#2014 Word

Time for the annual reflective New Year's post, which I have been writing in my head for about 3 weeks.

If you know me, you know my theory on resolutions. They're REALLY great if you have a disciplined life/personality and want to make changes.

And I generally pick a "focus verse" or a "thought" or a "word" that I focus on. And in reality, that word/thought/verse does keep coming back to me and kicking my butt for lack of focus (again). Though I do plan on doing my verse/word for the year (read on)...

But here are things I want to be/do:

I want to do good.
I want to encourage people all along the way.
I want to keep sending snail mail (even though the costs keep getting higher).
I want to call my Grammy more. She always loves it when I call her.
I want to influence my kids. In the best way...I want to be someone that I want to rub off on them.
I want to laugh. A lot.
I want to remember that everyone is fighting a battle. And it likely looks *nothing* like mine.
I want to hold hands with the hubs.
I want to keep better in touch with my true friends. The ones who love me always, no matter what.
I want to be more spontaneous (and in turn, be more flexible when my family wants to be spontaneous).
I want to make someone smile.
I want to help someone who is walking a much harder road than I am.
I want to make memories with my kidlets. Good ones. Fun ones. Cheap ones. ;-)
I want to...ulitmately...find joy in all moments: the good, the bad, the ugly.

My truth? Balance likely won't come this year. Not with 2 youngins, a stinky dog, a hubs with 2.5 jobs, a part-time job in ministry, homeschooling, taking care of ailing in-laws, and living far enough away from family to have any extra support. BUT - I can work at being the person I want to be, even if all my items don't get crossed off my to-do list at the end of each day.

Ann Voskamp, in her book One Thousand Gifts (which I am, like, 2 years behind in reading), has given me my word for the year: eucharisteo. You should totally read the book, but the essence of this word is that in grace ("charis") thanksgiving ("eucharisteo") brings joy ("chara").

In grace, thanksgiving brings joy.

So...the last thing on my list is that I want to keep writing down all these little tiny glimpses of God's glory in my life. And through the recording of my thanksgiving, joy will come bursting through.

And if I can keep being thankful...this year will not be in waste.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 (NKJV)
"Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."

Cheers to #2014.

Christmas Thoughts

I know all 7 of you who read this {Hi, Marmi!} will appreciate the link to my favorite Christmas post from last year, My Grown-Up Christmas List. I have so many things I'd like to add to this list, but this year...my wishes are kinda...just thoughts. Thoughts I will share with you.

Christmas is just...not what it's supposed to be anymore.

This present-clad, rush-rush-rush, ca-chinging Santa, naughty list-ed DAY. It's not what it's supposed to be {in my humble opinion}.

I'm not hating on Santa (we believe in him here, but don't push the issue). Though I'm not a gift-giver by nature, I'm not even hating on that...just...the sheer amount of them {and the expectation thereof as well}.

We've toned down Christmas at our house. A lot. And by Christmas, I mean what I've described above.

There were discussions. There were parameters. There was a short list made and time spent purchasing the few items we decided we would get, and that's it.

Photo by Rockwell Photo Indy

Instead, we're focusing on memories & traditions.

Hot chocolate has been perfected and consumed.
Christmas movies have been watched & discussed.
Lots of conversations have been had about what Christmas is really about.
Crafts have been made and given away.
Christmas treats are on the list of things to do when we're done with school tomorrow.
Ornaments have been created and added to our tree.
Christmas songs have been listened to and sung. {Miss R is a pro at several of them...cute.}
Truth in the Tinsel has been...not done regularly, but done enough that we get the idea. Good stuff.

Many hours have been driven looking at Christmas lights...how else can you captivate a grumpy toddler on a cold night after being stuck inside all day. There are few things that delight my kidlets and I like Christmas lights. Much like fireworks, the beauty of the light standing out in the dark dark night...just...gives me hope. And reminds me in a very visual way what Jesus looks like. And what hope looks like. It looks like light in the dark.

And hope...that's what Christmas is really about. Which is why I've refrained from buying my son EVERYTHING he wants (and then some). I keep seeing things that he would enjoy. And I *want* to buy them so badly. Because we just don't really buy stuff often, and this is a treat for him. And because I love him and want to make him happy.

But...then I remember my childhood. So - many - memories. Treats made and consumed, Christmas lights gazed at, caroling with friends, lots of smiles and laughter over yumm-o food.  Christmas Eve praying, nativity story reading, and listening to good music with the fam. Going to Indiana each year @ Christmas and getting snow (usually), even if it was Christmas Eve midnight falling snow. Cousins and aunties and games and uncles and jokes and listening to my dad and his brothers guffawing about this and that. Grandpa Ken reading the Pony story {every single year, even when he didn't want to}. Cinnamon rolls and egg bake on Christmas morning with parents and sibs. Shopping in Bloomington the day after Christmas with Fazolis for lunch - always. And comparing who got the most bang for their buck when we got home.

