church, at lunch... we told her our solution.  And you would have loved to see her face.  Oh, my!  I do believe she might understand our love for her now!  "You see honey, we all know that you can't sleep upstairs - it's just too hard for you to be peaceful up there, and when you have big feelings the other girls can't sleep.  You can't sleep on the couch, because every girl needs her own space... so you see we're out of options... except one.  The only way you can stay is if we give you our room.  And so after we finish lunch, we'll begin moving our bed to the basement and tonight you will get tucked into your own room!"


And since then we have had ZERO rages.  ZERO accidents at night time, and both nights have been peaceful happenings!  

God will make a way, 

when there seems to be no way

He works in ways we cannot see.

He will make a way for me.

He will be my guide,

Hold me closely to His side~

With love and strength for each new day

He will make a way, He will make a way.

She's Home.....

Our little girl came home to stay on Sunday - just five short days ago.  And it's been perfect every moment - just what I'd hoped for!  She loves being here, and we fill her every need just by being our nurturing, loving, predictable selves.  She is appreciative and grateful, and fully at peace.

Oops.  That's not quite right up there.  Let's try again...

Our little girl came home to stay on Sunday - five of the longest days of my life ago.  And it's turned my home upside down almost every moment - nothing like I'd hoped for, or expected.  She thinks she hates us (sometimes), loves us the next,  but mostly we completely freak her little self out with our nurturing, loving, predictable lives.  She is unsettled, abrasive, impulsive, unpredictable and defiant.

We are drowning in our daily lives.  Every day is about getting through to bedtime, and sometimes that's when it all really starts to heat up.  All our attempts to help her find calm are either fleeting or failures.  There are no Hallmark moments anymore.

Every day I make a withdrawal on "what I can do" and then borrow some more.  I'm so "in debt" to myself in terms of energy stores it's crazy.  My enemy tried to counsel me this morning: "What you're doing is too much - no one can live like this forever - what if she doesn't EVER get better? - you could end up having to KEEP her, ya' know - your life is never going to be the same  - it's UNWISE to give this much to one child - it's unsustainable... and on and on and on........"

Craving "an escape" on my way to school this morning, late, flat haired, frumpily dressed, makeupless, discouraged, feeling anger rise up within myself as I recounted the struggle I went through just to get her dressed, I flipped the radio to 93.9 - maybe I could find comfort in Chuck Swindoll... good ol' Chuck...

He was talking about giving - financially - but God applied his words to my heart in a way that seared my soul.  What about giving in an "extravagant" way?  What would that be like?  Really, what would giving in an extravagant way look like in your life?  Giving more than you really should... more than you really have to give...


And it hit me right then.  That's what I'm doing right now. giving this extravagant gift to God each day.  More than I have... that's what I'm bringing.  Step back world... hang on enemy... my Father LOVES this life - He delights in it as a gift to Himself.  I can't out give God!?! What was I thinking?

I hope it brings Him joy - I hope that my gift is pleasing... I hope He sees my heart coming to Him and lights up at the sight of me... for He's given me a life of extravagance, and I am planning on spending it all on Him!

Strength For the Journey

We run out of things all the time on this journey:  Time - Money - Wisdom - Resources - Knowledge - Strength - Energy - Energy - Energy...

I believe with all my heart that God has given these little babes to US to care for, for as long as they need us - and it is only our job to complete.  If I believe that He has sent us out on this journey, then I can know that He will supply everything we need to complete it.  Certainly He shall supply our every need to carry out HIS will.  I have peace there in that thought.

And so why do I marvel when He comes to breathe new life into the two of us?  Why am I amazed at His faithful hand, His timely arrival, His every good thing we need to complete this journey?  Sometimes we remember to ask Him, and sometimes He surprises us with just what we need when we are still unaware of our own deficiency.

I didn't even know how depleted I was yesterday.  Had no clue, really.  Until I stumbled across a friend's doorstep, to return an item, was whisked inside - talking of quilts and granola and kids and sprouted wheat and nothing and everything and when I left... I realized "I am new!".   He knew I was lonely - met me in that place with a silly, witty, funny, caring, loving friend to give me a bit of respite for a tired out Tuesday.

We have been waiting for reimbursement for a few very large items - totaling over $2,000... quietly waiting and knowing God would sustain us until it came - knowing we were right up against a deadline... and here it came today... with a phone call that it is now "on it's way".  Why did I marvel at His timing?  Why didn't I rest knowing He had it all taken care of?  Isn't He wonderful?  Can't you see?

