Looking backwards

I hope you don’t mind indulging me as I back post. The last couple of months have been crazy with so many decisions, travel, and transitions that I sometimes forget what time zone we are in. That being said, it was hard to keep the blog updated. But, we have had a couple of significant moments in our family that I would love to share with you – albeit late.

Part of our transition from China included several weeks in Thailand for training, debriefing, rest and medical care. It was a much needed time that helped all of us. The reality of a season in the States began to sink in, we grieved leaving our Asian home, we rested and sought soul renewal after making so many large decisions and most importantly had some fun as a family.

A few of our highlights from our time in Thailand included fun, healing and faith.

As an early birthday gift Little Monkey and I spent a day, just the two of us, learning how to cook Thai food. When you have 6 kids, finding fun special things to do with them individually can be a challenge. I was so thankful to have the chance to make memories with my girl.

B learned to swim on his own!! We ditched his normal daily physical therapy for time in the pool everyday. I was amazed to see how the excerise in the water relieved his joint stiffness and increased his mobility, but the most fun part….once he was in the water, he was like all the other kids. He could move where he wanted to go and play the way he wanted to play. ON HIS OWN. Pretty huge deal for a kiddo who always needs to be pushed around in a wheelchair.

Above all, the day I will treasure most from our time in Thailand, was the afternoon Soccer Dude and Roo were baptized. After a season of studying the Old Testament in our homeschooling curriculum they were challenged to publicly declare their faith. (Homeschool win!) They chose to do that with the community of expats that meet up with us yearly in Thailand – their Asian family.

I was overwhelmed as Hubby read the age old litergy for our teenagers. I thought my heart would burst with joy as I thanked God for all that he has done for us in our salvation. What a treasure to share that gift with our children. Our friends gathered around them and prayed blessings over them and called them onward in their faith. It was so very special.

We have had the opportunity to visit Thailand many times during our ministry in Asia. I love, love the ocean. There is something about standing on the edge of the crashing mass of water that speaks to my soul. I am treasureing the memories from Thailand, holding on tight to them during this season of transition.

I ain’t gonna lie. This transition has been a hard one. We hated to leave our home in Asia. I hated to face the medical stuff that I knew was in our future. I hate finding my footing in a new place and season. It is hard work. One way I anchor myself through seasons like this (and we have faced them several times) is to dig deep in areas of faith, health and fun. I think it is so simple that I actually have fought it during past transitions.

So, this morning I am walking down memory lane. Remembering how space to encounter God in new ways, remembering faith decisions like baptism, exercise in a pool, and intentional fun with my kiddos ground me. What can that look like (practically) here and now in Michigan? I have been thinking about that a lot as I unpack suitcases and settle in. Our time in Thailand to unplug and seek God was such a gift that renewed my soul – I need that on a regular basis. There is something about extended time away with family and Jesus – you know? I need more than 30 minutes with my Bible in the mornings. But how? How can I get more when normal busy life is happening and chaos is the word that describes my life?

Thinking and praying a lot about silence, solitude, prayer, retreat, a healthy lifestyle, and good fun. I can let life take me along – or I can be intentional. I am learning that the simple choices make a big difference for our hearts. I wish I had a punch list of my goals toward soul health and how to achieve them. It just isn’t that simple for me.

I am taking it one thing at a time as God brings something to mind. Texted a college friend, who I love and admire deeply, to ask her to join me in a retreat weekend sometime in the near future. I have a couple of books picked out that I am planning on reading. I have carved out a “hiding place” in our new home where I can take time to pray. I am back into my exercise routine and we have re-established our Friday pizza, game and movie nights. Nothing super impressive. I am not going to set the world on fire as a result of these small moves – but I won’t get stuck. That is enough of a goal for now.

What choices do you make to keep your soul healthy?

We packed up our lives….again.

It really takes time for me to sit and count how many times I have packed up for a move over the past 20 years. God has taken us to Ohio, Peru, Michigan, China, Kentucky, Florida, back to Asia – and now we pack again.

Some of these moves were planned and hoped for. Some unexpected. Each of them have grown us in ways that amaze me as I look back on this journey God has taken us on as we seek to serve Him. That gives me faith as we step out again.

One of the things I have packed and unpacked, moving it across oceans and through all of these States – sage green towels. Towels that were given to Bryan and I as wedding gifts by Linda Mullins, a friend at Brice UMC. Funny what you remember. I actually laughed out loud as I looked in the hall closet of our apartment in Asia. I was trying to decide what would go in the suitcases that we would take with us to the States. Those towels have been trusted friends. I must admit they are a bit frayed on the edges now. They didn’t make the cut. It is time for new towels and time to embrace a new season.

