I don't cultivate picky eating in my house. It's one of my pet peeves, when people are picky eaters, particularly when they are the type of picky eater who enforces their pickyness upon the rest of us.
You know the type. Everyone's getting pizza? Oh, no. Well, we can only get pizza if you get a pizza with a very little sauce and extra cheese, and please ask them not to season the crust. Otherwise I don't want pizza.
Ugh. It makes me furious. Anyway, not only do I find it respectful to the chef and any group you're eating with to quietly eat food outside your comfort zone, but it is also a matter of necessity in my home. Cooking is not on my list of priorities...eating is...but not cooking. This sounds counter intuitive, but I have done just fine most of my life eating like a "bachelor" as my Dad dubbed it. Cold pasta out of the fridge? Perfect. A sandwich for dinner again? Sure. More Mac 'n' Cheese? Yum.
During my illustrious career of non-cooking I've also come to the revelation that almost ANYTHING tastes good in a tortilla (and heated in the microwave for 30-60 seconds). I would love to kiss the person who invented the quesadilla, although I'm sure the feeling wouldn't be mutual since I've bastardized their beautiful creation for my own purposes. So many options for filling a tortilla...turkey and cheese; chicken, onions, bell peppers, and cheese; squash and cheese; apples and cheese; turkey and cheese and salsa for the Mexican version (haha). You get the drift. Tortilla + cheese + almost anything else = delicious.
There are times when I feel the social pressure to be the wife, and now mother, that cooks great meals, but I just can't bring myself to invest in the art of cooking...aren't there better things to do with my time? Why spend hours investing in something everyone scarfs down in 20 min (let's be real, 10 in my house)?
The other night I made stir fry (from a frozen mix of veggies, frozen fried rice from Trader Joes, and frozen boneless skinless chicken breasts...yes that's a lot of frozen). It didn't taste particularly wonderful. Mostly because I turned the chicken breasts into rubber ( I don't know, it may have had a little to do with becoming impatient and finishing them off in the microwave).
Anyway, here we were sitting at the table, all three of us chewing and chewing and chewing on those blasted chicken breasts and I sent up a little prayer of gratitude as I saw Andrew and Little Man wearing out their jaws on dinner. It's a blessing to have non-picky eaters in your house, particularly if you are the kind of person who doesn't care much about cooking. I'm really grateful that God blessed me with a husband who eats just about anything and never makes me feel bad for sometimes making quesadillas multiple times a week (they were TOTALLY different kids, OK?)!
So, even though at times I still feel intimidated by women who are great in the kitchen, I've learned to embrace my MacGyver-like skills at just getting by in the kitchen. It often involves random ingredients present in the refrigerator, tortillas and a microwave but you sure don't see us wasting away do you? Thank God for quesadillas and non-picky boys. Life's too short to spend in front of the stove.
Hmm, I wonder what's for dinner tonight? :)
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Monday, August 15, 2011
Terrible, No-good, Infection-in-Your-Ear, Pee-in-Your-Pants Day
I woke up tired today. I couldn't sleep last night, and mornings with a two-year-old come much earlier than I'd like. Well, I'd prefer mornings didn't come at all but then I'd be dead, and that's no good. The morning was uneventful; however, since his schedule has been all out of whack because we've had family visiting (yay!) and because he's been sick...he cries if the wind changes direction.
We had an appointment for Little Man at the doctors for a possible ear infection at noon, which worked perfectly with getting him home by about 1 or 1:30pm for a nap...then Mama can take a nap too...lovely.
Not lovely. After getting to the doctor's office we're told the doctor had to cancel all the appointments that day and we'd have to wait hours for another doctor to see us, or make a new appointment many days out. Frustrating. They suggested urgent care. Ugh.
Driving away I made some phone calls trying to find a Walgreens Take Care Clinic since the thought of sitting at a local urgent care for 3 hours didn't appeal to me. So, I headed to south city to the nearest clinic since they said there was currently only 1 person waiting! Yay!
Not yay. We arrived and I started filling out the registration on the computer only to have a peepee crisis and have to run off to find a bathroom. By the time we got back to check in there was another person ahead of us and then we were informed that their lunch break was from 1-2pm...which started in 20 minutes. So, we could come back at 2:15pm. WHAT?
