It's beautiful. It sucks.

"Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand." ~ Psalm 19:21

March 13, 2017: 

It shouldn't have caught me by surprise. I knew this day was coming. I hoped it wouldn't. I prayed it wouldn't. I almost convinced myself it wouldn't. And then it did. Today was beautiful, and today sucked.

March 14, 2017:

I don't talk about life as a "special needs" parent or about my "special needs son" because I don't see myself or my son in that light.  I am a parent - he is a child - we are both in the process of becoming. But there are some things that are unique to people in our particular position. There are some things that only another person walking your path can fully understand. There are words only another parent on your journey can say to make you feel like someone gets you.

Yesterday was beautiful. My husband and I had the rare opportunity to devote ourselves 100% to celebrating our son.  Thanks to the amazing men and women of the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo Special Children's Committee, Landon experienced the kind of day dreams are made of - he got to be a real cowboy! Family members came to the rodeo to cheer him on as his cowboy buddy took him through the events. He got a trophy and real cowboy belt buckle. He was so proud. The image of him waving his American flag (that he somehow convinced the photographer he needed more than they did) as he rode a horse around the arena is beautifully imprinted on my heart.

Yesterday also sucked. It's funny, I didn't have the right word for how I was feeling, but when I mentioned it to the mom of one of Landon's friends (because I had to tell someone who would understand), she looked at me and said: "It sucks." And it does. I think I just needed permission to feel that way. 

You see, yesterday morning Landon was having a hard time. There was a problem with a game on his Wii-U. This seems minor in the realm of all things, but to Landon this represented a significant glitch in the matrix - this one thing stood to wreck his entire day. He sat on my bed, face buried, repeatedly saying the name of the game and rocking back and forth. His 4 year-old brother climbed up next to him, rubbed his back and said "It's okay buddy, it's just not working. It's not broken. It's okay. Mom and Dad can fix it." 

It was so sweet to see his little brother comfort him and try to help him understand the situation - and it was like a frozen shock through my heart. The little brother had become the shepherd, the guide, the comforter. The roles reversed. We knew it would come. We knew that even though Landon often presents as a neurotypical 6-year-old, he is still different in many ways. We knew one day little brother would surpass big brother in his abilities to navigate and understand the world around him. We knew that little brother would likely one day take on the role of "big brother," and for the first time yesterday - we saw it.  

Landon is amazing. Landon is perfect. Landon is our joy. Landon makes us laugh, and cry, and worry, and smile. He is such a blessing. But to be honest, I can't say "I couldn't imagine life any other way," because I can. I did. When I was pregnant, we struggled with choosing the right name - strong, solid, equally fitting for a future Texas high school football player and the outstanding adult he would someday be as he went about conquering the world. I imagined his entire life. His friends, his sports, his interests. And, I remember vividly driving away from a specialists' office on a snowy December day, when those dreams shattered into a million pieces. I remember excruciating days and nights, trying to collect all of those shattered shards and chips and forge them back together. Eventually, with God's help (and my mother's patience and intervention), a new and beautiful reality emerged from the destruction of the dreams I had built. 

Landon and his Cowboy Buddy

Landon with his trophy and belt buckle

Landon riding a horse in the arena

"Many are the plans in the mind of a man, but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand." ~ Psalm 19:21  

This life was not my plan. Sometimes the unfairness hurts. Landon didn't get to choose his path - it was chosen for him, for reasons I can never know and probably couldn't understand. But Landon is awesome, and I love him more than words, and this verse reminded me that even when my plans don't come to be, God's do. He is all--knowing, all-powerful, all-loving, all-seeing, and he loves Landon even more desperately than I do. I would never have chosen this life, but I am thankful for it. I love it for the highs and the lows and the daily reminders that God is bigger, God is greater, His purpose will stand, and that is beautiful yesterday, today and forever.  

When the church hurts the Church

"14 For the body does not consist of one member but of many. 15 If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. 16 And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. 17 If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? 18 But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. 19 If all were a single member, where would the body be? 20 As it is, there are many parts,[b] yet one body.

21 The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” 22 On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, 23 and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, 24 which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, 25 that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. 26 If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.

27 Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it."

~ 1 Corinthians 12:12-27

*** I want to start this with a MAJOR disclaimer.  This is coming from my personal conviction - from having my eyes opened to where I have been failing as a member of the Body of Christ.  I am not directing this toward anyone or about anyone. If you find it strikes a chord, I pray it quickens you to action, and I pray that you help hold me accountable to my attempts to do better as well.***

This week, I had the opportunity to teach a Life group (Sunday School. Bible Study, Connection Group... whatever you want to call it) for a friend.  Nick was teaching our class as he does every week.  We taught the same lesson (admittedly the lesson he researched and developed - I was just a delivery vessel) on the Church - both the Church with a capital "C" and the little "c" church - the first one being the body of believers in Christ, and the second being the brick and mortar unit with local members where we act on our expressions of faith in a communal setting.

The lesson addressed the "test" against which every activity of the church (and the Church) should be measured, with the reminder that anything not committed to glorifying God is outside the realm of healthy church activity.  1 Corinthians 10:31 - “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it for the glory of God.”  This simple instruction is the charge of every believer. Mutual accountability to this command must be the “DNA” of our churches. This is the only pure motive. Anything less is an impure offering. 

This is where the conviction started to rise up.

Here I was, teaching a class and realizing that I had been in church with these ladies for 2 years, and I didn't know them.  I had seen some of the faces, but I knew nothing about them.  Are they married? Widowed? Divorced? Single? Do they have children? Grandchildren?  Where do they work?  I recognized one from my son's karate school - we had never talked there.  I recognized then that I had failed as a member of both the Body and the body.  

I wondered then - on a larger scale - is my church hurting others in our Church?  Are we hurting them by leaving them unnoticed?