I asked the Lord for a safe, Christian, Loving, Predictable, Perfect (is that too much to ask for) home for our girls - a licensed foster home so that David and I would be assured of "rest for the weary" in the coming months with the girls (as it is now they can only go to a non-licensed home for 24 hours) and our very dear friends (safe, Christian, loving, predictable, PERFECT) called today to let us know they were going to become licensed for us. . . they are going to walk with us on this journey... with the girls.  This is so very beautiful to me.  That would lay their lives down for us in this way... beautiful indeed.

Every so often the day crashes down, and I am immersed in quieting heaving chests of sobbing, holding grieving heads, soothing angry hearts and nothing else is accomplished.  And I'm learning not to fear even this - for it doesn't escape His sight - and He sends Help... and that's the day the phone rings and a message is left (I never get to answer the phone anymore) that dinner is coming.

Lord, I said, I'm going to need some direction here - for unraveling all this brokenness that is manifesting itself so differently in all these little babes.  And He brings me another Mommy from our homeschool co-op to "happen" to sit by me and give me the EXACT piece of information I needed.  She's walked this road before me.  I allow myself to look into the healing faces of her children and KNOW I have found what I need - this is from Him.

This weekend promises to be one of renewal for us.  It is coming (do I even need to say it) at "just the right time".  My co-laborer and best friend and I are going to hold hands, and speak uninterrupted words to each other, and look longingly into each other's eyes.  And we're going to hang on tight to each other and remember that it's His journey and we don't have to be afraid - because He will supply all we need on this journey, His journey.

I will be, I will be,

I will be strength for the journey.

I will be, I will be,

I will be strength for the journey.

1. There is a road meant for you to travel.

Narrow and steep is the shepherd’s way,

and as you say, "Yes,"

letting me guide you,

I will be strength for the journey.

2. There is a cross meant for you to carry.

There is a cross meant for you alone,

and as you bow down

in humble surrender,

I will be strength for the journey.

3. How many times have you doubted my word?

How many times must I call your name?

And as you say, "Yes,"

letting me love you,

I will be strength for the journey.

by Michael Poirier

The Nursery...

I know I've been MIA.  I should have let you all know where I was "going"...

A few weeks ago, I decided to re-do the girls' bedroom.  I had never planned on it being home to FOUR little girls, so we were just using bedding "here and there" to keep everyone warm at night - nothing matching, or even coordinating.  For some of you - this will bear no consequence... others will understand when I tell you it grated on my spirit every time I went to say goodnight.  And even though the room was now home to only three girls - we could NOT have an unmatched bunk up there on the right.  That would never do!

So I set out to find matching bedding I loved that I could also afford for four twin beds; after all was said and done I tallied it would be at least $400 - and that was for Target and Walmart!  I quickly decided to bring the dream into a reality would require some serious DIY.  Especially since I have never sewed bedding before... but necessity IS the mother of all invention... is it not?

Shortly after beginning my bedding, I felt my heart beginning to hear that Quiet Voice directing me back to considering once again parenting our dear one that had just left us weeks prior.  My heart wasn't ready to "dive in" so to speak - not in the least - but I felt the call none the less, and knew that I had to say "yes" if ever they were to ask.

It wasn't that I hadn't over and over wanted to go and get her - hold her in my arms and commit to walking through the healing process once again... it wasn't that I was afraid of hard work, or days of raging... no I'd done that all before; I know the value of that journey...

It was that I did not know how to help her.

And now, looking back, I can see how He prepared me.  Other foster and adoptive friends supplying me with books, videos, before I even needed them.  Offering support and teaching me just what I would need to know...

And after I said "yes" to that Quiet Voice, a strange thing began to grow in my heart.  A love for this child like I'd never known.  A certain knowing that she is to be mine, that this IS my task, and no one else's.  That to turn my back on this child would mean missing out on one of God's greatest gifts in my life.

It was after this longing had grown in my heart that the phone rang on a rainy Wednesday afternoon.  "We know it's very soon to be asking you this... but she doesn't ever ask for her Mom or her Dad - it's just you... all she wants is you... would you consider having her back?"

Do you even need to ask how we responded?  My sweet husband and I already knew we could say "yes", trusting that He would supply us with all we will need.

Then I began to sew with such fervor!  This intensity in me, surprising me with how intent I was to complete this bedding... to see this room come together... "Lord?  What is this about" I asked.  And I heard Him answer me, "You dear, are making a nursery".