B and Little Man both need some medical care that we were unable to get in our city in Asia, so we knew that God was steering us toward an extended time in the States to seek healing.

Bryan has accepted a position as a campus pastor in Michigan. The church is a little over an hour from my family and is a mile from a university. He is excited by this new opportunity and for the chance to love and lead folks in our new community. He also is excited to continue our connection in Asia through our sending organization. He has been asked to travel a couple times a year to help with leadership training and curriculum developement. Equipping the next generation of church leaders in regions of the world that don’t have the resources we do in the west is a constant passion. We are excited to see where both of these ministry opportunities will take us throught this next season.

For me – I kinda feel like that frayed towel. It has been a crazy few years (or maybe it is jetlag talking!) I am looking forward to some time to help our kids get healthy, homeschooling with some extra resources, launching our eldest to university (craziness!) and seeing where God leads from there. Keep posted. I am sure God has some fun things up his sleeve for all of us. We will have stories to share and we would love for you to continue to join us in the journey.

Can I love them the same?

8 years ago I was sitting in a hotel room in a Chinese province far away from where we live. I thought the knock on our door would never come. We were waiting to meet our new daughter. It was our first adoption. Looking back, I now know how clueless I was.

One of my biggest fears as I waited to meet the three year who would become our daughter – could I love her the same?

I get asked this question a lot – by people who are considering adoption, by my neighbors who can’t quite believe that I could love my kids who came to me through paperwork equally as I do my biological kiddos. I am able to answer that question with confidence now, but as I waited in that hotel room….to be honest, I wasn’t sure.

The knock on the door came mid-morning just like they told us it would. A man and several women entered….maybe orphanage workers. A lot of the moment is a blur. I am not really sure who all the adults were that accompanied a scared, tiny three year old. I only had eyes for her.

I would have recognized her anywhere, probably because I had been staring at her photo for months and months as we slogged our way through mounds of adoption documents. I had so many expectations that I didn’t even realize for this first adoption. Expectations for that moment and for her – they all flew out the window.

She was scared. Hardly moved as she was set down on the floor. It wasn’t love at first sight. We weren’t happily and loviningly embracing as she called me momma. But I knew – a new love. I knew that I would do anything to protect the tiny wisp of a child that stood before me shaking. Protectiveness, compassion, anger at all she had been through leading up to that moment, urgency to help her – love. It wasn’t the precious bonding moment at birth when they placed my newborn son on my chest. This was so very different but the same.

It has been 8 years since that first meeting. It is almost impossible to see the tiny, scared child in the quiet, strong 11 year old who sits at my dinner table tonight. She chose take-out and a movie night as a way for our family to spend time together remembering the day she entered our lives.

It is hard for me to see the mother I was then – my journey has been significant. I have transformed from a mom who wasn’t sure if I could love a child of a different mother equally as my biological children to a woman who see my own adoption in Christ more fully. I now understand love, grace, new beginnings, and healing like I never would have without my adopted children. They are examples to me. I am bound to their stories and lives in a way that I can only describe as miraculous.

One of our favorite Christmas movies is “The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.” You know the part of the movie when the Grinch realizes that the Whos of Whoville still celebrate Christmas even without the gifts, food, bows, whistles and horns? His heart grows 3 times larger.

That is my heart. Before adoption my heart was small. After adoption – my heart has grown so much that it pops out of it’s box.

The answer to the question I asked myself 8 year ago – could I love an adopted child the same as my bio kids? Yes! The question I didn’t know to ask – would I love the same after my life had been turned upside down by these little people? No. I will never love the same because adoption has grown my heart not just my family.

To not belong

We have arrived at our Asian home and recovered from jetlag enough for a celebration to suit our boy who turned 8.

He is all about dinosaurs- so a trip to the small science museum was just the ticket. We are so thankful and blessed to have good friends, who are really like family, to celebrate with. I watched our sons running from one station to the next enjoying each one, and it made me sigh with such deep contentment. As hard as it is to say goodbye to family and the home of my birth – it is also hard to explain fully how good it feels to return to our other home and to embrace our friends and loved ones here. Sometimes, it can make me feel like I have dual banjos playing in my heart. To call two places home. To have so many loved ones I call family. To cry when I leave and cry when I stay.

My kids really amaze me. They seem to embrace both sides of their lives with ease and grace. Moe and Little Man both totally believe they can not speak Chinese – and if they are around Americans or Europeans they don’t. But the Chinese lady that comes to our home every week to hang out with our kids while I teach – well, they have full conversations with her too. She doesn’t speak English. They say thank you in Chinese to the vendor on our street corner and answer the questions from our neighbors. Flipping between the two languages comes so naturally that they are not even aware that they are doing it.