During the service, from the vantage point of the platform, I surveyed the congregation.  There each family sat in "their" rows.  I found the ladies from the class, primarily scattered around the back of the church - many sitting alone.  I recognized looking around that my church looked an awful lot like a high school cafeteria.  There was the youth row; the "cool kids (adults)" row where you only sit if you know you are "in" that group; the young marrieds row; the family rows (where each family literally fills their own pew).  There were faces in the places I expected them.  And then I noticed, around each of these rows were scattered the occasional lone male, the woman who is there without her husband (whose kids are sitting with the youth so she is left alone), the middle-aged woman who is just another face in the crowd... and my heart broke.  

The first time I visited my church, I was alone.  I remember looking around for a seat and knowing intuitively where I could not sit.  The spread out belongings, the group conversations - the fact that I seemingly passed by unnoticed - so I finally took a seat off to the side.  An older member of the church came and took a seat next to me.  She introduced herself to me at the "welcome" and at the end of the service, she stopped me to say "I'm glad you came today," and she asked me "is there anything I can pray for you about?"  That single act was the greatest influence in my return visit, my eventually joining the church, and my finding my place of service within the body.

As I considered this, I wondered, how many times have I missed an opportunity to give that welcome.  How many times have I passed a "face in the crowd" on my way to "my row", or been so caught up in catching up with my church friends, that I failed to greet or acknowledge another?  How often am I preoccupied with my friends while waiting in the nursery line that I fail to to engage with the visitor in line behind me?  

I am not saying that it's wrong for me to have friends in the church, but I think often the church becomes the hub of our social world such that we inadvertently become exclusive.  We say we welcome others - but do we really?  I wonder if we took a survey in the church - how many people would say they felt welcome?  How many people would say they feel "included"?  Are we taking people back to the days in high school where they could hear kids at the next table talking about weekend plans they aren't invited to?  Are we asking people to join our "organization" (our church body), but not allowing them into our exclusive unit within the body?

The Body - the Church with a capital "C" - is made up of all of us as believers and in many instances, we are neglecting parts of our own body as we pursue relationships and "do life" (a new catch phrase in a lot of churches) with others.  It's a tricky balance to reach in making sure that "doing life" with others means community and not exclusivity.  It struck me as I sat in a Life Group that was not my own that when they "do life" together, and my Life Group does "life" together, and the young marrieds "do life" together, sometimes instead of creating community and being the Body (the Church, made up of many parts - each contributing to the whole) - we are create the high school cafeteria.  

So what do we do?  I am not a theologian, but I think it's a simple answer with a tough follow through.  Jesus gave some clear directives: love the Lord with all your heart, mind, soul, and strength; love your neighbor as yourself; and go into all the world a preach the gospel...

So that's what we do. We love God.  By loving God and truly loving His creation - we love people (yes, even if we don't like them; even if we feel they have wronged us -- we don't let the enemy get a stronghold in our heart and ultimately our church through bitterness).  We love the unloveable.  We love those we don't know yet.  We care. We speak. We invite. We share the news of the amazing gift God gave us through His son.  And we ask ourselves "is everything we are doing bringing glory to God" - and if it's not, we make a change.

I know what my first change will be - next week at my church, don't look for me in "my spot." I am moving someplace new in the sanctuary. I am going to sit with someone other than the same old friends. I am going to offer a welcome. I am going to ask someone how I can pray for them. And if more people do the same, maybe - just maybe - the "high school cafeteria" can be transformed into a community where we can see what it really means to "do life" together.  I know I am excited to give it a try.  

He Overcame!

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” ~ John 16:33

[I know I have used this verse in a blog before, but this verse returns to me almost daily and it's the promise that sustains us through so much.]

[I NEVER HIT PUBLISH!  I WROTE THE BLOG MORE THAN 18 MONTHS AGO - SINCE THEN DYLAN HAS MADE AN INCREDIBLE RECOVERY AND WE ADOPTED THAT FIRST FOSTER - OUR SWEET ALLISON.  BUT I STILL WANTED TO SHARE IN CASE SOMEONE NEEDED TO HEAR - HE OVERCAME!]

When I had my first son I thought I had a handle on the whole baby thing, but about a week after he was born, friends started sharing the truths no one tells you about the first months of parenting.  I learned about hormone slumps, marital stress, physical stress, and the horrors of what really happens to your body.  Everyone's tales were similar and the consensus seemed to be: this time is horrible in many ways and you might hate life for a minute, but it's all worth it.

Nick and I recently entered the world of foster parenting.  We were prepared.  We went to all of the classes, watched the videos, and heard the horror stories.  I have prosecuted multiple cases that involved children who were in foster care and had seen that side of the equation.  We have friends who foster.  We knew what we were getting into.  Right.

Our first placement came to us in mid-June.  About a week later, a friend who fosters reached out with the truths no one tells you.  Her words: "Praying for you!  When you do foster care or adoption, you are bringing hell into your home.  Many of these kids are firmly in the grip of the enemy.  There is no hope of meeting Christ in their birth homes.  When they are snatched from the enemy's hand, he fights for them.  He will stress you beyond belief, attack your marriage, attack your children.  Recognize it.  Claim victory."

The day after our foster arrived, the upstairs A/C broke.  The next day the dryer checked out.  The DVD player in the car broke at the start of a 45-hour road trip around the U.S.  Nick and I had to have a heart-to-heart about how to deal with the new stresses (if you read between the lines, that means it was a rough go there for a minute - I laughed to keep from crying and he "got something in his eyes").  Then just when we thought we were finally at least dog-paddling along in the deep-end with our head above water, our eldest son fell from a tree in another state while visiting relatives and landed in the PICU with a fractured pelvis, broken wrist, and a long recovery ahead of him.  That tree was 12-hours away from me and 15-hours from his dad, and we were heartbroken and scared and worried.  And you know what?  I was not okay with this new development.

