Be Still and Know

We have this awesome new wheelchair van that gave us freedom. After being cooped up in our home since October (I won’t even mention the two weeks before that in the ICU at the hospital), February seemed like a new lease on life. We enjoyed going to church as a family and jumping into a homeschool co-op. We slowly started to get to know the community we find ourselves in for this season.

Then, Covid-19 hit, and we are homebound again. Quarantine life feels eerily familiar – except this time Hubby is stuck at home with us! A friend sent me a text asking how we were and joking that I should write a book on how to survive being stuck at home. I laughed but realized that I have had a good deal of practice over the course of the past 7 months.

A road trip for a scholarship competition at my Alma Mater with my eldest was a much needed reprieve during my stuck at home season this fall/winter. A dear friend from my college days, who still lives in the area, opened her home to me for the weekend. I played the role of supportive mom through the campus tours and waited outside the interview rooms during the day, but at night I sat on her couch with my feet curled up under me. There is nothing like picking up – face to face – with a true friend. We laughed, shared our hearts, and I felt the deep sigh of contentment that comes from somewhere inside me when a soul need is being met. “This is the true gift of community,” I thought as I fell asleep that first night in her home.

The next day, walking the grounds of the university, I felt this strange sense of coming home and yet being a stranger as I looked at everything through my son’s eyes. He was making new friends even in the few short hours that he had been staying in the dorm — while I was bumping into friends from days past who now like myself had grown up. They now held positions on campus, and I had a man-child by my side.

One very brief conversation brought the idea of community to mind again. A fellow mom, who shares my blessing of parenting a child that the world might label special needs, saw me. Really saw me. As we spent a moment getting to know each other again, words of encouragement flowed. There is nothing like finding someone who understands my life and will call it blessed rather than hard.

I want that type of community for my son. I joked with him that I would go back in time and do it all again. He was skeptical – thinking of the high tuition and all the papers that would need to be written. But I was thinking of the late night pizza in the dorm, weekend ministry trips, prayer partners, and the pranks that we pulled through the CPO. I loved the cafeteria and studying with my closest friends in the classrooms.

I was giving Asbury a lot of credit – and I do believe that space was a sacred gift in my life, but in the days since our visit, I have been thinking through the seasons of life when I have had community and the seasons when I have felt utter isolation. It might have more to do with me than with my choice of university or the season of life I find myself in.

This year, I have experienced both deep loneliness and immense fellowship to the extent of which both leave me in wonder. I don’t have the wisdom to write a book on how to survive such swings. For sure, I have learned some survival tricks that aid me in the desert times. I probably could write you a bullet list which may or may not be similar to the ones flying around the internet these days. In times of struggle, I have tried hard to follow lists of well meaning experts hoping to keep my faith and sanity in the midst of lonely times. I tried so hard and hold on tight waiting and hoping for the next long weekend with a friend.

In a particularly difficult season a few years back, I found myself in a new short-term home after some significant losses in my personal life. I was lonely, grieving, and fighting for my faith. I finally came to a point that I thought I was loosing the battle and I had to stop. This is where I thought I would loose all touch with God. I couldn’t hold on. Funny how my expectations can be so very wrong.

“Be Still and Know that I am God” Was the verse that flooded my bruised and lonely heart. That was the game changer for me.

In times that are hard and isolating, I am learning to lean into that truth. Be still. I pray that I can be still and hear his voice, have deeper community with him, and know him in new ways during each season. Just know Him. Call on His name and see what happens.

For me, that is when a new list seemed to appear. I am not sure I can explain it….but it seems the more I lean into knowing God, embracing stillness, and letting my heart cry out for survival in a hard season….that is when breakthrough happens. I can see the gift of nature around me that helps me to breath deeper and survive one moment. He helps me to weep harder to release emotion which helps me survive another. God brings the name of a friend to mind that I text. I can suddenly appreciate a card that came in a mail. I enjoy playing a game with my kiddo. I have energy to exercise, or I suddenly am introduced to a new worship song that makes my soul sing. By being still and simply knowing God, I can appreciate the gifts he has just for me to help me make it through today – one moment at a time. I am taking note of each of these. That is my true list.

I can be tempted to wish back for my college days when I lived in the dorm with my close friends. I think Soccer Dude was right to be skeptical about my desire to go back. Wishing for what I had never meets my needs for today. Stilling my mind, my wishes and expectations to focus on just knowing God….that is where the true gift of community thrives.

In this season we find our schedules open. There ins’t a soccer season, homeschool co-op, band concerts, or music lessons. Meetings at church are canceled, and we are not in the midst of planning a huge gathering for Easter. We can be still. What luxury. Will we lean into this time of being home? Can we be still and know God in new ways? With some tears of frustration, contemplation, and honesty with my own heart, I am trusting Jesus to show me how.

With God all things are possible

There have been some seasons of God’s blessing in our lives that have felt so overwhelming that it is like drinking water out of a firehose. I have never done it, but I am sure the force of the water as you try to gulp it down would be something. It might even knock you over. I feel knocked over and drenched by the volume of God’s blessing on our family.