These two worlds that they flip between – they belong and they don’t. I have white kids who have lived most of their formative years in Asia and Asian kids who think white because of their parents and family culture. I could write a whole book about that in itself. But today what I am pondering…how my third culture kids teach me to embrace life and call no where home.

Want to watch my kids squirm….ask them where they are from. They know you would expect them to claim a city in America, maybe one of the rural communities their parents identify with, but I can assure you what flashes into their minds are beds in a small apartment in a city of more than a million people. But is that home? Can we call it home when we have to get a visa to stay and our passport is from a different country? Not really. We are keenly aware that this also is not home.

The more I strive to live life well, to be righteous and to lean into who God has made me, I am learning that “homelessness” should be my goal. I belong no where. It is hard to type those words and even harder to wrap my heart and mind around the truth that God sets out for all believers. We are not of this world. Heaven is home. A place I have never seen and a place I can not comprehend.

I want to let go of the things that tie me down and pull me away from having a heavenly mentality. Desires. Comforts. Culture. Thoughts. Expectations.

I heard a sermon in college by Dr. Kinlaw that still bounces around in my soul. He said, “Your eternity can start now.”

I have been letting that sink in for the past 20 years and yet I still uncover ways that I should lean into it more. I want to embrace my God given gift of eternity…now. I don’t want to belong to this world. I want to live fully in righteousness my heart turned towards heaven. Lord Jesus make it so.

Intentional

A weekend away is just what the doctor ordered before the crazy hits. The countdown is on. We fly across the ocean in five days.

We have done this routine many times, but it still catches me off guard. Thinking through what a family will need until the next time we are in the States, packing, weighing, and repacking suitcases to exactly 50 lbs, checking lists, packing up the house we have been staying in the past five and a half months, saying goodbyes and squeezing in as much American food as possible before we leave – well, it is intense.

This time we intentionally started the work early and planned a weekend off before the final push towards being ready to go. Deep woods camping with no internet or cell coverage was such a great break. I needed the time to set aside my lists and focus on the kids. I can’t say that I was totally successful – it is a hard discipline for me to set aside a large job and be present. I tried.

Fishing and playing in a freezing cold river was the highlight of the weekend for some of the kids while others felt that the highlight was playing games and the campfire. Who doesn’t love gathering sticks and throwing them in the fire pit? We swam in a lake and watched the loons. We embraced life with a wheelchair and experimented with short hikes and enjoying nature as we drove trails.

I hate that while I was trying to focus on marshmallows on sticks my mind would wander to the suitcases waiting in our living room. For me, the struggle is real. I know I need rest. I know my family needs the break and the fun – but the story that rolls around in my head can have a desperate tune.

“If you don’t keep at it, then the job won’t get done. There isn’t time to rest. You are too busy for sabbath.” I am fighting hard against these lies. The truth is, I might not have everything wrapped up as cleanly because we went camping in the midst of our craziest week of the year. But play, rest and time to seek God in the midst of the storm is always worth it. That is the truth I am leaning into. I need to set things aside and seek God. I need a break from the demands of life. God created me for rest, fun and relationship.

My goal for the coming year – to be intentional about rest, fun and sabbath so that my relationship with Jesus will be fuller. The camping trip is just the beginning.

Next time I write will be from the other side of the world. I would appreciate your prayers as we prepare and travel, but more than that would, you pray for my soul as I lean into the discipline of sabbath? What have you found that helps you to seek Father in new ways? How do you practice sabbath in the midst of your crazy?

6 years

6 years. That is how long we have had Little Man in our lives. I can honestly say that my life would be less blessed and would lack laughter, adventure, and flare if I had not been gifted this child to parent.

Recently and totally out of the blue he told me, “Good thing you named me Isaac (meaning laughter. I didn’t know he knew that.) because I am hilarious.”

I really could write a book with just his quotes, antics, and jokes. But, then again I really might not be able to capture in words how he makes me laugh so hard my sides hurt. He is funny in a way that catches you off guard. Like today when we were praying for his older brother who is getting a tooth pulled. Ouch. Little Man with all seriousness says, “Well at least he will get money for the pain.” Nudging me in the ribs, he then said, “If the tooth fairy remembers to give him a little something for it.” A knowing look shot my way with a “get it done, mom” thrown in for good measure. Hilarious!

I think back to the days before this funny kid. We were in seminary and didn’t have two pennies to rub together. For sure not the time to jump into an adoption. I had a vivid dream two years earlier that God would give us an Isaac – when I saw his photo on a waiting list the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I knew I had seen our Isaac for the first time.  Timing was irrelevant.  Our son was waiting.

