About a boy

One of my favorite parenting books (so far) is "Grace - based parenting" by Dr. Tim Kimmel. His main message, the way I understand it, is that all kids really need is a significant purpose, secure love and strong hope. If we manage to instill these into our children, they will grow up to be the kind of people we would like to have as friends.

I remember hearing or reading at some point that the quest for identity and meaning in life is something only "the rich" can afford to do. "The poor" are consumed with finding enough food for the day. That is all they can think about, all their energy goes into surviving. This might be a simplistic summary of the main idea behind it but even so I have often wondered if this is true.

That woman bending over small rice seedlings in a rice paddy all day - what are her dreams? That man, chopping firewood in the forest or the child hauling water from the well to her home - who do they hope to be some day?

I realize that many are happy with where they are in life and I strive to find joy in the daily ordinariness of life, the little things. I think that is one of the big secrets of life. And yet we all, deep down, long for more.

I love this story I heard about 6 months ago about a young man, born and raised in a small village, in the mountains at the Northern tip of this country. One of our friends visited his village frequently and often saw him sitting around with a sad and hopeless look in his eyes. She got to know him and eventually arranged for him to come to the capital city for training. He started learning about electricity, construction, basic business skills, English and basic math. He also heard more about Jesus.

When he first came, he was shy, and spoke with a soft voice. He rarely spoke in front of a group of people. But the longer he stayed, the more he lived in a community that loves Jesus, the bolder he became. Now, he loves to pray out loud and is one of those who teaches his fellow students about what he is learning from the Word. He just can't stop talking about Him. He has been changed.

I love how much this shows how Jesus transforms people. He takes this boy, without hope, purpose, or love and gives him a significant purpose, secure love and strong hope. Shows him that there is more to life than just sitting in his village day after day. That he has a role to play in this world. A chance to leave his mark.

We all need a purpose, we all need love, we all need hope. No other place to find it than with Jesus.

Let your light shine

The chanting of the monks at our village temple just across the street had been going on all day. Now the drums started beating, too. This was the second day of chanting. I hear the drums twice daily, once in the early hours of the morning and once at around 4pm. For me, they serve to mark time but also as my personal call to prayer. Prayer for Jesus' light to shine in this darkness.

I asked my house helper what the occasion was and she said it was the Festival of Bread. People bring rice, bread, and other offerings to the temple for their deceased loved ones, so that they do not go hungry. And the spirits are appeased.

Several months later it is the beginning of Buddhist Lent. During the next few weeks, there will be no weddings or parties. Again the chanting can be heard throughout the day. I watch my neighbor return from the temple. She is wearing a beautiful sinh (traditional skirt) with an intricately embroidered sash across her shoulder. She is carrying the silver bowl with which she brought her offerings to the temple. As a woman, she may not pass items on to the monks directly.

The 4 o'clock drums pick up their rhythmic beating as I hang up our laundry to dry in the hot sun. 'Jesus, show yourselves to those who are seeking you. Help us be your hands and feet, help us carry your light into this darkness.'

Will you pray with me?

After 8 years here, I am still in the learning phase when it comes to culture and way of life. Part of it is a deep distrust towards foreigners due to over three decades of teaching. It is subtle as people are friendly and smile a lot but can still be felt in the wary questions they ask you. Asking what I want, why I'm here, why I'm talking to them,...Part of it is the way urban society has changed drastically over the past years. The tight and natural bonds of village life are no longer seen in a normal neighborhood of the capital city. Neighbors might not really know each other or be willing to help each other out. And maybe they are also distrustful of each other? Part of it is also due to culture, not wanting to lose face or be embarrassed. So it's easier to just stick to yourselves and not say anything that might put your own country and people in a bad light.

Just last week I learnt, that if you want a job, it's good to have money. Because the job is not given to the most qualified but to the one who will pay the most to get that job. For many, this means leaving their homes to move to other provinces (where no one really wants to go) as it's easier to find jobs there (because no one really wants to go there).

A few weeks ago, the 6 year old daughter of a friend was very sick and given a dubious diagnosis and only a 50% chance of survival. She recovered. Only to be pushed down a flight of stairs by a bigger student at her school. She lost consciousness and came away with a severe head injury, was taken to the hospital by the teachers and only when her mother came to pick her up at school was she told of the accident. The teachers and school refused to take responsibility even though there are obviously not enough teachers to warrant a safe environment for the kids. So she's now at a different school with less kids and more teachers.

Today, I drove by a traffic control point where a motorbike with two people on it had been stopped. The controller was kicking the motorbike wanting the driver and passenger to get off. Both were wearing the required helmets but they are sure to be found wanting for some other offence and have to pay up.

I think that is what has struck me these past few weeks. An underlying sense of utter helplessness. Behind the smiles and laughter and seemingly peaceful people there is much hurt and pain and disappointment and abandonment. The system seems random and always against you and there is no one to fight your cause. You have to be on your guard and it's hard to trust others because you never know who will betray you or cheat on you.