Yes! That's it!   The last time I felt this intense connection to any decorating project came as I carried each of my children in my womb... prepared for their arrival with such care and devotion and careful attention to detail.

I don't know how long she'll be here... I don't.  Most likely it won't be long at all, there is a Daddy waiting in the wings - a good Daddy waiting to take her home.  But until such time as she goes home to him, or home to her mother once she's healed... she will be mine.  She is to be mine.

And Courage has come.  To dive right in there, to get right in that mess of brokenness once more and help this daughter of my heart find her way out to the Light.

So I've been MIA.  My Man built this dear darlin' a brand new bed, one that will match our daughter's ~ hopefully to show her that we love her "this much"... and I'm STILL sewing up a storm, in the hopes of completing this "nursery" of sorts in time to welcome her when she "comes home".  For if we are to help her heal... we're going to have to start at the very beginning... and what better place to begin than in a beautiful nursery, prepared by an expectant mother?

My baby is coming home...

Little Things...

I am so grateful today, for little things...

For a son who received 20 sheets of scrapbooking paper (the guy kind) for his paper airplane obsession with such a joyful heart, you'd think it was Christmas.

For the same son who, after he told me the most beautiful thing (which I will hold in my heart forever) I told him "you should write... that was beautiful!" and he said "Aw, Mom!  My "N's" still are horrible!  I try and try Mom, and I just keep getting weird looking 'H's".  I taught him that writing wasn't about a pencil - but rather his imagination... and I saw the look in his eyes, and I believe a spark has been lit and I can see him dreaming up words over there.

For a quiet home.  Four children working away at little tasks, peacefully working away and speaking kindly to each other.

For instrumental music.

For being escorted in the rain by my little boy while my husband parked the van - arm in arm...

For little people using new words and phrases: Extraordinary, Obedient, Appropriate, Amazing, I Don't Care For Any, Gentle, Grievous (!)...

For a sewing machine, and washed fabric, and TIME, and energy to do it!  The kitchen curtains begin today!

For a Father who continues to restore me every single time I run to Him... why would I ever stop running?... and He never makes me wait - He has always come running when I called...

For my husband who is the most amazing, full of character, hard working, strong, steady, never-complaining, gentle, kind, honorable, good-lookin' man I know...

For "I wish I could grow up here forever"....

For Spring Break, a break from it all... a break for all of us... a deep breath...

For minutes of sun breaking through the clouds and piercing through our windows...

For two little baby girls safe now... I can see it... hearts are beginning to rest and heal and turn, slowly turn into something beautiful and soft and tender, and minds are waking up and are starting to dream and play and mimic and pretend and create and delight in life...

I am thankful today - for little things... all these little things... I love this life Lord - thank you for waiting to give me this gift until I learned to rest in you and the days you give me... May I just dance for you a bit now?  My heart is full to bursting!

Under the Mess

A cry for help left my home yesterday.  I sent it under a cloak of privacy, quietly "messaged" to three of my homeschooling friends.  I should have posted it here - for it's an integral part of this journey I find myself in.  My proud heart didn't want anyone else to see me in the pit I felt I was in. 


Why do we hide when we find ourselves in a mess?  Is that real life?  That we might NEVER have our own mess?  If it isn't shared, then we are left with a beautiful facade, of hearth and home and reaching out and serving others; of experiencing success... always, only reporting success?  Would this then really be... "The Life We're Living"?  

But the LORD God called to the man, “Where are you?”

  He answered, “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.”

Seems I'm not the first to try and hide away from being exposed.  

I believe that this life we're living isn't just about us.  And it's not just about these baby faces we've been called to serve today.  I believe He wants to use our lives to point back to Himself.  I believe He wanted to use yesterday to point me to what was hiding under my very big mess.


I sat in my mess... and reached out to three...

I just wanted to ask you to pray for me. I am feeling so discouraged with the quality of homeschooling going on in our home since the girls came. And so filled with a selfish desire to have my OWN family... no more loss... or brokenness, or social workers...  I feel like the laundry and the meals and the visits and the chaos and the training children who've never been trained and their mother messes and the loss and the brokenness have somehow come and taken all my energy and time and drive and order... mostly my order.

I'm so discouraged. It's hitting me today what I've given up to follow the Lord down this path. I wanted my OWN family. I said "I want to see Jesus" and I thought we were going to adopt... I found my adoption papers that had gone missing, by the way. . . in my homeschool closet. 