You see, throughout the last month with our placement, I have prayed.  I have recognized the attacks.  I have claimed victory - but I always added the caveat "please leave my children out of this."  At first blush, it may seem that God refused to honor that plea.  But, I want you to look at the verse at the top of this blog.  "In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world."  

Yes, my son fell.  Yes, he was hurt.  Yes, I do attribute this to another attack.  But God has overcome.  He has overcome.  It is finished.  We may encounter attacks, but HE OVERCAME and the power of the blood of the lamb outweighs any weapon formed against us.  He protected my son and my little man will recover and have a tremendous testimony to share.  But God didn't just protect - no, he is our God of love and mercy who seeks to comfort His children, so He went further than we could ask and He also provided for us and our son.  Nick (my son's stepdad) was supposed to be in Las Vegas for work this week, but plans changed and he ended up going to a far less glamorous place in the middle of nowhere - less than 4 hours away from that stinkin' tree and our precious son who needed a parent by his side.  Nick's presence gave our son, my son's dad and step-mom, and me peace even though our little tree climber is far from home.  

Our little man has a long road to recovery ahead of him, and there are still many more questions than answers, but God's promise is the final answer - "In this world you will have trouble.  But take heart!  I have overcome the world."  

Life may not be the party you hoped for, but while you are here, you might as well dance

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." Isaiah 55:8-9

It's 2:00 a.m. I hear a voice across the darkness. "Mommy!" I run to his room. He screeches and screams. He's hysterical. I go through routines until I find the one that is the salve this time. He looks at me and says "bed" - he wants me to stay. I am awake and tired but couldn't be happier. I cuddle my little boy close to me. His chubby hand pats my arm gently. I nuzzle his velvet cheek and breathe in his Johnson and Johnson's hair. For the moment I live the dream I had all those months I carried him. I cradle the little boy I imagined I'd have. For a moment I forget the life we have - therapy, meds, tantrums, hysteria - it all fades into the background as my angel actually welcomes my attention. I feel his foot shift and I will the dream not to end. It shifts again. I know what's coming but I hold onto the moment for as long as I can. A rhythmic pattern emerges. He's stimming. Reality slams into the room like a spotlight being switched on. The screaming starts. I'm no longer welcome. He has returned to his own world. But thank you, God, for my visit with the angel from my dreams tonight. I hold onto the dream praying one day "autism" won't be part of our vocabulary. And I go back to my bed and sleep to gain strength for another day.

Lord, this wasn't the party we hoped for, but we know your ways are higher than our ways and we praise you for the chance to see a beautiful side of life and experience your world through a different perspective. Thank you for the strength to meet this challenge!

Even in the Desert...

"Be careful to follow every command I am giving you today, so that you may live and increase and may enter and possess the land the Lord promised on oath to your ancestors. 2 Remember how the Lord your God led you all the way in the wilderness these forty years, to humble and test you in order to know what was in your heart, whether or not you would keep his commands. . . 6 Observe the commands of the Lord your God, walking in obedience to him and revering him. 7 For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land —a land with brooks, streams, and deep springs gushing out into the valleys and hills; 8 a land with wheat and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranates, olive oil and honey; 9 a land where bread will not be scarce and you will lack nothing; a land where the rocks are iron and you can dig copper out of the hills. 10 When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you." ~ Deuteronomy 8:1-10

I read these verses as part of my daily devotional this morning, and boy did I ever need to hear their message.

My family is a military family.  I spent 8 years on active duty with the Air Force.  My husband is currently in year 10 of his service.  When I joined the military, I was excited for the adventure - see new places, meet new people, engage in exciting missions.  In my first six and a half years, the Air Force let me live in Alabama, Germany, Mississippi, Texas, and Virginia, and my duties took me to 27 countries and 37 different US states.  My husband lived in Colorado, Mississippi, Oklahoma, and Washington state, and regularly flew his C-17 to points all over the globe.  It was a whirlwind of adventure.

Then in my last year and a half of service, I moved to New Mexico, and my soon-to-be husband also took an assignment here... and it all stopped.

Four years, almost 2 more kids (one is due in 5 weeks), and a second house (to fit our growing family) later, here we are.  His daily grind in the new aircraft and the new mission he joined to be with me here has become only more grinding and some days, completely pulverizing.

And even though I did my own time in the service and I know the drill -- salute sharply and execute - period -- it doesn't always make the sacrifice any easier.

If you've read previous blogs, you know our four years here have been rewarding, but also challenging - our marriage, court battles, the loss of a child, career changes, the birth of a child, more court battles, the coming of another baby - you name it.  And recently, I have begun to get discouraged in still being here.  It's time to move on.  It seems everyone else who relocated when we did is at least one, if not two assignments removed from this place.  Among those who haven't moved yet, it seems like there's at least a light at the end of their tunnel - a new airframe, a staff job... yet here we sit.  The few other families who are still hanging in on a similar timeline seem to be having a similar experience.  This particular job and location take a toll unlike other assignments for many reasons.

I will also be completely honest - I am tired of being away from my family, and they are definitely not coming here!  For once I would like to have a baby with my family present (not that I don't love every one of the girlfriends at the different points of the globe who've stepped in to help with my three previous births - but selfishly, I do want my mom or sisters around).  I want to be able to just pop in and say "hi" to my parents, I want to have coffee with one of my many siblings without traveling 8 - 12 hours to do so.  I want my kids to see their cousins at church with them on Sunday.