OK, this isn't going to be fun without a nap but we'll find somewhere to have some lunch and walk around. Panera was only a few minutes away so we headed to get French Onion Soup in a Bread bowl. Yum. Things are looking up until..."Mama, I have to peepee. I have to peepee..." in his pants. Are you serious?
I grabbed him and rushed to the bathroom leaving our food on the table, hoping that my bad day wouldn't be made worse by someone taking my food away!! Some wet wipes and a change of clothes later we're back at the table and our food is still there! Phew.
OK back to lunch until...my defiant child starts not listening. Several instructions and a warning later I lift him up and place him in a time out beside me where he starts wailing and holding his arm going "Oww!!" What? Do kids know instinctively to do these sorts of things in public to mortify their parents? Is that lady looking at me like I just hurt my child? "Shhh...you're fine." I pat his little head trying to look extra loving to reassure the sceptical onlooker, but the wailing continues. Time to pack up our stuff (peed clothes wrapped in paper towels and all) and rush to the van where he can sob through his time out without scrutinizing glares. Take that, kid.
Well, it's all of 1:15pm. Now what? Guess we'll go to the park across the street. Running and sliding ensues until, "Mama, I have to peepee, I have to peepee!!!!!" OH MY GOSH WHAT IS THE DEAL? He hasn't even had drank much today! I have no more spare clothes and there's no bathroom so we run for the tree line, wrestle into position....nothing. Seriously? His accident has made him overly anxious..
Well, at least it's time to head back to the clinic. We make it back in time to go to the bathroom AGAIN and wait for another 30 minutes. We get called back to see the doctor. Yes, the end is in sight! A prescription for his ear infection and several stickers later we're headed to the car where...he screams bloody murder for 10 minutes because he didn't get to put his sticker in just the right spot before we left. Sigh. What a day.
Redemption came, however, when tonight we were all in his playroom watching Little Man drive his llama around in his car. Then he yells, "No, baby. It's OK. I'm talking to Mama and Daddy!" He's always talking to and ordering around this imaginary baby so Andrew asked him, "Where is this baby?"
"In the carpet!" He shouts. Well of course.
"What does the baby look like?" I asked.
"Handsome. Baby, so handsome."
We laughed until I almost cried and Little Man chuckled, pleased with how hilarious he was.
And there you have it. A terrible day, not so terrible now.
We had an appointment for Little Man at the doctors for a possible ear infection at noon, which worked perfectly with getting him home by about 1 or 1:30pm for a nap...then Mama can take a nap too...lovely.
Not lovely. After getting to the doctor's office we're told the doctor had to cancel all the appointments that day and we'd have to wait hours for another doctor to see us, or make a new appointment many days out. Frustrating. They suggested urgent care. Ugh.
Driving away I made some phone calls trying to find a Walgreens Take Care Clinic since the thought of sitting at a local urgent care for 3 hours didn't appeal to me. So, I headed to south city to the nearest clinic since they said there was currently only 1 person waiting! Yay!
Not yay. We arrived and I started filling out the registration on the computer only to have a peepee crisis and have to run off to find a bathroom. By the time we got back to check in there was another person ahead of us and then we were informed that their lunch break was from 1-2pm...which started in 20 minutes. So, we could come back at 2:15pm. WHAT?
OK, this isn't going to be fun without a nap but we'll find somewhere to have some lunch and walk around. Panera was only a few minutes away so we headed to get French Onion Soup in a Bread bowl. Yum. Things are looking up until..."Mama, I have to peepee. I have to peepee..." in his pants. Are you serious?
I grabbed him and rushed to the bathroom leaving our food on the table, hoping that my bad day wouldn't be made worse by someone taking my food away!! Some wet wipes and a change of clothes later we're back at the table and our food is still there! Phew.
OK back to lunch until...my defiant child starts not listening. Several instructions and a warning later I lift him up and place him in a time out beside me where he starts wailing and holding his arm going "Oww!!" What? Do kids know instinctively to do these sorts of things in public to mortify their parents? Is that lady looking at me like I just hurt my child? "Shhh...you're fine." I pat his little head trying to look extra loving to reassure the sceptical onlooker, but the wailing continues. Time to pack up our stuff (peed clothes wrapped in paper towels and all) and rush to the van where he can sob through his time out without scrutinizing glares. Take that, kid.