Today it feels so discouraging to engage in all this change and disruption and for what? I know He is good... I'm just wanting my OWN.  This is NOT where I want my heart to stay. I need courage to follow after Him. I need Him to grow my commitment to HIM so I don't look at the Life I wanted to build, but the one He wants to build through us.

Other people are studying things... and they are making nature journals... and they are finishing what they start.... and they are lapbooking... and they are habitually sitting down to school and I am living in the car... and I still have UN-blown-apart volcanoes in the basement...

Other people are logging hours and what am I doing? Girls, what am I doing? I am training children who are most likely going to go home and unlearn all we've taught them. All the beds aren't a blessing to me today. They are a lot of washing and now the girls' room doesn't match...

What kind of heart cares more for a matching bedroom? This heart is filled with selfish desires.  What in the world am I supposed to be doing anyway? The solar system and sound and light and explorers and Italy and 5 point paragraphs and spelling and how do I know what's important?

This day is a mess and the cinnamon rolls aren't going to work, I can tell by looking at them... 

So there. My mess. In your laps. Help. I'm over here - under this mess...

Me.

Then I called to Him:

"God, what am I doing?  

What's important?  

What's it all for?"

And He answered me.

His voice speaking to me through friends, 

and quotes, and finally 

from His Word, His Living Word:

"And that's your homeschool right now. This is what your children are learning from you. They are learning to extend themselves to others and to put the needs of others before their own needs. This is one of the most difficult of all life lessons to learn -- if we ever learn it at all. And your children have front row seats. The math may fall behind. That volcano may never erupt. But your children will know how to minister to the hurts of others, just like their mama and their Savior."

"After the quake in Japan, I found myself questioning education. 

When Christ returns, what matters anyway?" 

"Remember the Word of God equips us for every good work - the periodic table won't help a bit.  ...But if your goal is to raise from godly children, godly adults, then you are the one for the job.  ...If we are going to worry about our children's ability to learn things we don't know, let's worry about things worth knowing.  God gives us the children he gives us, and gives us the lives he gives us, for his purposes.  He prepares us today for our calling tomorrow, day by day.  He does this perfectly because He is sovereign. ...The point isn't so much, "Bear up under suffering," as it is "Be obedient."  When we trust God in obedience, he gives the grace we so desperately need. ....We need to remember we are not only teachers, but also students."  ~R.C. Sproul Jr., When You Rise Up

But as for you, continue in what you have learned and have become convinced of, because you know those from whom you learned it, and how from infancy you have known the holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus.  All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work. (2 Timothy 14-17)

"Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the LORD is one!  You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might.  And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart; you shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up.  You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.  You shall write them on your door posts of your house and on your gates." (Deuteronomy 6:4-9)

...and there it is.  He is sovereign.  He is in charge of all that comes my way.   This is our mission.  This is our call.  This is our today.  

And so:

What I am doing: Being obedient.  Serving Him first.  Trusting Him for the outcome of my children.  Training my children to love Him with all their hearts, and minds, and souls... as we "teach them diligently, talking about them when we sit in our house, when we walk by the way, when we lie down, and when we rise up".

What's Important: Only ONE thing.  "The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear, O Israel, the Lord is one.  Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.'  The second is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'  There is no commandment greater than these."

What it's all for: The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love. (Galations 5:6)

And so I've decided that it doesn't matter whether our school schedule is a picture of routine and perfectly executed.  What matters is that I routinely look to Him and trust Him for each day for whatever comes, whatever consumes our days.  Receiving it all from His Hand.

What matters is that people continue to be first in our home.  And I trust that the days will come soon where we will fall back into a rhythm of reading and writing and multiplying and diagramming sentences.  My children won't grow up uneducated - quite the opposite - they will be knowledgeable in what is most important; and will love Him with all their heart, and soul, and strength.  

And to think... 

all this was hiding for me to find under what I 

had thought was a very big mess...  

Letting Go...

I can't tell you that yesterday was any different than any other day.  The rage coming from her came upon us out of the blue, like it always does - only it didn't end, it wouldn't be soothed, and it continued to grow as the hours passed us by.

Our first child to ever want to leave... our first call for help to come... our first time to have to make that gut wrenching decision to choose the safety of all, over the saving of one.  She asked to leave...  I didn't want to let her go.