But, right now, that isn't part of the plan.  And that's okay.  When God led the Israelites into the desert, He provided for them.  For 40 years "[their] clothes did not wear out and [their] feet did not swell" (Deuteronomy 8:4).  They weren't "home" - they weren't in the land God had planned for them to flourish.  They were in the desert - in a transient place.  I am sure the journey was grinding and sometimes pulverizing.  I am sure their families sometimes got discouraged.  But God met their every need.  And God has met our every need.  We have a beautiful home, well-adjusted children, and amazing network of friends and surrogate family here in New Mexico.  We are part of a loving, mission-minded church.  Our church family has embraced us and our children just as if we were "home folk".  We have become a part of this community and love the people.

So my prayer today is that I will remember: that there is a promised future; that when God tests my heart and humbles me, that I will keep His commands; that though this time is challenging, something else is coming - and when it does we will "praise the Lord [our] God for the good land he has given us."  And I pray we keep our eyes focused, lest we forget to "observe the commands of the Lord your God, walking in obedience to him and revering him" (Deuteronomy 8:6).  And most of all, I pray I will keep close to my heart and mind all the good and wonderful things He has given us through our time here in New Mexico - relationships, blessings, lessons learned - and we trust and believe there's so much more yet to come.  Thank you, Lord, for our time here.

Thank you, Lord, for reminding me today to trust you.

Frogs and snails and puppy-dogs' tails

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'"  Jeremiah 29:11

In the hallway between my two oldest sons' bedrooms, I have a picture.  It appears to be the hands of an adult male wrapped around the hands of a small child whose head is bowed in prayer.  To the right of the picture is the verse above.  I see that picture everyday, and often am struck that God, the God of the universe, has a plan for each of my boys... they weren't accidents or mistakes.  They are divinely appointed creations of a merciful and loving Father.

And some days when I see that picture, I look up to Heaven and say "REALLY, GOD?!"  I love clean.  I love tranquility.  I love rules, order, and discipline.  I love organization and calm and and structure.  And God made me... I would also argue, He made me this way.  And that verse applies to me as well - He knows the plans He has for me.  And in His divine, omnipotent, omniscient wisdom... he gave me THREE sons.

Sometimes I think He did this just for the comic value in watching me run around like a headless chicken trying in vain to suck up every grain of dirt with the Dustbuster, while simultaneously wiping the finger prints off the stainless steel appliances, en route to the bedroom with an armful of errant toys who somehow escaped from their assigned rooms, as I yell across the room "no shoes on the carpet" to one and "don't forget to wash your hands" to the other as he emerges from the restroom.

And the older my boys get, the funnier this scene must be. 

Some kids collect baseball cards or action figures.  Mine collect rocks, leafs, and all manner of other things that God put on this earth OUTSIDE of the home, with (in my humble opinion) no intention of having them cross the threshold.  Some kids bring home stray animals.  I am pleased my children don't do this as (you can imagine) an animal would not mesh well with my cleanliness rules.  However, what my children DO collect is stray children. 

My seven-year-old actually went door-to-door in the neighborhood looking for kids.  And, when he found them, he brought them all home with him - complete with shoes on the carpet, rocks in their pockets, and that special puppy-dog smell that is exclusive to little boys who've been playing outside! 

Good, former-military officer that I am, I stop them all in their tracks for the inprocessing briefing!  Shoes lined up by the wall in the foyer, no food away from the table, no drinks out of the kitchen, no troop-movement among the assigned toys (each must remain with the unit they are stationed with -- in other words, they don't leave their rooms).  But, I always find a rule I should have briefed: doors are used for passing through and nothing more (exterior doors only open for personnel movements, interior doors remain open, we do not play with doors); light sabers are for outside (these are an exception to the toy troop-movement restrictions); karate IS NOT practiced inside; we do not have pillow fights (this includes: using pillows as shields, "touching" with a pillow, and even "but we weren't fighting, we were playing nice!"); hands must be washed after bathroom, before eating, and after outside; we never touch the walls (WHY do children need to touch walls?); trash goes (GASP) in the trashcan; hand towels should be replaced on hooks after hand washing; we ask to be excused from the dinner table; you eat what you get or you wait for the next meal; and the list goes on and on...

An afternoon play date can take more out of me physically and mentally than a short tour in the desert.  If given the option, I might choose the latter!

And yet, knowing this... knowing this is who I am... God also knows the plans He has for me... and He has blessed my home with three precious little boys who I love more than anything in the world. 

So, okay God... I trust you, and even if this part of your plan is purely based on entertainment value, I know you have plans for these young men.  I just pray that you be patient and guide me as I guide them, show me when and where to give, and let them emerge from this upbringing unscathed by all the restrictions and procedures. 

And P.S.  Lord, please help me find a product to get the puppy-dog smell out of the carpet and couch!

One of those days...

‎"But You, O LORD, are a shield for me, My glory and the One who lifts up my head. I cried to the LORD with my voice, And He heard me from His holy hill. I lay down and slept; I awoke, for the LORD sustained me. I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people. Who have set themselves against me all around." Psalm 3:3-6

 

My sister reminded me of this verse today.  How true and how humbling.

 

At the beginning of my day, my soul was stirring.  The Enemy takes many forms in this world to steal, kill and destroy.  He will stop at nothing to rob us of all of our joy.

 

It seems that every time something is happening for our family to celebrate - our marriage, our first pregnancy, our current pregnancy and the impending birth of our son - someone or something is used by the Enemy to try to stamp out our flame of joy.

 

If I allowed myself, I could spend my time in a constant state of worry and distress, continually looking for the arrows that have been promised to be aimed at me.  But God is a God of peace and rest.  He is my shield, my glory, and the lifter of my head.  I called to Him today, in my own prayers and in the blessed prayers of many friends and family who are faithful to lift me up.  And now, I can lie down and rest, for I know God protects me and will sustain me.

 

Blessed assurance.  What a gift.  I am so unworthy and yet God is still so good.