Well, it's all of 1:15pm. Now what? Guess we'll go to the park across the street. Running and sliding ensues until, "Mama, I have to peepee, I have to peepee!!!!!" OH MY GOSH WHAT IS THE DEAL? He hasn't even had drank much today! I have no more spare clothes and there's no bathroom so we run for the tree line, wrestle into position....nothing. Seriously? His accident has made him overly anxious..
Well, at least it's time to head back to the clinic. We make it back in time to go to the bathroom AGAIN and wait for another 30 minutes. We get called back to see the doctor. Yes, the end is in sight! A prescription for his ear infection and several stickers later we're headed to the car where...he screams bloody murder for 10 minutes because he didn't get to put his sticker in just the right spot before we left. Sigh. What a day.
Redemption came, however, when tonight we were all in his playroom watching Little Man drive his llama around in his car. Then he yells, "No, baby. It's OK. I'm talking to Mama and Daddy!" He's always talking to and ordering around this imaginary baby so Andrew asked him, "Where is this baby?"
"In the carpet!" He shouts. Well of course.
"What does the baby look like?" I asked.
"Handsome. Baby, so handsome."
We laughed until I almost cried and Little Man chuckled, pleased with how hilarious he was.
And there you have it. A terrible day, not so terrible now.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
A Different Kind of Family
My skin is varying shades of light depending on the season. In the summer I crave the bronzing effect of the sun to scare away the pasty white pallor that sets in over the winter, but even when I do not heed the warning of the medical field and sit in the sun for hours, you wouldn't think I was anything but Caucasian. My soon-to-be son, however, does not have my complexion. His skin is the color of smooth coffee, distinctly different in shade from either Andrew or myself.
Before becoming a transracial family I did not think much of the fact that we would most likely be welcoming a child of color into our home. Race was not an issue for Andrew and I in adoption. I underestimated the fact that this is not always the case for others. Sure, people might be curious when they see us together but this is the 21st Century! I didn't realize that people's curiosity would often lead to prying questions and condescending assumptions.
It has been just over a month since we met our little guy and only 2 1/2 weeks since he moved in full-time and we have already encountered the world's perspective on race. Although the courts have yet to make it final, he is already our son in our hearts and we just feel like a normal family until people stare at us in public...then I more or less feel like a normal family with weird people staring at us.
The fact is that people are very blatant with their curiosity, even in this age of political correctness. Yesterday, while standing in line at the bank in our community a man asked me if our little guy was my son. Clearly he was just a little curious and making conversation, but, really? "What do you think?" I want to say as my big Mom-bag weighed down my shoulder and I'm telling him to stop running around and stand next to me every few seconds. However, I smiled and kindly answered in the affirmative.
A few weeks ago a lady approached us and asked if we had adopted. "Where is he from?," she asked. When we said he was from "here" she almost looked disappointed, expecting us to say Ethiopia or something I suppose. And, on yet another day, a couple told us "It looks like you do so well with him." Um, he's our kid, should we not do well with him? We just smiled and nodded as we walked by.
On one hand the opportunity as a family to live out God's call to be the Body of Christ with no categories or divisions is exciting. I pray that our family will be a beacon of light and love and that we can be a part of breaking down barriers in the world and in our community and, sadly, in the church as well.
But, on the other hand, it makes me feel protective of my soon-to-be son, even defensive. I know there will be a day, sooner than I think, when our son looks at me and asks, "Why isn't our skin the same color?" and one day after that, when he asks again he won't so readily accept the answer, "Because God made us that way." As he gets older, when someone indelicately asks me in public if he is my son, I dread what look I might see in his eyes. Will he be ashamed, thinking there is something wrong with him? Will he be frightened and confused, wondering if the color of his skin could ever make him not my own?
I want race to matter to my son in all of the positive ways and none of the negative. I want him to embrace his beautifully dark skin and celebrate his ethnic heritage and identify with people doing awesome things in the world that look just like him. I also want him to never think he is anything different than an expression of God's awesome creativity and to never feel alienated or of lesser value in the world and the Kingdom of God.
Life's harsh realities won't always allow this to be the case, but I pray that God gives Andrew and I grace as people point out in front of everyone (including our child) that he looks different than us and I pray that God will give our little guy a strength of purpose and security in our love but most importantly in God's love that will never allow him to be shaken.