So how can we be countercultural here? Building His kingdom with values that are opposite of the way things are done? How can we function when the only way to function seems to be to adapt to culture?

I have been convicted lately, of how my choices, even in little things, affect the world around me. The plastic wrapper I throw in the trash here might well end up in a fish belly or on the ocean floor. Every day, I have to make choices, big ones and little ones. Sometimes it means making sacrifices - time, money, comfort - to choose the right thing. But, if not at least for the sake of my children, I want to try my hardest to be willing to make those sacrifices. Because I care about the kind of world they will live in. To go against the flow, against what others do and say. Because it's what He did.

rejoice

With Dylan I am currently reading 'Catching their talk in a box', the life story of Joy Riddenhof. I had never heard of her before yet she is one of the first, it seems, to travel all over the world and record programs in various dialects and languages, producing records that were then given to many many people so they might hear the Good News.

Apparently, whenever she ran out of money or supplies or had to deal with difficulties of any kind, she would say: "Let us rejoice! Now we will see how God will take care of us." And she would run to the door and wait expectantly for someone to bring her whatever she needed at that time. Which always seemed to happen and come true for her.

I admire that. My tendency is to despair, then try and figure something out on my own, then get angry at everyone for the predicament I am in, then rack my brain for more ideas on how to get out of this predicament. And then, I might turn to God, begging Him to please please help me. Never do I rejoice.

The other day, I said to David:"If you want to buy a second car, you should get yourself a paying job." It was intended to be humorous but it stuck with me and as I pondered I was reminded of Matthew: 'Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness and all these things will be added unto you.'

At times I get tired of this life - of living on a budget, of feeling indebted to others. I get tired of money being an issue, not necessarily just for me personally but for the work we want to do as well. I get angry, at times, for the seemingly 'wasteful' way some people can afford to live. And wish everything could be redistributed. And I could be in charge. :)

But there it is: 'Seek first His Kingdom'. I don't usually see this as the privilege it is. We don't have to worry. We can be as carefree as the lilies of the field. We can rejoice. Because we are in the right place and I have never lacked anything.

October 16th

October 16th, a Wednesday evening. I had read on facebook that a plane heading from the capital to the South had crashed, killing all 49 on board. I am ashamed to say that it was just another news item, something I registered in the passing, thinking I'd get back to it later. Which I did, but in unexpected ways. It wasn't until it became apparent that someone I actually knew had been on that plane that the reality of it all sank in.
It took many days to find all the parts of the plane, to pull the bodies out of the river, to identify the victims. It still seems so surreal that this young couple is gone. And yet it really happened. And we are left behind, dealing with the shock and pain and sadness while they have moved on ahead of us into glory and light and goodness and neverending beauty and contentment and bliss.

Death remains a mystery, yet constant companion. I have seen joy and sorrow mingle as we celebrate a life well lived and reminisce about favorite moments with those who have passed away. We are shocked and left speechless when death happens suddenly and unexpectedly. I think of my grandfather, who was ready to die and yet held on to life for much longer than I would have thought. Why do we fight death? Or fight to live? Especially when we know what is waiting for us?

In the past few years there have been many goodbyes. I said goodbye to my grandfather. Others said goodbye to their father. Some had to say the dreadful goodbye to a baby - one born with severe deformities, one born still after a car accident which in itself remains unexplained. A former colleague and teammate died at age 22 after battling an illness.

Though death comes as a welcome relief to some it still leaves us grieving. Weeping for those that have moved on ahead of us. We weep for moments we are deprived of. Seeing a child grow up. Holding grandbabies. Saying one last 'I love you'.

We weep and fight and pray for life because life is a gift. God breathed on Adam and gave him the breath of life. God formed us and knit us together in our mother's womb. He gives us this life, this day, as a gift.

And life is made up of thin places. Places where we can catch a glimpse of eternity. And before we know it, maybe unexpectedly, that veil will rip apart and we will see clearly. Will live as God had intended from the beginning. But till then we are on this side of eternity. And grieve. And weep. And have to learn to let go. Because we will never understand the 'why'.

The plane crash reminded me of this gift of today. It made clear to me that all I have is now. And in the blink of an eye, in an instant this life here can be over. What will I do with what is given me?

Receive it graciously. Savor the moment - the good and the bad, the lighthearted and challenging. Enjoy - good food, good company, good books. Notice the beauty. Create beauty. Be present and mindful in the moment. Never hold back on hugs and 'I love yous'. Be mindful of your 'last words'. Take risks and don't shrink back from the new and different. Seize opportunities as they arise, even if they might be 'too expensive'. Drink good coffee and not settle for second best. Learn not to look back with regret but know that God is the Redeemer of all. Live today, not yesterday or tomorrow. Laugh daily and strive to be joyful in all. Seek to serve others and make their day a happy one. Smile. Show compassion to others and yourself. Don't hold a grudge but be quick to forgive and seek forgiveness. Celebrate the ordinary with lots of chocolate cake. And most of all love. Love freely and deeply but with open hands. Because in an instant the veil can tear and we might move through the thin place to the other side. With my grandfather's last words to me: 'Until we meet again.'

all you need is ...