And the Two Shall Become One Flesh

"For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh."  Genesis 2:24

On the occasion of the first recorded marriage, after the creation of Adam and Eve, God said to them: "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and they will become one flesh."  One Flesh.

Though God himself doesn't perform our modern marriage ceremonies, when we are married in the presence of God, we are joined to our spouse far more significantly than "the powers vested by the state of" where ever could ever bond a couple.  We are united to our partner and become one, one flesh, one body.

I think the closest I can come to comprehending the kind of commitment that comes from being "one flesh" is being a parent.  My children are flesh of my flesh.  I honestly love them more than my own life and will go to great lengths and incredible sacrifices for them.  But, those same little people, at times, drive me absolutely crazy!!! 

Now, imagine it's one of those days (today was close!) and we are at the playground when along comes a little guy who is (can it be?) cuter than my own.  He's more captivating, more charismatic, and has the most charming smile and melodic laugh.  Do I leave my son in the sandbox and take off into Utopia with my new-found angel?  I can't even fathom that!  But even if I could, I know that once I claimed this "perfect" little specimen as my own, I would begin to uncover reality.  No one is perfect.  The diapers of the perfect child stink just as bad as those padding the bottoms of my own children.

So why is it then, in marriage, too often people are quick to leave their own "flesh" at the curb?  I don't ask this to condemn, as I have been there myself.  But having been there, I know firsthand the ramifications of such a choice.  I have never lost a finger or a toe or any part of my physical body, but through my own choices, I have lost a piece of my flesh - the flesh God created when he joined me in marriage to another. Losing a piece of your flesh, whether by your choice or not, leaves a mark on your heart, on your soul, on your memory... a mark you will never walk away from.

In the course of any marriage, the man or woman will likely encounter someone who is more attractive, more comical, more successful, more "caring", or more accommodating than their mate.  There will likely be someone who comes along with the power to make one partner or the other "feel alive" again, or for the first time.  Someone will probably make you wives feel beautiful.  Someone will likely make you husbands feel more like a man.  Newsflash: That someone also has flaws!  Maybe he doesn't put his clothes in the hamper, forgets to put the seat down, or squeezes the toothpaste from the middle of the tube.  Perhaps she is an indiscriminate spender, always leaves the dishes in the sink overnight, or hates all mothers-in-law.  Should you choose to remove a piece of your own flesh to follow this "perfect" specimen, you'll find that nobody is perfect.


Today I am watching a scene unfold and praying for the man and the woman involved.  I pray that there is a change of heart and that neither will have to suffer the lifelong pain of losing a piece of the flesh they are through their union in Christ.  I wish I could get through and let one of them know the grass isn't greener.  From where I stand, the words I hear sound too familiar and the heart seems too far gone, but in Christ all things are possible.


Please keep this couple in your prayers.

And tonight, if you are blessed enough to have an imperfect partner who leaves the seat up or doesn't always put their dishes in the sink, thank them for loving imperfect you, and thank God for the gift they are. 

What is a Family?

"Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you." Exodus 20:12

I woke up this morning to an email about "roles and titles" in our family.  My "family" is about as nontraditional as they come.  I have a Mom, and a Mom and Dad, and in-laws I call Mom and Dad.  I have grandparents, in-law-type grandparents, siblings, step-siblings, step-nephews, nieces who are adopted by a step-father so legally part of another family though still very much in mine, a husband who is a step-dad to my kids, sons who are half-brothers, a son who has other brothers and a mom.  Our family tree is full of branches,sprouts, and saplings in the shade... and I love it!

Mother's Day and Father's Day are always interesting holidays in our home.  I work very hard to balance a recognition for all Father's/Mother's in our childrens' lives, as well as my own.  This year, we celebrated Father's Day with other families and honored all of the fathers present. 

My husband is for the first time, an "official" father-to-be, but to say he isn't a father already would be to downplay what he does do.  He doesn't want to ever take the place of our sons' biological dads, but he will be the best male-parent role-model and example of a loving husband he can be.

In his Father's Day card, I wrote him this on "What is a Dad":

A man isn't a dad just because he caused a child to come into the world.  Dad is the man who is perched beside Mom with the camera ready when a baby takes his first steps.  He's the man who stays up late into the night putting together a little boy's first tricycle.  Dad's right there with Mom at the Emergency Room at any hour day or night when a fever spikes or a cough doesn't sound right.  He's "Santa" and the "Tooth Fairy" and every other holiday icon.  He's running behind the two wheeler holding the seat while Mom clicks pictures from the sidewalk.  He's the man who works all day and comes home to practice football drills in the backyard with a 6-year old who has quarterback dreams.  He's a wrestling opponent, a horse, a knight, or strong arms to cradle a hurting child. 

Dad is the man who stays by Mom's side from the beginning.  He holds her hand when the ultrasound shows it's another boy.  He's sitting bedside at every trip to Labor and Delivery and breathing a sigh of relief when the doctor gives the all clear.  He rubs Mom's swollen feet and helps around the house.  He talks softly to his little man each night with his hand resting gently on Mom's ever growing belly.  He'll be the first eyes his son looks into, and one of the first voices welcoming his little one into the world.  And then... he'll be the man who is perched beside Mom with the camera ready when baby takes his first steps... the man who stays up late into the night putting together a little boy's first tricycle... the man next to Mom at the Emergency Room... "Santa"... the "Tooth Fairy"...

I choose to honor him for the father he is and the father he will be.  I choose to honor my son's step-mom for the woman she is and the love she gives him every day when I can't be there.  I choose to honor my sons' biological fathers because they are a part of who my sons are and the identities they hold dear. 


Sure, it can get confusing.  Sure there was tension at various points, but the one constant has been love.

Politics are not good for ones health!