THAT is what I remember about Christmas growing up. Memories. Experiences. Traditions. Hope.

And that's what I want to give to mine.

My Refuge

Even though I have about 12 different posts half-written...I gotta just share what's on my heart tonight.

1) I am so thankful to have been raised in my family. Adoption is this crazy beautiful mess. And I am so privileged to be hand-picked for my family. My parents lived for God's Word. And they took every opportunity (even discipline) to have us memorize those precious truths in our hearts. And watching my sweet Grammy...every. single. night. Soaking in God's words...reading and finding new things and making sure I knew that once I finish, read it again and again and again. And that God will continue to mold me through life. And that at 68, 74, and even 80, God is not done molding her.

All this to say - as I had some pretty hard "life" things slammed in my face today, my response was not of anxiety, even though these things tend to cause that. Instead, it was to take immediate refuge. Refuge in the One who holds my tomorrow....and the tomorrows of those I love.

This scripture came to mind immediately. Immediately. Which is why I've just been so thankful for the Word planted in early on in my life. {And also why I cherish my job - I have this awesome opportunity to plant those same words and truths into almost 100 hearts each week between the daycare and church kidlets...what a blessing!}

2) Refuge. Defined by Webster as a "condition of being safe or sheltered from pursuit, danger, or trouble;" "a place that provides safety or shelter." And more. But that's good. Because I have it. In the arms of my Creator...the One who gave His life for me. He's got this...so I don't have to. I must take refuge...knowing that He's my strength. And move on from day to day and even moment to moment as needed..

3) Randomly, extra thankful for the Piano Guys and their amazing Pandora station. Need your heart to find calm? Listen. Read the Word...and listen this music...Best.Stuff.Ever. Seriously. It also helps me focus, which may or may not be completely unrelated.

Though I don't do this often, I do request your prayer during this time. Without giving too many details, our family is just going through some dark days, but my hope is in Christ alone and the beautiful gift of eternal life.

Adoption: What NOT to say

This post was inspired by this post. So you'll have to read there first. {Soooo good, BTW.}

And please...don't mind me, but I'll be sharing some of my favorite shots of my kidlets while I ramble about adoption a bit.

A fire has been ignited in my soul over the past few weeks over this "thing" called adoption. And between a conversation I had just today and the post above, I am ready to say a few things.

What NOT to say to an adoptive momma:

{My favorite} Can't you have kids of your own?

Numero Uno - that's nonya. Nonya business. And to answer your question, we'd love to have biological children and are still young. Who knows what our family will look like when God's done with it.

Numero Dos - DON'T say this in front of MY OWN children. I don't care that they didn't grow in my belly, they are MINE. They have been from the moment I heard of them...and really have been before that, but that's another blog post. I do not, for one moment want them to think they aren't mine. And when you say that, they think it. I've already had one very confusing conversation with my sweet, curious 7 year old about what that means and why was that said and does that mean I'm not yours and will I have a different mom and daddy one day...Seriously, people. He doesn't need that. He is mine. Until the day I die, he's mine. Don't negate that with an ignorant statement. (Sorry if that stings...that conversation with D stung me, and I'm pretty sure it stung him.)

I don't understand why people adopt. It costs so much money.

And a related one - I don't go around asking for donations when I birth a child. Why do people who adopt think they can do that?

Um...all I can really do is shake my head. -_- Adoption costs are far greater than having a birth child, barring any significant health issues or hospital stays. I'm not saying I agree or disagree with this; it is what it is. Not to mention that we are giving an orphan a home. An orphan. A home. {Don't even get me started on what it would take if all of us Jesus-lovers would just get involved in adoption...again - another post for another day.}

Side note: Our adoption(s) have been cost free because they've been through the foster system, but we're not done yet. We will eventually pursue private adoption and will also be in the "fundraising" state so many of my friends have gone through. And with foster care, you have sudden family changes out of nowhere and our friends and family have been amazingly supportive through all of that with providing basic needs and whatnot. I have never bought Miss R any clothes at a store. My sister literally hands down entire wardrobes for her (which I give back for her 5th future-adopted child).

Usually people adopt after they have birth children. You're doing it backwards.