There are beautiful things ahead for our family and my greatest hope is that we navigate the challenges in such a way that glorifies the Creator of all people, the Artist that uses so many colors to declare His vast beauty. I pray that as our family grows people won't just see how different our skin is but how alike our hearts for Jesus are. I want people to notice that our family is different, but not because we check different boxes when asked our race, but because we are a family on mission for the Lord bringing God's healing and love in a broken world.
Before becoming a transracial family I did not think much of the fact that we would most likely be welcoming a child of color into our home. Race was not an issue for Andrew and I in adoption. I underestimated the fact that this is not always the case for others. Sure, people might be curious when they see us together but this is the 21st Century! I didn't realize that people's curiosity would often lead to prying questions and condescending assumptions.
It has been just over a month since we met our little guy and only 2 1/2 weeks since he moved in full-time and we have already encountered the world's perspective on race. Although the courts have yet to make it final, he is already our son in our hearts and we just feel like a normal family until people stare at us in public...then I more or less feel like a normal family with weird people staring at us.
The fact is that people are very blatant with their curiosity, even in this age of political correctness. Yesterday, while standing in line at the bank in our community a man asked me if our little guy was my son. Clearly he was just a little curious and making conversation, but, really? "What do you think?" I want to say as my big Mom-bag weighed down my shoulder and I'm telling him to stop running around and stand next to me every few seconds. However, I smiled and kindly answered in the affirmative.
A few weeks ago a lady approached us and asked if we had adopted. "Where is he from?," she asked. When we said he was from "here" she almost looked disappointed, expecting us to say Ethiopia or something I suppose. And, on yet another day, a couple told us "It looks like you do so well with him." Um, he's our kid, should we not do well with him? We just smiled and nodded as we walked by.
On one hand the opportunity as a family to live out God's call to be the Body of Christ with no categories or divisions is exciting. I pray that our family will be a beacon of light and love and that we can be a part of breaking down barriers in the world and in our community and, sadly, in the church as well.
But, on the other hand, it makes me feel protective of my soon-to-be son, even defensive. I know there will be a day, sooner than I think, when our son looks at me and asks, "Why isn't our skin the same color?" and one day after that, when he asks again he won't so readily accept the answer, "Because God made us that way." As he gets older, when someone indelicately asks me in public if he is my son, I dread what look I might see in his eyes. Will he be ashamed, thinking there is something wrong with him? Will he be frightened and confused, wondering if the color of his skin could ever make him not my own?
I want race to matter to my son in all of the positive ways and none of the negative. I want him to embrace his beautifully dark skin and celebrate his ethnic heritage and identify with people doing awesome things in the world that look just like him. I also want him to never think he is anything different than an expression of God's awesome creativity and to never feel alienated or of lesser value in the world and the Kingdom of God.
Life's harsh realities won't always allow this to be the case, but I pray that God gives Andrew and I grace as people point out in front of everyone (including our child) that he looks different than us and I pray that God will give our little guy a strength of purpose and security in our love but most importantly in God's love that will never allow him to be shaken.
There are beautiful things ahead for our family and my greatest hope is that we navigate the challenges in such a way that glorifies the Creator of all people, the Artist that uses so many colors to declare His vast beauty. I pray that as our family grows people won't just see how different our skin is but how alike our hearts for Jesus are. I want people to notice that our family is different, but not because we check different boxes when asked our race, but because we are a family on mission for the Lord bringing God's healing and love in a broken world.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Choose to Adopt
You wouldn't believe the lack of delicacy that occurs when a young, childless couple announces their desire to adopt. "What, you can't have kids?" or "You don't want to have any of your 'own' kids?" or my fave, "So, are you just swingin' and missin'?" have been frequently asked questions as Andrew and I have pursued adoption.
First of all, it makes me sad that so many people, even unconsciously, think of adoption as a last choice option. But secondly, knowing families that have struggled with the very personal and heartbreaking journey of infertility, I want to burst into tears and sobbingly concoct a story about my barren womb just to teach them a lesson in decorum. So far, I have refrained.
Now I know what you're thinking, "So are you just swingin' and missin'?" Haha. I guess it's human nature to be curious about intimate details of other people's lives, and thus I have (very politely I might say) informed people that we have no idea and consider our decision to adopt just the beginning of our family, one that may have both birth and adoptive children in it!