Today, I am expressing discontent with both my President, and some of my fellow Americans.  Monday is Memorial Day.  As a veteran who spent 8 years on active duty, and as a military wife who is called on to kiss my husband goodbye and let him walk into harm's way at a moment's notice, Memorial Day has special meaning to me. 

Arlington National Cemetery also has special meaning to me and many active duty members and veterans worldwide.  It's not just a place - it's a symbol of all who gave the ultimate sacrifice for the freedoms we enjoy in this country.  It is where people I personally know, and those who I never had to fortune of knowing but am connected to by virtue of our being comrades in arms, are laid to rest.

Since 1992, when we were not at war, on only one occasion has an American President foregone the Memorial Day Service at Arlington National Cemetery.  That was when President Bush joined Veterans Affairs Secretary Anthony Principi, Secretary of State Colin Powell, and a bipartisan congressional delegation for services at the American cemetery in Normandy, France, honoring those who paid the ultimate sacrifice on D-Day on the beaches at Normandy.  The joint visit of this grooup


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The Work of the Master

"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."  Hebrews 12:2


My husband and I decided that we needed to update some things around the house.  Actually, I decided it - Nick was roped in to be the unpaid manual labor and subject matter expert (he even dragged his dad along for the fun).  As "we" began with the "little" jobs (we = them working and me noting approval or disapproval), we began to feel like we were on the HGTV show, Income Property.  It seems that every episode of that show goes the same way.  The host comes in, looks over the property, suggests some improvements and gives a cost estimate.  Then, about 20 minutes into the show, you hear the inevitable "Oh no!"  The host and his cadre of contractors have found something unexpected - corroded pipes, faulty wiring, mold - and the estimate skyrockets.

As soon as Nick and his dad started with replacing light fixtures, I heard the "Oh no!"  Apparently, the former owners of the home were quite savvy at "good enough" fixes.  They too had replaced light fixtures (and later we learned, appliances), but had done so in a more creative way (read: completely wrong and somewhat dangerous)!  Thank goodness my father-in-law is skilled with electricity and my husband is a stickler for doing things right.  Together, they redid the wiring, and installed my new lights - then my husband redid the wiring on the appliances and installed my new range and microwave hood.  Of course, all the jobs passed my quality inspection!

Though I will admit to being very frustrated in the process of some of these projects, in the end, I saw it as a learning point and it got me thinking.  As a Christian, how often do I opt for the "good enough" fix rather than really doing what God's word requires of me?  How many times have I started working in a ministry or a new study, but then allowed my fervor to wane when things were "good enough" only running back to God when the project (or my life) was a total mess?

Jesus is described in Romans as the "author and perfecter of our faith".  Not just the author - but the perfecter.  He doesn't start a good work and leave it for us to figure out.  No, He carries it out to completion ("[H]e who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Philippians 1:6)  Can you imagine the mess if He started a good work in us and walked away? 

Consider my house -- a master electrician put in the original wiring, and it was good.  But he considered the job complete and moved on.  Later, others came along, wanting to make improvements, but without the skill of the master guiding them, what they ended up with was a "good enough" product that doesn't pass muster.  But had they turned to the master, fixing their eyes on him, and letting him guide them as they worked, what different results they would have had!

Jesus knew the potential in each one of us when, "for the joy set before him [he] endured the cross."  Who are we to take the work of the ultimate Master and muddle it into something that's only "good enough".  As Christians, we have the honor of going straight to the throne of the Master for his guidance... and even better, He's already paid the price for all of it. 

Lord, help me to avoid the pitfall of making things "good enough" and instead to seek you and your way in all I do - not just when things start to fall apart. 

Ask and it shall be given

"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.  Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone?  Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake?   If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!"  Matthew 7:7-11

The last few days I have been frustrated with my 6-year old.  Whenever he wants something, he tells me what he has and what he doesn't have, and occasionally what he needs (usually while whining) but never asks for the thing that he wants.  Instead, he whines that he was thirsty "all night" or that he has crayons and a notebook but no paper.  Why can't he just ask me for what he needs?  I will be more than happy to give him a glass of water or a stack of drawing paper!

As I was thinking about how much this was driving me crazy, I felt like God was saying, "Sound familiar?"  And you know what?  It does.  I know I tell God what I am worried about, I talk to him about what I have and what I am lacking, but do I ask him for those things?  Or am I just whining to the creator of the universe?

Seeing ourselves in our kids can be a humbling experience.  Lord, help me to learn from my children, and help me see when I am 'whining' and instead learn to ask for my needs.

A New Thing

"See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland."  Isaiah 43:19


Sometimes life doesn't turn out the way we planned it. 


As soon as I put the period on the previous sentence, I laughed out loud.  Talk about the understatement of the century!  But today, at least personally, I am referring to one thing in particular - my career.

I will admit, I have never known what I want to be when I grow up.  Rather, I have flitted through life and whenever the next great thing came along, I jumped on it with enthusiasm.  The last "next great thing" I found - which required three years of law school, a grueling bar exam, and plenty of job-specific training - I really thought would be the "last great thing" [and the angels burst into fits of laughter], but it turns out I was wrong again.

For whatever reason I may never understand, God had a different plan.  So instead of blossoming into a female Lt Daniel Kaffee, I'll be turning in my combat boots for crayons and my meetings for play dates.  I am going to be the one thing I never imagined as I paraded all the "possibilities" of life through my mind - I'm going to be a Stay At Home Mom! 

After the initial shock of this major life twist, Nick and I are really excited about the possibilities.  Imagine actually getting to raise the child you brought into this world?  Being the first person to see their first step or hear their first word.  Being there to kiss away the hurts.  Having the time to be silly and play instead of always prepping for the workday ahead.  I can't wait to get to spend more time with my kids and get to know them in a way I never have had the chance to.

God is doing a new thing in the life of my family, and I can't wait to see how it turns out!