Eh...depends on how you look at it. You don't know my story. And who would ever pass up the cutest kid in your classroom...to take home and literally be yours forever? Not me! One day, you could know my whole story, but for now, just take it at this: God has written our family (and will continue to do so). Mister & I always knew we would adopt. I'm adopted. I believe in adoption. But it's funny - when you open your heart to God's changing of your "plans," life always turns out way better in the end. True story.

And last, but not least - I just couldn't do what you're doing. I just couldn't.

Welp...if you're a parent and you say that to me, then you are. I'm raising 2 kids. Who cares if they share blood and DNA? They're kidlets. They're crazy and draining. They're loving and snuggley. They're totally hilarious, and to be honest...some days, they're the reason I get out of bed. But they're no different from your kids. And they don't deserve love, family, and a home any less than your biological children do.

Sure, adoption can get hard & be messy. It's not the easiest road to take (for sure!). And everyone's not called to adopt - I truly believe that. But everyone (that loves Jesus) is called to care for orphans. And there are a million ways to do that. Again...a post for another day.

Part 2 is coming: Foster Care Edition. I know you're all anxious to hear my honest thoughts on what not to say to foster parents.

Blessings, y'all. We're all in this together. We need each other.

Two years ago...

Though by date, it hasn't been quite two years yet, today was the day.

This particular Thursday...the day of Farm Progress (a huge deal in our parts). I was walking side-by-side with the Mister on our way in to a H-O-T day of food prep at the Farm Progress. You have to walk a good mile just to get in, and then there's exhibit after exhibit of farm-y stuff before you can find the D1Naz food tent.

Half-way through our trek through the parking lot, my cell phone rang. The caller-id told me it was our case worker for Dillon. His adoption was not final at this time, so we were always waiting for good news regarding that. I answer with hesitation, hope, and a question or two already forming in my mind.

"Everything's fine with Dillon," she starts the call. "There's a baby."
Me: "A baby?"
Her: "Yup. Birth sibling."
Me: "Birth sibling? Oh my goodness."
Her: "You're the first call, and I hate to do this, but I need an answer fast."
Me (now crying, blubbering, and trying to let Mister know what's going on on the other side of the line): "Yes...yes yes yes. We will never turn away birth siblings." (This is something we had discussed prior and already knew our answer. That makes it easier for sure when this emotional time comes around.)

Then the flood of questions: "Is it a boy or girl? When was he/she born? Is he/she healthy? Can I see him/her in the hospital? When will he/she be in my arms? How will I get ready for a baby this fast? WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?!?!?!" {Thankfully, our case worker is amazingly calm and doesn't panic at the rate I do.}

Her: "We don't know anything. Literally. Just need an answer, and I'll text you things as I know them."

And so we went about our merry way, working the hot Farm Progress Show. I told a few close friends because I felt like I was going to burst. What was I going to do? A baby?! A newborn? Straight out of the hospital? And a birth sibling to our amazing little {at the time} 5 year old.

We had her a mere 50 hours later. It was a girl. And she was given my name {bizarre}. And she was born on my Daddy's birthday {bizarre}. And she weighed 7'7'' (my favorite # - bizarre}.

And we called her Ruby, after my maternal grandmother {who I never had the priveledge of knowing, outside of Marmi's memories}. And Dillon wanted to call her Gracie, so that is her middle name. One day, there will be official papers that say those things...until then...we know she's ours in the end {though it doesn't stop us from praying daily that this adoption moves a little faster}.

                 

And I can't believe it's been 2 years. 

She is wild & zany. She loves to laugh, and she loves any form of mischief. She now understands {fully} how to push her brother's buttons, and she annoys him on a daily basis.

She is our joy, our laughter around here. There is {quite literally} NEVER a dull moment with her around. She knows what she wants and wants it NOW. She is stubborn, and tends to have anger management issues {so early in life}.

She loves music and really loves to sing. If she sees anything that remotely reminds her of Elmo, she sings "La, la, la-la, La, la, la-la" at the TOP of her lungs and hopes others will sing along.

She is obsessed with Dora, Princesses {"pay-sayses"}, and Elmo. And she is enamored by all things animal. She loves to "read" books, and she is starting to use 2-3 word phrases and communicating better.

She is gorgeous. Those blue eyes and blonde hair...a story for another day, but an answer to my prayers. She is a hugger, and she loves deeply.

She loves THIS GUY more than anything. {And he reciprocates, as you can see in this picture.}

              

She's a Daddy's girl sometimes, and a Momma's girl others. And I'll take it.

And the only time she likes to snuggle is in the middle of the night when something has woken her out of her slumber. And again...I'll take it.

              

Gracie - a few days before your birthday, and a few more days before our "Gotcha Day," I'm celebrating that moment...the one where we first found out about you.