The short answer to the question about our decision to adopt is, "Because God told us to." The longer answer is even still unfolding in our hearts and minds as we continue on this journey, now welcoming a little one into our home. Before beginning the adoption process we would have considered ourselves knowledgeable about adoption and might have subconsciously patted ourselves on the back that we had already talked about adopting someday in the future. Go us. But, as God has led us into this He has humbled us and taught us and opened our eyes to how much He has a heart for adoption, so much so, that He made each of us part of His sacred family via adoption. When you think about it that way, adoption is a perfectly normal expression of God's kingdom...one that doesn't come with pats on the back, but with reverent humility.
I do not think that choosing to adopt because you cannot have biological children is a bad thing. I know many families who have adopted for this reason who have developed a passion for caring for orphans and have been a godly demonstration of God's love as they grew their family. I have also seen a few families in which this is not the case, and that is sad.
How God brings a family to the decision to adopt will be unique in each situation, but God has been teaching Andrew and I that the result in everything we do, including adoption, should be more glory to God not us. There is nothing special about us, just the God we serve. I want to encourage anyone who may have thought about adoption, or maybe those of you who haven't even considered it, that God could use you to impact this world through adoption. There are 163 million orphans in the world, 150,000 of them right here in the U.S. If you consider yourself pro-life, consider being part of the solution by making one of these children your own.
There are many support groups and resources out there for adoptive families. I have found a few to be particularly helpful. I recently read a book by Helen Lee called, The Missional Mom, and while it addresses so much more than adoption, it does a great job of talking about adoption as an intentional choice to bring glory to God in our lives through missional living. Helen Lee also has a website and blog that has links to more resources here. Another great book is Adopted for Life: The Priority of Adoption for Christian Families and Churches by Russel Moore. Focus on the Family also has wonderful resources to find out more about adoption. If you are considering foster care, or adoption through the foster care system I would suggest you search for a Christian support group in your city. We received our training and continue to get support from One Heart Family Ministries here in St. Louis. It makes all the difference to walk this journey with others looking to serve the Lord with their lives and their families.
My prayer for you (and me) is that, "...whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:17
And while there have been and are many challenges yet ahead for us in this journey, Andrew and I have found that following the Lord's direction in our life has given us much to be thankful for...one crazy little two year old in particular.
First of all, it makes me sad that so many people, even unconsciously, think of adoption as a last choice option. But secondly, knowing families that have struggled with the very personal and heartbreaking journey of infertility, I want to burst into tears and sobbingly concoct a story about my barren womb just to teach them a lesson in decorum. So far, I have refrained.
Now I know what you're thinking, "So are you just swingin' and missin'?" Haha. I guess it's human nature to be curious about intimate details of other people's lives, and thus I have (very politely I might say) informed people that we have no idea and consider our decision to adopt just the beginning of our family, one that may have both birth and adoptive children in it!
The short answer to the question about our decision to adopt is, "Because God told us to." The longer answer is even still unfolding in our hearts and minds as we continue on this journey, now welcoming a little one into our home. Before beginning the adoption process we would have considered ourselves knowledgeable about adoption and might have subconsciously patted ourselves on the back that we had already talked about adopting someday in the future. Go us. But, as God has led us into this He has humbled us and taught us and opened our eyes to how much He has a heart for adoption, so much so, that He made each of us part of His sacred family via adoption. When you think about it that way, adoption is a perfectly normal expression of God's kingdom...one that doesn't come with pats on the back, but with reverent humility.
I do not think that choosing to adopt because you cannot have biological children is a bad thing. I know many families who have adopted for this reason who have developed a passion for caring for orphans and have been a godly demonstration of God's love as they grew their family. I have also seen a few families in which this is not the case, and that is sad.
How God brings a family to the decision to adopt will be unique in each situation, but God has been teaching Andrew and I that the result in everything we do, including adoption, should be more glory to God not us. There is nothing special about us, just the God we serve. I want to encourage anyone who may have thought about adoption, or maybe those of you who haven't even considered it, that God could use you to impact this world through adoption. There are 163 million orphans in the world, 150,000 of them right here in the U.S. If you consider yourself pro-life, consider being part of the solution by making one of these children your own.