Peace

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.  John 14:27

What is peace?  Some define peace as the absence of something - the absence of war, or hostility.  For children of the 60's, peace became something of an ideology.  To me, peace is many things, but not something that's absent.

Jesus told us, "Peace I leave with you."  It is His gift to us.  I am sitting in my home enjoying the stillness while Carsten and Nick nap the afternoon away.  This is peace.  Driving to work in the warmth of my car, looking out at the snow that still covers the ground, and hearing Carsten point out every cow he sees along the way (and there are hundreds) is peace.  Going to sleep at night, knowing men and women all over the world have sacrificed this luxury so that I can live the life I have is peace.  Being confident that no matter how strong the wind or fierce the storm, my God is always in control is peace.

We live in hectic and uncertain times.  Turmoil seems to lurk around every corner.  But Jesus left us peace... all we have to do is take this wonderful gift He has given.  I wish you all a very blessed start of the new year and the new decade - but most of all, I wish you all peace.

Out with the old...

"There is a time for everything,and a season for every activity under heaven:a time to be born and a time to die,a time to plant and a time to uproot,a time to kill and a time to heal,a time to tear down and a time to build,a time to weep and a time to laugh,a time to mourn and a time to dance,a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,a time to embrace and a time to refrain,a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,a time to tear and a time to mend,a time to be silent and a time to speak,a time to love and a time to hate,a time for war and a time for peace."  Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

As 2009 comes to a close, I find myself doing what most people tend to do ~ reflecting on the year gone by and anticipating the year ahead.  When the clock struck midnight last New Year's Eve, Nick and I had visions of 2009, "Our Best Year Yet," and anticipated the coming year and all we were sure it would hold.  We would be married in April, Dylan would start Kindergarten in September, we'd start on an addition to the family, we'd both move forward in our careers - we bascially had it all figured out.

Things started out as planned.  Nick settled into his new squadron, we both garnered Company Grade Officer honors, I got my certification as a JAG, wedding plans were going great.  2009 was definitely going to be our "Best."

But, then came the rain ~ not a sprinkling, but a torrential downpour.  On the way to our wedding, I was served with court papers.  The ripple effect of that act canceled our honeymoon, led to months of travel and court dates, and ultimately changed where Dylan would go to school.  As we were still spinning from that go around, we found out we were expecting.  From so low, to as high as ever.  Then there was more legal interference.  While I juggled that, Nick left for training (part of the gig when you're in the Air Force).  Then, a few days later, I lost our baby.  Complications from the miscarriage put me in the hospital.  Thank you Lord for the friends who stepped in to care for Carsten and try to make some of this easier.  Once I was out of the hospital, the legal onslaught came even stronger.  And, just when we thought we were done with the fights of this year, I learned my career was about to face a very abrupt change.

Whew.  What a year.  Not what we planned.  Not what we prepared for.  But still, we're here.  A little battle scarred, and maybe nursing a few injuries, but still moving forward.

Friends who don't have faith question how we stand it and press on.  Honestly, when you look at us from the outside, you might think "Whatever they've got, if it allows them to have to face all of that, I don't want it."  But, we know that,no matter how monstrous it all seems, these are merely "light and momentary trials."  God's word promises us that for everything there is a season.  So we thank God for bringing us through the seasons we have weathered so far and we cling to Him in anticipation of what lies ahead.

And you know what, 2009 was the "Best Year Yet" and we can't wait to take the ride 2010 has in store.

The Roller-Coaster

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance." James 1:2-3

"Ah... my poor husband!" So many sentiments that I share tend to start that way!

Most recently, I've had this thought in terms of the roller-coaster ride he's been on for 2 years and 2 months now.

My life took a turn off the rosy path I had envisioned for myself a long time ago! And almost as soon as I stepped off that road, the twists, turns, and tumbles started to multiply! But, after a while, you become almost immune to it. Kind of like the guy who set the world record by riding a roller-coaster for 147 hours straight! All of the motion becomes a new normal. I will never forget - my second year of law school, I called my sister and told her that I had just heard that "normal people" didn't think "XYZ." She confirmed that was actually true and I was SHOCKED! I had always assumed everyone else's thought patterns and processes were just like mine. But, as it turned out, I was the anomaly. My "new normal" had become so much a part of my life that it wasn't even "new" anymore, it just was.

So imagine a man who maybe hadn't lived his entire life on easy street, but somewhere close... and take him from the "blue" slopes of life and stick him on a "double diamond" and sit back and watch the scene unfold. That's essentially what I did with Nick.

He's still learning what the "new normal" is for him. He still has days when his eyes get wide as saucers and he stares at me as if maybe I haven't fully grasped the gravity of what's going on. But like I said, for me... this is just normal.

In our wedding vows, we promised to "Consider it joy" when we face trials because we "know that the testing of [our] faith develops perseverance." THAT has been the hardest of all our vows to live up to, and believe me, we have been given ample opportunity!

Just like the roller-coaster with its dips, twists, loops, and turns... this life is going to take us for a ride. Thank goodness we have God and each other to get us through. So, as we head into the next ride (and it seems there's always one around the corner), I say - let's just throw our hands in the air, savor the thrill, and "Consider it PURE JOY!" BRING IT!

My best friends make up what I call my "court of crazies." When I first met the core of this crew, two of us were in law school and the third was married to a fellow student. We met at the welcome reception. In a sea of perfectly normal people, the three of us were drawn to one another. I used to joke that it was our "crazy: rada

Preparing for the Feast

"The kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son..." Matthew 22:2-14

Every day I spend with my husband is a day I am reminded just how much men and women are both different and the same.

Nick was recently away for some time with his job (62 days... I wasn't counting or anything). While he was gone he found a "new favorite" local restaurant. As his time away drew to a close, he knew his opportunities to go to this restaurant were slipping by. So, he made plans to go there "one last time" with some of his friends. The day of that feast, he "prepared" for his meal all day. He didn't eat. Who does that? Well, apparently he does. He wanted to make sure he was completely ready -- hungry enough to truly savor every bite.