We are so blessed. How could we ask for more?

Grief

Funny thing about grief. How it comes in waves.

How one minute, you're giggling with your 7 year old over a silly book, and the next minute, you're fighting tears because of a memory.

A beautiful memory...a funny one...a sad one...or just in general remembering what a total goofball your Grampa was.

How do we cherish the moments we have with those we love? How do we make the most of our time?

Because, I tell ya what...tonight, I miss my Grampa Vic. And so I will therapeutically write...

Dear Gramps (he chuckled when I called him that):

I thought of you tonight while reading Big D a book about Jesus. It mentioned some of the questions we might have when we get to heaven...some silly ("Why did you make spiders have 8 legs and humans only 2?") and some serious ("I wonder if Grandma is doing well and if she's making friends in heaven."). And there it was - a flood of memories and emotion. {Try explaining that to my 7 year old.}

Sometimes my husband does a perfect impression of your laugh...you know the one...the belly laugh. And it makes me giggle and smile remembering you and all the things you laughed about. Some of it was honestly lost on me, and a piece of me wishes I would have asked about it.

Duck tape is all the rage in Kid's Ministry...that makes me think of you. Though you would NEVER have gone for checkered, dotted, or fire-laden ones, you certainly always had plenty of the old gray stuff. And you used it for everything from car repairs, clothing malfunctions, bruises, and my personal favorite: open wounds {smh -_-}.

For some reason, mashed potatoes reminds me of you. It's something Grandma would fix a lot when we were there, and it always grossed me out when you just piled all your food together and just...dug in. And you would chuckle at me, and say, "What? It's all going to the same place...them's gonna stick to your ribs."

If you saw how big D & Miss R are getting, I'm sure you would have some classics to say (that only you would say): "Where's the bricks? I need to put one on your head to keep you from growing." And that hug...more of a chokehold than an embrace...but at least we knew what to expect with you.

I'm so thankful for all the memories I have with you. Sometimes I wish I would have just grabbed a pair of cowboy boots that you offered (every.single.time. we came to visit). Who woulda known they'd be "in" again? Both my kids would LOVE to have a pair, and how fun would it be to have those stories to tell about your hoarding of all things...non-essential.

I miss you.

And I do you, too...

Enough

Ever feel like you're just...under attack? Maybe you have this big huge project to strive for...work for...plan for...and even execute. But your sights are unable to set on this said project because it appears/feels/seems like "life" is swirling all around you. It's confusing. It's sad. It's unsteady. It's hard. It's messy. And most of all, it's unknown.

This is where I am tonight. VBS is just ahead (a huge project that I love and am passionate about...also part of my job description, as far as I know). It starts a mere few days away. And this week, I've been plugging away at all the tasks at hand (though there are still a million to do). But my focus...it's not there.

My focus is on me. Health issues, concerns, problems, pain, issues, and about 300 unanswered questions.

Yet tonight...I was able to stand on Holy Ground...A random series of events led our church to have an "impromptu" worship gathering tonight...a hundred or so of my family gathered in the presence of Jesus and sang praises. There's something about the corporate worship setting that gives me clarity like nothing else. Maybe it's my music roots...the effect of music on my soul...but clarity was found tonight.

The first song sung was "Blessed Be Your Name." A beautiful, slow, acoustic version. And to be honest, it's not one of my favorite songs. I mean...I love it. I love how scripture is just straight up sung in the song. I guess I just mean that it's not necessarily one of my "go to" worship songs right now.

And then this part came: "Blessed be your name when the road's marked with suffering, though there's pain in the offering, blessed be your name." And I had to stop singing. Did I mean it? Do I really want to bless His name when I don't know what He's doing...when I don't know what the future holds? When I don't know if my hopes and dreams are about to be shattered around me?

And then this part came: "Every blessing you pour out, I'll turn back to praise. When the darkness closes in, Lord, still I will say, "Blessed be the name of the Lord..." And my heart cried, "YES! I will bless your name. Because the one thing I know...is that You are good. Your plans for me are good." And I will...with tears filling my eyes...praise.YOUR.name.

And the follow up song? "Your Grace is Enough."

The lyrics that hit home: "Your grace is enough," "You use the weak to lead the strong," and then more of the "Your grace is enough" over and over.

I don't know what's going on. I don't understand the timing. I don't want to be devastated. But you know what? Sometimes this is just how it is.

Jesus, you are enough. Your grace is enough.

I open my hands, I give you all that's swirling around me.

And I will bless your name through it all...

"I don't know what You're doing, but I know who You are." {See below video for a great song by JJ Heller with these lyrics.}