A friend shared about her sister's struggle with clinical depression for over 20 years. She got married and had kids but for a long time she could not even function enough to get dinners cooked or take care of her children. Her husband was loving and faithful but not necessarily firm with his children. He let them have free reign, always insisting that they would turn out just fine. And they did.

In ending the story, my friend said: "It's just so cool to see how God really stepped in and took care of those kids when their mom just couldn't."

It reminded me of a workshop I went to at a conference when Dylan was just a baby. The workshop was on family life or raising kids overseas and the speaker said: "God loves your kids so much more than you do. Don't worry about them. Just love them and He will take care of them because He loves them even more than you do."

Whenever I worry about my children, worry about what they might be missing out on because of this journey we are on, worry that I might be messing them up, worry about not being fully present each minute of each day, worry about the many times I lose my temper and make mistakes, I am reminded of that thought: "God loves these children so much more than I do or ever could". And anyone who has kids and knows this love that runs so deep and that hits you with such force the second you know of this life growing inside of you and that helps you press on through those sleep-deprived, hazy days when you feel like you're sleepwalking and your child is just throwing another temper tantrum and you don't know if you can take it anymore...and God has so much more of that. Wow.

At times I tend to see my children as an extension of myself and I need these reminders that they are not, that they are a person of their own right, with their own personality, their own self. That they, too, are my brothers and sister in Christ.

It makes me realize that I need to have compassion with them and show them grace. And show myself grace, too. Rules are good and helpful but sometimes what my children really need is compassion and grace. When my four year old is kicking and screaming because he has all these passions and emotions inside and does not yet know how to handle them all I go into parenting overdrive and think this is a teaching moment and I have to stick to the guns. When actually, what I am realizing, he needs me to squat down and hold him and all his emotional turmoil. And then, when he has calmed down in my embrace, when I have loved him and shown him compassion, we can have that teachable moment.

So often I tend to criticize, stick to principle, judge others for what they say and do. I expect perfect behavior from imperfect children, from imperfect others and imperfect me. How good it is to look into Jesus' eyes and see that they are full of compassion, never judge, and that His arms are always wide open, exuding grace.

I appreciated a quote attributed to Billy Graham: "It is God's job to judge, the Holy Spirit's job to convict and my job to love. "

Someday, when my kids look back on our home, I hope they remember a joyful mama, full of compassion and grace. I still have time to get there....

search for simplicity

It's the height of rainy season. There have been steady rainfalls on most days, interwoven with sunny hours. Everything in the house and outside feels clammy. It is our wettest month of the year.

The last two days the boys (with Alana joining them most of the time) have spent almost all their waking ours digging in a mud hole. They have gone from discovering a long lost Ancient Egyptian grave to making tar to building walls to defending their castle with mud bombs. They jump into puddles, are covered in mud and are discovering the great outdoors. I love to listen in on their conversations while at play, catching a glimpse of the magical world of their imagination. I love how they interweave what we have been studying at school with all that they do in the great outdoors. How it becomes an integral part of who they are right now. I love the growth of their relationships with each other, seeing how they interact and how their personalities shine through.

I often dream of an old farmhouse, lots of space, green hills, changing seasons, living off the land, a closer connection to nature and a more simple and quiet and peaceful life, away from the noise and busyness and smells of the city.

So I am thankful for rainy days and mud holes and the freedom the kids have to be outdoors, to connect with the here and now. It may not be an old farmhouse and my garden so far has not yielded much fruit. But this is the day that the Lord has made and it is a gift to be enjoyed and received and savored. This is the here and now, my present reality. And I am grateful.

Note: This was written about two weeks ago. I wanted to add a picture of muddy faces but you'll just have to imagine those for now. :)

Like a thief in the night

Last week, somebody climbed up to our balcony at night, entered into our house through the screen door, walked into our bedroom and stole, among other things, my laptop and David's super new phone that he had saved up for.

This is the first time we have had things stolen from this house and the first time ever to experience a break-in. That in itself is something I am so grateful for.

I am also grateful that we all slept soundly, that none of the kids woke up and stumbled into him (or her) on their way to the bathroom. We have since heard that the incidents of armed robbery are increasing and for all I know there might have been a gun in our house that night. Things could have been a lot worse.

Still, to know that someone came into our 'holy of holies', our bedroom, one of the most private rooms in a house and walked right up next to our bed and helped himself (or herself) to our possessions has brought along a wealth of extremely varied emotions and thoughts.

Since then, almost a week has passed. I am learning to let go. Let go of the monetary loss. Let go of work that has gone lost. Let go of memories in the form of pictures and videos. It is, after all, just a thing and I won't tie my heart to a thing. The memories are stored. They are part of me. The work can be redone. The thing can be replaced eventually.

Letting go of that 'feeling' has been harder. At times I'll climb the stairs and think of this stranger's feet touching the exact same steps. I look at the screen door that stood ajar in the morning as I woke up and remember those first moments of realization. I replay all I remember of the last week in my mind and try not to blame or suspect anyone.