There are many support groups and resources out there for adoptive families. I have found a few to be particularly helpful. I recently read a book by Helen Lee called, The Missional Mom, and while it addresses so much more than adoption, it does a great job of talking about adoption as an intentional choice to bring glory to God in our lives through missional living. Helen Lee also has a website and blog that has links to more resources here. Another great book is Adopted for Life: The Priority of Adoption for Christian Families and Churches by Russel Moore. Focus on the Family also has wonderful resources to find out more about adoption. If you are considering foster care, or adoption through the foster care system I would suggest you search for a Christian support group in your city. We received our training and continue to get support from One Heart Family Ministries here in St. Louis. It makes all the difference to walk this journey with others looking to serve the Lord with their lives and their families.
My prayer for you (and me) is that, "...whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. Colossians 3:17
And while there have been and are many challenges yet ahead for us in this journey, Andrew and I have found that following the Lord's direction in our life has given us much to be thankful for...one crazy little two year old in particular.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Parenthood: Day 7
We're on day seven of full-time parenthood and it all feels surprisingly normal. Packing snacks and sippy cups for outings and cleaning up accidents and spending an hour trying to get the kid's pool to properly inflate all seem like just another day. Everyone has told us, every chance they get, "This will change your life!" And it has, but then again it also hasn't. I think it helps that Andrew and I are already old, we stay in most nights and we're around kids a lot. So, aside from the lost luxury of sleeping in, not too much has changed.
First week of parenthood: lots of hugs and kisses, dance parties, head injuries as a result of the dance parties, first cold at our house, first time to catch the kid's cold and the whole family feel like crap, hearing his occasional use of Mama and Daddy, reading books, singing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" over and over and over, watching Andrew get more excited about Little Man's new toys than Little Man himself, time outs, picking out the kid's ginormous boogers, good time with friends, and lots and lots of laughter.
It's been a good week...praying for so many more.
First week of parenthood: lots of hugs and kisses, dance parties, head injuries as a result of the dance parties, first cold at our house, first time to catch the kid's cold and the whole family feel like crap, hearing his occasional use of Mama and Daddy, reading books, singing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" over and over and over, watching Andrew get more excited about Little Man's new toys than Little Man himself, time outs, picking out the kid's ginormous boogers, good time with friends, and lots and lots of laughter.
It's been a good week...praying for so many more.
Saturday, July 9, 2011
The Luckiest
There's a love song by Ben Folds called "The Luckiest," which starts out sweet and then ends with something about an old man and a young girl and I don't think it's supposed to...but it kinda creeps me out.
The other day I thought to myself, "I'm the Luckiest." It had nothing to do with that song or old men, but as Andrew and I get to have our little guy around and pray for a smooth adoption process I feel blessed at how God has worked things out so far.
There have been a few responses to our decision to adopt that make it sound like it is a sacrifice for us to welcome a little one into our lives. Perhaps, but no more than any other parent must sacrifice to include a child in their family. There's already been some early mornings and time outs, diarrhea and tantrums--the usual 2 year old thing. To us, it just feels pretty normal.
We've had the same reaction from some people about our lives as missionaries. I've actually had someone come up to me at a church service and say to me, "You must be a saint to do this." I know, those of you who know me are laughing hysterically at this point. The truth is, we're just regular people living where God asked us to live and we wouldn't have it any other way. To us, it seems pretty normal too.
Honestly, the idea that it takes super-Christians to do things like adopt or do missions or fight for justice is what keeps millions of orphans parentless, so many eternally lost, and people groups in oppressive poverty.
We're not special. We just do our best to say yes, when we feel God asks us to do something. My life has not turned out anything like I would have pictured it years ago, but I wouldn't change it for anything. I'm not a glass-half full sort of girl, but when I listen to our little guy singing "Be Brave, Be Strong" with the other neighborhood kids in Back Yard Bible Club I think, "I'm the Luckiest."
The other day I thought to myself, "I'm the Luckiest." It had nothing to do with that song or old men, but as Andrew and I get to have our little guy around and pray for a smooth adoption process I feel blessed at how God has worked things out so far.
There have been a few responses to our decision to adopt that make it sound like it is a sacrifice for us to welcome a little one into our lives. Perhaps, but no more than any other parent must sacrifice to include a child in their family. There's already been some early mornings and time outs, diarrhea and tantrums--the usual 2 year old thing. To us, it just feels pretty normal.