Women too prepare for things, but in a way that (to me, at least) makes much more sense. For instance, any woman who's ever been a bride or a bridesmaid has probably endured the 48-hour tan-wax-mani/pedi-long bath-hair dressing ritual that often leads up to a wedding. This preparation is much more about indulgence than deprivation, and frankly I imagine has to be more pleasurable than starving oneself.

Man or woman, we've all prepared for something at some point. But what are we as Christians doing to prepare for the ultimate Feast -- the Wedding to end all weddings?

Jesus told the parable of a wedding banquet, given by the King, and many were invited, but those who were not prepared were not allowed in. "For many are invited, but few are chosen." (Matthew 22:14)

Am I ready for THE Wedding? If Christ called me to the Feast today, I fear my entrance may be more akin to the mascara-smeared, smoking hair, shrunken-dress wearing bride of my pre-wedding nightmares than that which I am called to be.

But how do you prepare for such an event? I think both men and women have some things right in this respect. We have to "starve" ourselves, depriving our hearts of sinful indulgences, inducing a hunger for Christ, His teachings, and His righteousness. We must expose ourselves to the SON, until His glow can be seen in us -- bathe ourselves in prayer -- and refine our rough edges until we are a reflection of His spirit.

I guess my husband's logic isn't completely off after all.

"I knew you... and chose you anyway"

"Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you." Jeremiah 1:5

How amazing is it that God, the author of all things, knowing full well the roads we would walk and the choices we'd make in this life, still loves us and showers us with Grace?

Early in my relationship with my husband, I knew I was in love with him, and I also knew he was in love with me - and it scared me to death. I was scared because I thought he didn't know me. I thought if he knew all the bad choices I had made and all the ugly paths I'd traveled, he'd realize he deserved better than what he was falling for.

But, God used that to teach me an important lesson. Where I have been is not who I am.

Where have I been? I started out okay. I did well in school. I went to a Christian university. I married my college sweetheart and graduated at the top of my class. Two years later, I was divorced and living life my own way. I was a waitress in a "gentleman's club," I was a "beer girl" in a bar. I married a near stranger and got that annulled within months. I married again, had a child, and divorced within three years. I made one attempt at finding a church, but the receptionist, after asking about the tattoo on my ankle, told me "there's another church in town where you might be more comfortable." I decided not to find out. The next year, I was single and pregnant with another child. I found myself using terms like "damaged goods" in reference to myself. But one day, I realized.... even on those roads, I never traveled alone. God never left me. I was completely broken when I thought of the pain I must have caused Him... He who had already suffered greatly for me. And what an insult to think of myself as "damaged" - before He formed me in the womb, HE KNEW ME, and yet He still chose to bring me into being, He still gave His son for me.

So who am I? I am a redeemed, beloved, forgiven creation of a gracious and merciful God... and, I am the wife of the most wonderful man I've ever known! God is good.

Dylan and Grace - Out of the Mouths of Babes

Sometimes you just have to stop and thank God
for the little gifts - joy, laughter, and the blessings we get from time with our children.

Last week when we were in Dallas, we got to spend some time with one of Dylan's oldest friends, Grace. Dylan and Grace's first play date took place when she was only 11 months old and he was about 21 months. They have been in each other's lives ever since and have experienced the divorce of both of their parents, and the remarriage of three of the four, both have new step-siblings, and a sometimes too-grown-up understanding of the uglier parts of life.

Still, they are a blessing to everyone fortunate enough to know them. When we were in Dallas, we got to witness a lot of entertaining Dylan and Grace interactions - thought we'd share them with you.

Upon arrival:
Grace: Dylan, do you want to see my dress for the wedding?
Dylan: Sure. Grace, you're probably going to look really pretty in that.
G: I don't know, we'll see.
D: You're right - with girls, you just never know.

At the wedding photos, Nick picked up Grace to carry her so that her dress wouldn't get dirty:
Nick: Grace, you are SO light!
Grace: It's because I haven't been tanning!

On the way home from the wedding:
Dylan: So, you think we should get married?
Grace: Probably.
D: So when do you want to?
G: How 'bout when we're 8?
Mom (from the front seat): How 'bout when you're 27?!
D&G: 27?!
D: I know, let's just say 20.
Mom: Nope - 29.
Dylan to Grace: So you want to just move in together?
Grace: That's a good idea.

On the way home from Medieval Times:
Grace: Lola, are you and Nick married?
Mom: Yes we are. Remember the big party you came to with us? The next day we got married. But you weren't there so Dylan didn't have a beautiful little girl to walk down the aisle with.
Dylan (interrupting - 1 finger lifted in the air): Uh, Mom - you forgot.
Mom: What?
Dylan: There was a beautiful girl there. Grace, can you guess her name?
Grace: [SILENCE - arms crossed]
Dylan: Come on, Grace. It was J... Je.... can you guess it? Jess...
Mom: Dylan, it was Jessica. But she didn't walk down the aisle with you.
Dylan: No, but she was beautiful and I did dance with her.
Grace (interrupting): The other day I was just sitting at my table at school - just sitting there, and Charlie came up and said, "Grace, your hair looks SO pretty." And I have no idea why he said that, I mean he just walked right up out of the blue.

And then thankfully we were home... wow, it's starting early!


However, my truly favorite moment of the weekend came right before the wedding started - Nick was ushering guests to their seats, I was finishing covering a few things with the pianist - and in the back row of the church I saw them -- both sitting with heads bowed, eyes closed, praying.

I asked them when they were finished, what they were praying for - Dylan said "the bride and groom need help!" Out of the mouths of babes...