It is amazing how this incident can rob you of all joy and take the wind out of your sails. Just when things were starting to look up after a challenging start back to life here it's like a blow to your stomach that leaves you struggling for air.

Again I have that choice. To not be robbed again. I may have been robbed physically and materially. But I will not let myself be robbed of joy as well. I don't want to be governed by fear.

The words of Jesus come to my mind:

 "Watch therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But know this, that if the householder had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have watched and would not have let his house be broken into. Therefore you also must be ready; for the Son of man is coming at an hour you do not expect." Matthew 23:42-44

Jesus will come like a thief in the night. Our feeling of security and safety led to slackness on our part. We got less careful and a little lazy. Every day I have that choice of how I want to live my life. I want to finish strong, not become complacent. Not rob myself of joy by focusing on all that could be better. I want to be ready and watchful and mindful and go through each day with an open heart and open eyes and open hands. Live each day fully. Filled with a lot of laughter. And ice - cream.

new life

We have been listening to Seeds Family Worship CDs in our van (they kind of run non stop) and we love them. And I cannot say enough good things about Seeds Family Worship CDs! Even my almost-two-year old little girlie girl bellows along and will sing the songs in the car and while doing her 'work' around the house (aka making a mess). 

One of the songs and verses that stuck out to me this past week was 2 Corinthians 5:17: 

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! 

What amazing words. Made all the more real when I had the privilege of meeting a young woman who had just gone through a traumatic loss. Her life had been full of mistakes and a sad past but through this loss she and her husband found Christ. 

A new creation. The old has gone, the new has come. A clean slate. A second chance. A white robe in place of filthy rags. 

What love that made this possible, this transformation that reaches to the deepest, innermost being of a person whose life up to that point was full of horrific and terrible memories. 

A new creation. Made new. The old has gone and will never come back. What happened in the past is of no consequence because the new has come! 

In light of Easter, I am so thankful for these words, so thankful for this new life. So thankful for the terrible death that made it possible, that paid the price in full. 

The cross, that makes all things new, wipes the slate spotlessly clean. Creates new life and beauty out of the ashes. 

Thank you for the cross, my friend. 

honest

I've been quiet on here for a while. I've been in a slump and it's hard to know how honest to be here. Does anyone acutally read this? I don't know. But writing is somewhat therapeutic for me so here's to all my non - readers. Maybe some day a lonely wanderer in this cyber jungle will stumble upon this space and find comfort.

I've been in a slump and have not greeted this year with my usual giddy excitement over blank calendar pages. I feel like such a failure in every aspect of my life. -As a homeschooler - because every day is a struggle and my kids do not come running joyously when I say those magic words: 'time for school.'  - As a mom - I have been so shorttempered and find myself yelling at the kids over little things that just make me snap. Maybe, just maybe, because there have been a few not so little things that have gotten me to that point. And it just never ends, this parenting gig. It goes on 24/7 and I am exhausted. At times I wish there was a little button I coudl press and that would instantly transform them into the perfect children you envision when they are still in your womb. As a wife - because I have been so tired and emotionally drained that I just want my space and long for 'me-time'. As a kingdom worker - because all I do is wipe bottoms and snotty noses and wrangle the kids and I don't make a difference in anyone's life. As a team member - because, again, I make no difference and it doesn't matter if I'm there or not. As a friend and daughter and supported person - because I have such a hard time to stay in touch and develop meaningful relationships.

I still feel this sense of failure deeply. Every time I lose it and yell at my kids again, or snap at David or whine to myself about not making a difference - I've failed.

And it's made me question my calling. Everyone's talking about calling these days - follow your dreams, discover the Element (great book, by the way) and pursue your passion, be sure of your calling. Is it my calling to wipe poopy bottoms and snotty noses and try to get some education into whiny kids? It's definitely not what I had in my mind when I sensed God calling us to come here.

I've come to the conclusion that CALLING is not that super mysterious and deep conviction of our high something something that magically transforms my lowly everyday into a life of greatness. My calling is to love God and love people and to be thankful. If I do that on a daily basis everything else will/should flow out of that.

Being sure of my calling - what does that even mean? It's putting far too much importance on little tiny me, putting far too much thought on me, myself and I, what I want, what I should be accomplishing, what I can expect of myself. And ultimately, it's what drains us of life and energy. Because we're afraid that we are not doing what we are called to be doing, that we maybe missed something, made a wrong choice, took a wrong turn and should be somewhere totally different, doing something totally different. That the reason we are not accomplishing great things and have amazing stories to tell is because we are not living our calling.

But who am I but a little tiny person in God's great universe. And yet, I am not just that little tiny person but the apple of His eye. What a paradox, what love. And so I was made to praise Him and love Him back. To know Him and make Him known by loving Him. That is my calling.

And I love Him by loving these four beautiful children that stretch me like nothing else has ever stretched me. I love Him by loving my amazing husband. I love Him by being thankful for each gift He gives, by being thankful for all and in all things.

