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.