Today as I hugged him a bit tighter remembering the moment they placed him in our arms for the first time – I wanted to weep over what I could have missed. What if we hadn’t stepped out in faith to bring him home? What if we had said we don’t have the money.  This isn’t the right time.  I would probably eat fewer noodles, there wouldn’t be as many messes around my house, and things for sure would be quieter.

But this boy – this boy who flings his arms wide open as he runs – this boy who laughs with his mouth wide open – this boy who buries his face in the food he loves – he has taught me to love and laugh in ways I never would have learned without him. I am forever thankful. I would have missed so much.

81.5 million Americans have considered adoption. If just 1 in 500 of these adults adopted, every waiting child would have a permanent family. (From the Dave Thomas Foundation)

I could have been part of that statistic. For each of our adoptions – it really never felt like the right time. We never felt prepared enough to have another soul join our family. We always thought we needed more resources or finances. I am not sure what propelled us forward. God’s grace really is the only answer that makes any kind of scene.

In his grace he has gifted us with Little Man. On this anniversary of us becoming mom and son – I want to share how thankful I am that I didn’t miss out.

Pursued

I like to be seen as a strong one — able and all together. But, man, I have had some moments when I come to an edge of myself and wonder what will talk me back down.

I was having one of these moments last month as I was driving my girls to meet their Aunt. They had set up a girls weekend with their Aunt, who lives in another city, and we were going to meet halfway for her to pick up the girls.

I was running a bit late for the meetup — all the time wondering how I was late because I had felt ahead of things not 30 minutes before. You know the drill — we are all on time, but then one kid needed to use the bathroom. One kid couldn’t find his leg (a real life problem in our home). I was scrambling for the GPS directions on my phone and Roo had to run in for one more item, one more time.

On time had now turned to LATE.

Twenty minutes into our forty-five minute drive, I realized I did not have my cell phone. The phone with the GPS directions. The phone that gave me the ability to call my sister-in-law.

Seriously, all I could remember was that our meet up location was at some gas station on a country road in the middle of nowhere — but not past the river. If I made it to the river, I had gone too far.

So it was decision time. Turn around to get the phone and be even later? Drive and hope I find some random gas station through the woods — but not over the river?

I was getting hot. Panicking. Knowing I was going to be disappointing those around me. Late would be later. Late would be lost. Having it all together was coming unglued. You know what I mean?

I have the ability to tell myself all kinds of stories in my head. They can be filled with God’s truth or they can be laced with my own harsh expectations for myself. It is in these moments that I have a choice. That day I was starting to go down the path of not showing myself grace. Driving, fuming, wondering why this was the thing that was causing me to unravel. I’m struggling with all these thoughts while trying to find our meeting place.

My mind was whirling…

Wait. Is that a river I just crossed — or is that considered a creek in these parts? Have I gone too far? Do I turn around or keep going? We sure are in the middle of no where!

The five kids in the van with me were silent watching me come increasingly unglued as I kept driving without a cell phone — without GPS. For the love, why am I so dependent on a cell phone?!

Just when I was sure we had gone too far and missed the gas station, one came into view. A gas station with my husband sitting in the parking lot holding my phone.

He had pursued me.

He had realized I left without my phone and gambled on which way I would go. He decided to be late for the meeting that he had scheduled to ensure I would not end up upset and lost. We won’t mention how fast he had to drive to beat me there!

When I saw him, the tears started. The true narrative of my soul was brought back into focus. I am loved. I am pursued. I am protected. If my husband (who I admit isn’t perfect — just amazing) will do all of these things, how much more my Heavenly Father?

Why am I sharing this story with you? Actually, this post is more for me than you. I don’t want to forget that I am a pursued woman. One who is loved so deeply by God. When life feels out of control, I want this story to be the one that comes to my mind. These truths are what I want to quiet my soul when the world would blare the opposite.

Zephaniah 3:17 says, “The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.”

God’s love has saved me. It is a steadfast covenant that I can count on. His love never ends and is the message that I want to share with my life. But, you know what I need to claim most often? You know what message I need to repeat over and over? The thing I need to write on a note card and put in my pocket?

God’s love can quiet me and my Lord rejoices over me.

When I am late, missing the mark, unglued, disappointing everyone else. When life feels out of control with small things like forgetting my cell phone or with large things like cancer, politics and injustice…God is pursuing us with the goal of quieting our souls. We are pursued. Loved. Kept.

Repeat the story of God’s love in your head and heart. Sing it. Remember it. Live it.