And it is hard to be thankful while taking care of four sick kids while David gets to travel and see things and experience life and meet amazing people. It's hard to be thankful when my day is spent parenting a 3year old who screams and whines and throws things while clinging to my leg. And David gets to have important strategy meetings. It's hard to be thankful when he has stories to tell and meetings to go to and business plans to write and my world revolves around laundry and dishes and food to make and children to love.

But thankfulness always precedes the miracle as Ann Voskamp writes in her beautifully and eloquently written book. And I am always loved and God is always good.

So I gaze at my 3year old now sleeping peacefully next to me and I am thankful for his passion and healthy lungs, for his ability to articulate (however loudly and strongly) what he wants and likes and feels. I am not a failure but a broken human being. Just a mom, a tired mom but blessed. I am right where God has put me. This is the life He intended for me and so I can choose joy and I can choose to be thankful. And the miracles have come.

more words

On Sunday a friend said something nice about me to me. It must have been one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me and I was amazed at the impact it had on the rest of my day. I'd been having a crabby week or month (maybe even a year?) but those words lifted my soul, encouraged me and brightened my day that I felt like skipping like a kid.

It reminded me of a verse in the Bible which, upon searching, I could not really find. But I did find this which fits entirely:

"Pleasing words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones." (Proverbs 16:24)

What a difference a few words make.

I've never believed in the little rhyme: "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me." Because words can hurt deeply. Or they can heal deeply.

Later that afternoon we headed off to our fellowship and upon arrival our second son turned into crazy, tired, over stimulated Elliot. I took him downstairs but he would not listen or respond reasonably. Usually, at home, a few minutes quiet in his room do the trick but I did not know how to accomplish the same effect at the fellowship. My frustration was growing and I kept saying to Elliot: "You are frustrating me."

Eventually he came back upstairs with me and promply fell asleep.

Unable to focus on the message, I thought about the words I had uttered to Elliot: "You are frustrating me." Did those words lift his spirit or just add fuel to the fire and make things all the more difficult? Essentially it was the situation and not my sweet boy that were frustrating me.

How quick we are to speak words that hurt instead of words that build others up. And how much more important to choose my words wisely and practice self - control when I am speaking with these kids that God has entrusted to me. I need to use words that will nurture their soul and build up their self - worth. How quick I am to speak words that have the opposite effect.

We need to make time for words that build others up. Every day goes by so quickly and the busyness of the day to day gets in the way of speaking those kind of words. How often have I thought something but not said it out loud. Or it slipped my mind because of something mundane. It takes discipline and extra effort to keep some words inside and let others out. But I want to take that time to speak words that will lift up because I will never know whose soul needs uplifting.

give me your fish

We recently started the habit of reading the Bible together as a family at breakfast each morning. And even though neither David nor I are a Finisher/Completer (looking at team roles) I am really happy that we have continued to do so for quite a while (compared to our other attempts at regular activities).

So far, we have been reading Egermeier's Bible Story Book (part of Dylan's curriculum) and I have really enjoyed reading stories I am familiar with in a new way.

Last week, we read about the feeding of the 5.000 and it struck me that among all those people only one boy had a lunch on him. Where were all the moms with snacks in their diaper bags? Or men on their way to work with their packed lunches? Or children with the lunch sacks their parents or grandparents had handed to them?

I do believe that the disciples, busy as they were with crowd control and learning from their Master, did not have the time or energy to buy food for themselves. But I do find it extremely hard to believe that among 5.000 people only one kid had food with him.

So I wonder - maybe others had food but did not think to bring it to Jesus. Maybe they thought it was too insignificant, most certainly not enough to feed the huge crowd that had gathered. Maybe they weren't even thinking about food or expecting Jesus to feed them. Or maybe they were thinking about food and seeing all those people around them without food were waiting for the perfect chance to sneak off and eat their lunch without having to share.

We are not told if others had brought food with them but the Gospels do record the disciples saying that it was time for the crowd to disperse and take care of their own meal.

Rereading the four different accounts I do think that the disciples were probably the ones who were starving. And tired. And just needed a break. It sounds to me like something I would say. 'Come on, Jesus. It's dinner time. It's been a full day. Let's call it a night. Send them home, we're really hungry and just want to have some peace and quiet.'

I wonder why Jesus asks the disciples to feed the 5.000 people surrounding them. Is it to teach the disciples to just get over themselves, to not focus on their own needs?

Interestingly, only the Gospel of John records that it was a boy who brought his lunch to the disciples.
Faith like a child. Confidence like a child. Trust like a child. This is why we are meant to be like the children.

For most of the 7 years we have spent here I have felt insignificant. I've asked myself and God what my purpose is. Or rather his purpose in bringing me here. I feel like I've had no impact on those around me and that it doesn't really matter if I'm here or there or anywhere.

Reading this story last week really hit home for me. I wonder if Jesus put on this this whole show just to honor this child's faith and generosity. Because Jesus most certainly knew that this boy was going to come and bring his bread and fish. He knew that this child somehow believed that his food would make a difference. He was not too shy or embarrassed. He did not think that he would have to give something big or great. He just gave what he had.