I wanted to help her.  I wanted to be the one.  I wanted to soothe it away, and walk that road no one had ever walked with her, and I wanted to save her little self.

And I had to let go.  We had to let go.

And she's "out there", and in less than 24 hours been moved twice, and they keep calling here asking "for help"... and I can hear her wail... and I can't get to her anymore.

Last week I was in great need... and my friend so desperately wanted to come to my home and clean and cook and love my children... but she was prevented from coming...  She had to "let go" and trust that God would care for me in some other way.

And He did.  And she learned to let go and trust Him.

How do we let go?

Father, hold her when I can't, protect her while we aren't, and love her like only You can.  Defend her, console her, minister to her, heal her, stand in the gap for her, fight for her, whisper to her soul...

Show me that even in this I can trust You, and I can let go... because you never will.

Update:

Guess who was dressed and ready for school this morning?

Mom = 4
Happy Child = 1 (We'll give her a point for choosing well!)

The Battle

Picture our home: 8:00am - Everyone (except my little man, who is sick on the couch) is dressed and ready with bows in their hair and a song in their heart.  Well, almost everyone.


One little dear, is still in her pajamas.  Due to the 3rd grade classroom in 1/2 hour.  Surly-Faced. And. Not. Going. To. Move.  


Oh, dear.  


I had my willing and cheerful daughter go pick clothes out for this pajama clad dear.  When they were presented to her, she promptly went and picked out her OWN choice of clothes and put them on.  OK, not nice... but at least we were moving in the right direction.


I checked the time.  If we RAN out the door now, we would make it just in time.


My son, sick on the couch with a headache and sore throat watches the battle as it heats up between my 3rd grade little darlin' and myself.  He's watching closely - knowing his mom always wins... and also probably wondering "how" I might come out the victor in this situation.


I was wondering myself.  A quick prayer for wisdom, and I quickly ushered the other four out to the van.  It was important to at least create the appearance that I was in charge...


Her hair in knots, and standing "out to here" from her head, she sits... sulking in the rocking chair - and announces she "will not" be putting on those shoes.


She may not - but I CAN!  I gently take Cinderella's foot in my hand and put her foot into the boots, all the while reminding my darling that it looks like she's having a bumpy morning, and that I do care, ever so much for her... but that it is important to get to school on time each day.


She bursts into tears and kicks off her boots.


A quick glance at the clock tells me that we'll be at least 15 minutes late.  Well, that's not so bad... We'll be "fashionably" late to school.


I inform our little battler that we WILL be going to school now.  Would she like to walk to the car WITH, or WITHOUT shoes?  She chooses without.


All goes well until she chooses not to walk any further.  Taking her coat off and tossing it on the sidewalk, she snuggles her toes into her coat.  Mental Note: Wash Coat.


Well now... what to do?  An audience of four is 10 feet away in the van.  I can't pull her into the car (you might be able to lead a HORSE to water, but....)


And so I did what any other self assured mother would do in this case.  


I picked her up like a bride going over a threshold... and carried her to the van.


Mom = 1
Surly Child = 0


My victory was short lived.  The seat belt I had put on my little darlin' had been removed.  Out of the van I slid, until I reached the giant door on the side.  Slinging it open I quickly (we were SO late now) explained to her that seatbelts  were the law, and if I needed to dial 911 for a policeman to come explain the law to her, we could. (Can you even imagine, girls?  "911 what is your emergency?"  Me: "Um. Well. My foster daughter won't get buckled."  Oh, the humbling we receive when we choose to foster broken children!)  


Luckily, the seatbelt was re-fastened.


Mom = 2
Surly Child = 0


Ah - Hah! Now we're talking.  I had some momentum going and I was going to use it!


We got to school, now 1/2 hour late, and from from the backseat come the words "I'm not going to get out of the car".


"No problem!" I interject.  "We are now at school, where I am no longer the one in charge.  I will just run in to the Principal's office and have her come extract you from the van.


Boots fly onto feet, and the crazy-haired child is now standing on the curb.  


Mom = 3
Surly Child = 0


After obtaining their tardy passes, two children head off to class.  One is much happier than the other.  


I explain my morning (and my wet hair appearance) to the secretary who has a good laugh over my story, pats me on the back and sends me on my way.


Oh my.  I'm SO tired and it's only 9:07am.  This is definitely going to be a baking morning.  Yes, this day has "baking therapy" written all over it. 


I've got to run... my oven has now preheated.