My Learning Curve: No Farmers Market for my Sensory Boy
They May be Dandelions…
Looming Deadlines
Helloooooo
Mimi Breaks the Block
“There’s Nothing to Eat”
Stop. Take Three Deep Breaths.
At the Mile High Airport
Topsy Turvy Monday
Sometimes you have to ask yourself, “If I could only tell one more story, what would it be?” Tell it Well is my answer.
Part 1: Alone | Part 2: Sought | Part 3: Found | Part 4: Redeemed | Part 5: Bitter
God didn’t rescue me, instead, He became real to me and His presence became powerful. I remember clearly the night my son was born.
Sometimes you have to ask yourself, “If I could only tell one more story, what would it be?” Tell it Well is my answer.
Part 1: Alone | Part 2: Sought | Part 3: Found | Part 4: Redeemed | Part 5: Bitter
I prided myself on being strong and self-sufficient. I could handle things, even if I was only a sophomore in high school. I took the city bus to prenatal appointments, took my vitamins, signed up for childbirth classes, and worked hard at school. At least, that was what was happening on the outside; in my heart, I was terrified. I had no idea what the future held for me and my child. I could not return home with a baby, and I knew my fostermom couldn’t keep us very long. I dreamed of rescue, for somebody to offer me a place to live in exchange for babysitting their children, for a kind person to take me in, for a relative to say I could stay with them. I yearned for one person to say, “I will help you.”
Sometimes you have to ask yourself, “If I could only tell one more story, what would it be?” Tell it Well is my answer.
Part 1: Alone | Part 2: Sought | Part 3: Found | Part 4: Redeemed | Part 5: Bitter
Not long ago I realized I had published over 970 posts. The number kept creeping up and soon I was on the verge of publishing my 1000th post; this nearly paralyzed me. Today is just one more Tuesday and one more post, but I find it sobering to think that I have written my thoughts and tentatively pushed the “publish” button 999 times. There is a sense of responsibility that comes with this.
As I considered today’s post, I prayed about what I most want to say. If this were the last time I ever published a thought, what would I want it to be? Driving through the wheat fields on our way home from Seattle last weekend, I got tearful. I told Russ that I wish I could sit with each one of you and share the one thing that matters most to me.
God is writing a story with our lives, but if we don’t share that story, if we don’t live His story, of what use is it? Today I want to tell you the most profound and only important story of my life. If I had to give it a title, it would have the word redeem in it, because Jesus has gone into the grimy corners of my life and redeemed it all.
I wrote this post months ago, and it sat in my “Drafts” folder as I contemplated whether I should post it. I read it again last week and the timing was perfect because I was discouraged at the moment, and weary, and feeling like life was just harder than I could manage. My own words smacked me right in the face. I must have been very fired up when I wrote this – that’s all I can say. If you think you are ready, read on.
When we adopt children from “hard places,” we are willingly devoting our lives to a challenge. We must prepare ourselves for battle, not with our child, but for our child. We may find ourselves fighting for her physical health, emotional health, and mental health. Without a doubt we will be fighting a spiritual battle like none other.
Would you like to send a Christmas card to a street kid in Seattle? This is a very simple opportunity to show love to the fatherless by extending kindness to a young person living on the streets – in a big city – where it rains all the time – in the winter – where it can be a dark and frightening place.
I would be so grateful if you would spread the word, through your blogs, churches, schools, or Facebook friends. There are more details in the post, Be That Mom. Skip to the bottom if you want the basic facts, such as a mailing address.
Yesterday was the first Sunday of Advent. I love everything about Advent – anticipating the coming of Christ, the candles, scripture readings that tell the story of Jesus, and the children around the table, candlelight glowing on their faces. Jesus came because we need Him – once lost, we can be found in Him, and Advent leads us deeper into that knowledge.
Our Advent traditions are simple, if they weren’t we would never do them. Despite the best intentions, complicated plans don’t go well with our life.
First, I gather five candles.
Today, October 26, 2011, Russ and I have been married for 10,000 days.
Ten Thousand
I smile every time I think of it.
Those days hold:
thousands of mornings waking together
hours of long conversations
hopes and dreams
mistakes
so much love
Today my parents celebrate fifty years of marriage. I’m so very thankful for their example of faithful devotion and love.
How I wish I could write something significant today about marriage, but I am in the flurry of packing my family to head out for a grand celebration tomorrow. I am so happy to be celebrating with our extended family and my parents’ lifelong friends. Life is rich.
Have a wonderful weekend, friends.
Lisa
While on vacation, I spent time with two women who were a great example to me of what it means to be joyful. Both have lived longer lives than I have, and they have known hardship, yet they exude joy. Honeybee told me over and over, “I just love Mrs. H. because she is always so happy.” She wanted to know why Mrs. H. laughed so much and why Mrs. B. smiled so much. I leaned close and told her the best secret of all, “They have the joy of the Lord.”
Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. James 1:27
I was driving through Seattle last week, when this familiar verse came to mind, and as it flowed along, three words jumped out at me.
“…in their distress…”
Distress — how had I missed that?