I think this has been a continual struggle and continual lesson for me. I would love to have amazing stories to tell of all the great things I have accomplished. For God, of course, but I gave or did this 'big thing'. When all Jesus is asking of me is to love him enough and trust him enough with what I have to give, as insignificant as that might seem to me. And so I've been learning for the past 7 years (some people just take a lot longer) and still am learning to just enjoy where I'm at in life and to trust him to do the big things. To give him what I have and am (which at the moment means being a full time mom and wife, because that is all I have energy for). Because I will have amazing stories to tell. Only they will be about all the great things Jesus did.

 P.S. Egermeier Bible Story Book - another great read I recommend to all! :) The little people as well as the big people. 

words (WARNING: very long post!)

I read these words the other night while I was trying to rock Alana to sleep:

'Many Christians remain afraid, for they still cling to an idea of God very different from that preached by Jesus. They remain in Haran with their old belief system intact. They believe they can save themselves by holding still and not breathing or by embarking on fasts, vigils, or heroic enterprises, hoping to coax approbation from God.
Again and again Jesus stated that fear is the enemy of life.
"Don't be afraid; just believe" (Luke 8:50)
"Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom" (Luke 12:32)
"Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid" (Matthew 14:27)
Fear breeds a deadening caution, a holding back, a stagnant waiting until people no longer can recall what they are waiting for or saving themselves for. When we fear failure more than we love life; when we are dominated by thoughts of what we might have been rather than by thoughts of what we might become; when we are haunted by the disparity between our ideal self and our real self; when we are tormented by guilt, shame, remorse, and self - condemnation, we deny our faith in the God of love. God calls us to break camp, abandon the comfort and security of the status quo, and embark in perilous freedom on the journey to a new Canaan. But when we procrastinate out of fear, this represents not only a decision to remain in Haran, but also a lack of trust.' (Brennan Manning - The Signature of Jesus, 1988)


These words spoke to me on a number of levels and subjects and here is a very short run - down on all that I have been pondering these last few months:

1. One of the more recent books I have enjoyed reading with my kids is 'Maybe you should fly a jet! Maybe you should be a vet' by Dr. Seuss. A delightful book about work and what we make it. It caused me to travel down memory lane, back to being a kid when the whole world lay at my feet and opportunities were endless. I still had the ultimate freedom of choice to be whoever and whatever I wanted to be. Growing into adolesence, this freedom was somewhat daunting and I remember agonizing at times about what I should be doing with my life, wondering what my gifts were and where I was headed. The thought that I have just this one life and I didn't want to mess it up was boiling just below the surface. At the same time, I could not wait (on just a few days) to finally be the adult version of me and be where I thought I should be heading.

Now I sometimes look back on my life, wondering if I made the right choices. Would I be who I am today if I could do it all over again? Maybe I should have become a vet?

Now I'm a homeschooling mom, something I never thought I would be, but I'm loving it. And I keep reminding myself that my life is not yet over. I still have any number of years to 'become'. Maybe even a vet. I am thankful for the choices I made, the life experiences I have. I could have done without some of them and regret a few but ultimately they all served to shape me into me.

I do not want thoughts of what I might have been stand in the way of who I might still become. I want to be a lifelong learner, always pressing on, but embracing Today and being content with the Now.

2. I love that Jesus is Immanuel - God with us. To SHOW us dimwitted, stubborn, restricted humans who God is. Because even then, we still cannot fathom just who and what and how God is. And I love that Jesus came for freedom. Freedom from guilt, shame, remorse and self - condemnation. Freedom from restrictions we put upon ourselves. Freedom from belief systems that limit us and put us in our place. Freedom from ourselves, when we stand in our own way.

Last year, one of the big topics up for discussion in our small foreign Sunday evening fellowship was the role of women, specifically when it comes to teaching on a Sunday night (aka preaching, holding the sermon). The camps were not as divided as I had expected but I talked this over pretty intently with a friend of mine whose husband is a strong advocate of one of these camps and I was deeply troubled at how we allow society and other people's expectations and interpretations and thoughts deny us women (in this case) of the total freedom that Jesus came and died for.

Jesus came so that we might LIVE and be free. This freedom entails many different things for different people and I am not saying that everyone has to believe IT the way I do. But we must never allow anyone to rob us of the freedom that Christ gave. I know I'm treading on thin ice so I will leave it at that.

3. Not too long ago, I mentioned to someone that I haven't had my 'Quiet Time' in over a year. With four samll people in the house it's been hard for me to find that perfect time when I can fit it into my schedule and at times I have just been too tired (or distracted by the endless world of blogs, ahem) to 'have my Quiet Time'. Whatever that means.

But I have found God to be so full of grace and love that He still bends down and meets me where I'm at in this season of life. I read snatches of Scripture every now and then, sometimes in passing and am encouraged. I read snatches of books (while rocking the littlest person to sleep) and am challenged. I'm prompted to pray for someone while doing the dishes. And mostly, I have poured out my frustration and thoughts to Him in silent prayers when I have been overwhelmed with feelings of loneliness and crabiness or feeling like I'm a total failure and have no impact on my world while doing the dishes or taking care of laundry.