We've had the same reaction from some people about our lives as missionaries. I've actually had someone come up to me at a church service and say to me, "You must be a saint to do this." I know, those of you who know me are laughing hysterically at this point. The truth is, we're just regular people living where God asked us to live and we wouldn't have it any other way. To us, it seems pretty normal too.
Honestly, the idea that it takes super-Christians to do things like adopt or do missions or fight for justice is what keeps millions of orphans parentless, so many eternally lost, and people groups in oppressive poverty.
We're not special. We just do our best to say yes, when we feel God asks us to do something. My life has not turned out anything like I would have pictured it years ago, but I wouldn't change it for anything. I'm not a glass-half full sort of girl, but when I listen to our little guy singing "Be Brave, Be Strong" with the other neighborhood kids in Back Yard Bible Club I think, "I'm the Luckiest."
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Busied to Death
Surely life isn't supposed to be like this. This thought has been bouncing around in my over-crowded mind all summer long. I find myself longing for the end of the day, week, month, counting down the days until the busy summer is over. As if that will fix the problem. Every time I get to the breaking point I think, this is just a season, but then the season starts all over again and I'm living the slow death of busyness once again.
In moments where I am tenaciously clinging to the sanity God gave me I feel convicted that this is surely not how He intended me to live. Running around frantically, half out of my mind, constantly apologizing for forgetting things and acting crazy cannot be what Jesus had in mind when He commissioned us to go out in the world with his love and peace. I think I've succumbed to a culture of achievement, a culture of "have it all, do it all, be it all." What really terrifies me is that I'm already over-extended and kids with all their energy and activities and needs are just now making an entrance into our lives. It makes me tired just thinking about it. But, I don't want to live my life feeling strung out and stressed out. We say to ourselves, just trust God, read your Bible more, find time to pray, but maybe on top of that God is asking us to quit a few things and slow down the pace of life. I painted the words "Be still and know that I am God" on my dining room wall but I rarely live it out.
I'm not sure the systemic changes that are necessary can be made in time to alter the next week of my crazy summer life, but certainly things need to change. With a child entering our lives it puts more than our sanity and emotional health on the line...it puts his on the line too. Am I going to pass on to him a feeling of frenetic activity in the name of serving the Lord or an abiding peace in knowing God and living out His calling on our lives?
I'm taking a look at my life and realizing I'm in need of a few things. I'm in need of learning to say no to things. I'm in need of finding a niche that I'm really passionate about within the ministry I love so much. I'm in need of more quiet time in the Word. I'm in need of time to invest in my marriage, my family, my friends. I'm in need of more Jesus and less activity.
I don't want to be busied to death. I can't keep asking for peace from God when I continue to make choices that shut the door on any opportunity to accept it.
In moments where I am tenaciously clinging to the sanity God gave me I feel convicted that this is surely not how He intended me to live. Running around frantically, half out of my mind, constantly apologizing for forgetting things and acting crazy cannot be what Jesus had in mind when He commissioned us to go out in the world with his love and peace. I think I've succumbed to a culture of achievement, a culture of "have it all, do it all, be it all." What really terrifies me is that I'm already over-extended and kids with all their energy and activities and needs are just now making an entrance into our lives. It makes me tired just thinking about it. But, I don't want to live my life feeling strung out and stressed out. We say to ourselves, just trust God, read your Bible more, find time to pray, but maybe on top of that God is asking us to quit a few things and slow down the pace of life. I painted the words "Be still and know that I am God" on my dining room wall but I rarely live it out.
I'm not sure the systemic changes that are necessary can be made in time to alter the next week of my crazy summer life, but certainly things need to change. With a child entering our lives it puts more than our sanity and emotional health on the line...it puts his on the line too. Am I going to pass on to him a feeling of frenetic activity in the name of serving the Lord or an abiding peace in knowing God and living out His calling on our lives?
I'm taking a look at my life and realizing I'm in need of a few things. I'm in need of learning to say no to things. I'm in need of finding a niche that I'm really passionate about within the ministry I love so much. I'm in need of more quiet time in the Word. I'm in need of time to invest in my marriage, my family, my friends. I'm in need of more Jesus and less activity.
I don't want to be busied to death. I can't keep asking for peace from God when I continue to make choices that shut the door on any opportunity to accept it.
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