I feel like God has really met me on a deeper level in this past year even though I have hardly cracked open a Bible. And at the same time He has given me a real hunger for his word, to really dig in deep again (which I will hopefully do once this season does not involve too many very small people (and we're getting there)).

God is not restricted by my belief system and cannot be coaxed by my super holy lifestyle of daily Quiet Times. All He really wants is a relationship and I think I've finally grasped what that truly means (for me) in this past year.

And no, I was not successful in my attempt to rock Alana to sleep. My wonderful husband came to my rescue and got her down within minutes...

P.S. The Signature of Jesus - a highly recommended must - read as are all books by Brennan Manning.
(Just my humble opinion).





 

milestones

I've taken a bit of a break from blogging because LIFE just happens and it's hard to keep track of it all! I always have the best intentions to somehow conserve all those special memories (like journal or scrapbook or at least blog about them) for fear of losing them but then the next special memory happens. So I guess I just have to trust God to somehow help me remember those moments when I really need to...

Nonetheless, I do want to mention two special moments of the recent months:

Dylan turned six on February 18th. We had some friends over for breakfast and cake!

 Here are all the kids, with Dylan in the middle wearing his 'important clothes' (aka a necktie).

 And the strawberry cake with the 'six year old candle' (very important). I think Ayden was upset because he wanted to blow out the candle. He's passionate in all his emotions. 

Having a six year old feels so different somehow, a totally new season is coming. Dylan loves sports and being active, he loves being with people and loves reading and learning. He's usually a sweet older brother, very competitive and with a fun sense of humor. 

I'm proud of him and so grateful to be his mom! 

And then, in April, our Baby Girl turned one:

 Her first taste of chocolate cake - a big hit! 

 Bigger brother helping to unwrap a birthday gift from my parents - a doll!

 She loves it! And after three boys it has been quite sensational to see how much she loves dolls and is naturally drawn to them. 

I took this picture specifically for her godmother who unfortunately now resides in Senegal, much too far away from us...:( But these are the decorations she got for the first birthday of her little boy! They have been well used! :)

I cannot believe how quickly this first year with Alana has flown by. I remember counting each month with Dylan, chronicling all his 'firsts', documenting his growth and all the little things he learned to do. This year I just couldn't keep up.

I'm so thankful for this little person, full of life and curiosity and spunk. She delights us all in so many ways and I love her personality unfold more and more with each passing day.

words i love

There are a number of words I love in the English language. Sometimes it's the sound or the image that pops into my head when I hear said word, like 'cook' or 'dog' or 'exuberance'.

'Exuberance' is a beautiful word and the picutre I see is that of a puppy, gleefully, wildly charging across a green lawn, jumping, luring us to play, then happily settling down to chew on our shoe.

Checking a dictionary you come up with more beautiful images: joyful enthusiasm, overflowing with eager enjoyment or approval, superabundance, lavishness, luxuriance, vitality, zest, buoyancy. And the list goes on.

Exuberance has been on my mind these last few months. God has been showing me my lack of love for people, my self centeredness, my tendency to harbor grudges, hurt feelings and disappointments, letting them grow into bitterness, discontent and lack of love. And ultimately, where there is no love, there is hate. Which was a shocking revelation for me because who wants to say of herself that she actually hates others?

At the same time God has been showing me his exuberant love for me and the world. Yes, I do, in way, see God as that wildly ecstatic joyful puppy, tongue lolling, slobbering all over my shoe. But that's the way God loves us - freely, totally, superabundantly, luxuriantly, lavishly, full of vitality and zest, exuberantly, and overflowing with an eager enjoyment and approval of ME, of US!

How amazing. I am humbled to know that with all the grime and muck in my heart He still jumps around me, calling me to play, calling me to joy, just wanting to love on me.

And I am to love because He first loved me. Exuberantly. So that has been my calling for this year. Learn to love, exuberantly. Because you are loved exuberantly.

advent

Christmas has come and gone and we are already 1 1/2 months into the new year but I did want to share about last December. The month flew by (seems like each month does that these days) but I really really really enjoyed the Christmas season this year.

I always get into the Christmas mood early. It's such a beautiful season and celebration and when I think of Christmas I get all warm and fuzzy inside and so I think 24 days are much too short to savor the full goodness that is wrapped up in the word 'Christmas'.

o right after Elliot's birthday on November 10th I pull out the Christmas tree and spend the next few days decorating, blasting Christmas music through the house and making all the special treats that go along with it all.

I thought quite extensively about Christmas this year and why I love it so much (apart from the fact that Jesus chose to surrender to earthly restrictions for me) and I have come to the conclusion that a lot of it has to do with traditions. And traditions stir up memories and for me these are mostly happy ones, thus giving me that aforementioned warm and fuzzy feeling. So it's been important to me to create traditions for our family so that when the boys look back on these years they'll have warm and fuzzy feelings, too.

But more than that it's become important to me to stir in them an awareness that Christmas is so much more than presents (their top priority) and baking and eating cookies (comes right after presents). So last year we tried the Jesse Tree and I love the idea. But it was all a bit last minute and did not have the effect I was hoping for.

This year I stumbled across this Advent Chain from spelloutloud.com and it was perfect. Each morning we would recite Isaiah 9:6, read the verse on the chain link and then they got to eat their chocolate for the day (thanks to the advent calendars my mom sent).

It made Advent fun for the kids and special for me. Focusing on the One who sacrificed everything so that He could become my Good Sheperd, Savior, Friend, Wonderful Counsellor, Alpha and Omega,...helped me remember what Christmas is all about.

What a wonderful memory and what an awesome reality!

Reflections of my life

I am always utterly astounded at the immense amount of wisdom and knowledge that is available to me at the click of a button via the internet. I seriously have a hard time remembering how I did it prior to www. Now, whenever I need help figuring out how many cups is one stick of butter or want to take a tour of the Forbidden City or am curious about what Oregon looks like I google it. Need a pritable form that I don't want to design myself? I google it. If I'm looking for ideas on how to entertain my wild child (aka Ayden) while I do school with the big boys I google it. And within seconds (or minutes, depending on my internet connection) I know.

What I love the most is stumbling upon someone's personal blog. I love reading about other peoples' lives. I'll have no idea who they are but often, after browsing through their blog, it almost feels like I know them personally. And sometimes, if it's an especially good read, I'll return to it regularly and it begins to feel more and more like I am visiting with an old friend. I cannot count the times I have been encouraged and challenged by a stranger's story. Life here can be a bit lonely at times but then I'll read about someone else's struggles or joys or heartaches and it reminds me that I am not alone in what I might be struggling with. Or reminds me of countless blessings that I can be thankful for.

Yet, in spite of how much I love the internet, it also makes me sad to think that I feel closer to complete strangers than to those around me. Or that our mailbox stays empty for the most part because everyone resorts to e-cards and e-mails (including me). It's made it easier and harder to stay in touch.

When I think back on how much time I spent writing letters and the joy that the process of using a pen and moving my hands to put words on paper gave me I regret that progress and convenience has taken all that from me. Knowing that a friend was eagerly anticipating a letter from me, taking time to read it and savor it and then responding in the same fashion - so much more intense and intentional, it seems, than clicking away on a keyboard staring at a computer screen.

So as this year draws to a close and I reflect on all I have experienced this year and the whirlwind pace at which things have happened, I want to add more moments of peace and quietness and reflection to my life. But instead of spending those rare quiet moments in front of my computer screen reading about a stranger's life, I want to be writing letters. On paper. To real people that I actually know personally. I want to refocus on relationships I have in real life, no matter how many oceans away these friends may now be. I want to be using my address book again and updating it and want to plan ahead so that real birthday cards will reach the right mailbox in ample time. At least that's the plan for now. We'll see what I say at the end of next year.

more pictures

He was soooo excited about this gift!

The whole gang at breakfast

We had pancakes - his favorite!

happy birthday elliot!

Typical Elliot smile

All dressed up for action on a recent rainy day

Taking Alana for a ride

Little watermelon plants

Being silly

My little man turned 4 in November! It has been such fun to see his personality blossom in the past year. He has learned to be more assertive ('I'm talking right now, Dylan, and you keep interrupting!') - very much needed with his super - talker, active older brother and has turned into quite a talker himself.

I have tended to kind of put the two of them (Dylan and Elliot that is) into the same pot, treating them more or less the same and expecting the same from both of them. This year has been a time of learning for me, too, and I've been reminded that every child (even mine) is different and unique and I have deliberately kept an eye out for that uniqueness in Elliot this past year. And I love what I have discovered.

Although gifted with stubborness just like every other member of this family, he has a sweet and caring heart and is the most likely to be found playing with Alana or wrestling with Ayden. He is artistic. loves taking pictures and is extremely observant of all that is happening around him as well as of details in pictures. He enjoys music and singing and books and has a knack for words, has picked up reading faster than Dylan and likes using scissors and glue.

Elliot loves our pets and helps me feed them and take care of them. He is also the first to volunteer to help me when it comes to baking and gardening. His latest project was planting some water melon seeds and I am so thrilled at how well they are growing.

Most of all he loves to make us laugh, has a great sense of humor and enjoys clowning around.

I love how he watches out for his siblings, love his tender and sensitive heart (that I tend to overlook at times) and love that he is part of our family!

Happy birthday, Elliot! I love you and am so proud to be your mom!

happy half - birthday, alana

I can't believe our little girl is 61/2 months old already! It blows my mind to see how much they grow and change in just 6 months from a tiny newborn - so dependent on you and vulnerable - to this little bundle of personality and energy who can sit and crawl and lifts your spirits with her exuberant, glowing smile!

Having all boys was fun and special but adding this little girl to our family has been amazing and I thank God for giving us a daughter and sister! I love how much the boys adore her and dote on her and am so blessed to have her in my life!