We needed a wheelchair van. We knew that some time in the future it would be inevitable. I can’t lift a growing teenager forever – but we were still managing. Even though we were prepared for the reality some day, we were startled to have the surgeon tell us that B now could no longer ride in a regular vehicle. Even before they would release him home from the hospital after his surgery, we would need to make arrangements. The need was no longer in the future, but now and we weren’t prepared. We began looking for a new van – a bit overwhelming since we are experts at driving old vehicles and blessed to have been given our last needed vehicle.

We didn’t expect to be given a wheelchair van as well.

Some crazy generous people (we aren’t even sure who all contributed) gave us the funds needed to buy a wheelchair van. All the funds. Wheelchair vans are not cheap. We paid with cash that wasn’t ours. If that doesn’t knock you over and drench you in a little bit of holy awe I don’t know what will.

As I reflect on our years of ministry – one theme rises above all others. God has provided. Little Man reminded me that we have “had many miracles in our lifetime.” I loved listening to him list a few of them with his siblings joining in. There was the time a group of loving musicians gave us a heavy duty stroller that we needed for Little Man after one of his surgeries. We were given an 8 passenger vehicle when our family grew from 7 to 8. Just when we had the opportunity to spend time in Thailand, Hubby was hired to teach extra classes that covered the costs involved.

The kids also included provisions that were not monetary. The friends that have crossed our paths. Visas that were granted in the last hour as an entire camp meeting paused to pray for God’s favor in that matter. The child who lived with us for a season — he taught us that we did have the capacity to love and parent 5 and ultimately 6 children. Favor granted by government officials. Jobs. Adoptions. Housing. Travel. I giggled as my nine year old mentioned all the miracles in his lifetime, but was sobered as I realized how true his sweet and sincere statement had been. He ended the conversation by stating — “imagine all the miracles we would have on the list if we counted all of them from your lifetime!”

Thank you to everyone who gave so that we could buy the van we needed for Benjamin. Thanks be to God that he led us to step out in faith to adopt this awesome kid — and through the journey of parenting this crew, God continues to provide for all our needs. Living cross-culturally, adopting kids, having a large family…when people ask us how we do it I am tempted to say, “I don’t know.” But, what I mean….I’m not the one “doing” it. No way. God provides for us and has given us an awesome support network in all of you. People who are praying for us, believing in us, supporting us, giving to us. We need a village and God has placed us in one.

Could I add a small asterisk to this testimony? There are some seasons of God’s blessing on our lives that might not be described as water from a firehose. Can you picture a tap turned on when the water main is broken? Just a tiny trickle comes out as the pipe groans. Have you had a season in your life when you see the gushing blessing pouring out on others and you wonder if all dried up before it reached you and your need?

I have labored over this post, wording and rewording — wanting to give God glory for this amazing gift that He has given us. But I think the full glory He is due can only come by me honestly sharing. God answered our prayers for a van, but not all of our prayers are answered in an awesome way that automatically leads to a rejoicing party. Our prayers that B would gain strength by taking medication have not been answered in the way we had hoped. With a few tears I can say that God provides even in this. He is good even in this. I can trust him even with this.

When his blessings seems like a gushing firehose or when his blessings seems like a dry trickle — actually, we need to realize that His blessing is still there. I am learning that blessing can be defined by God’s presence and that doesn’t waiver based on my circumstances or how I feel. My heart learning to give God glory in the unexpected great and in the disappointing hard can be added to our list of miracles in my lifetime.

With God all things are possible.

My baby turns 18

18 years ago, Hubby and I were completely in awe over the new life that God entrusted into our care. I joke that Soccer Dude was perfect from the beginning – making his appearance on a Thursday night after I watched “Friends” and before the new episode of “ER” aired. His tiny perfection all of a sudden made me realize all that I lacked.

As we prepared to leave the hospital, I dug through my carefully packed suitcase looking for the long-sleeved undershirt I was sure had been on the list. I couldn’t find it. 18 years later and I can still feel my panic, thinking that I had failed to bring the layers he might need to keep him warm on the journey home.

Have I bundled him up warm enough? Should I hold his hand or let go? Have I taught him right from wrong? Should I push him harder or be more compassionate? I have asked myself endless questions on this journey of parenting over the years wondering if I am enough. Honestly, knowing that I am not enough.

I forgot to pack that onesie to bring him home from the hospital. I found out he could now roll over when he rolled off the bed and landed on his head on a concrete floor. I lost him at church once, and I almost let him drown when I wasn’t holding his hand next to the pool’s edge. I was sure he was going to die when he ate a huge, Peruvian bug. I think that was the same week that I left him on the floor with a stack of board books to rush the trash to the curb only to have the door slam and lock behind me. I was locked out. He was inside. I can laugh about that one now, but there have been so many more mistakes over the years that make me cry rather than laugh. Many I am too embarrassed to confess to you.

But grace and God.

If I could tell myself one thing 18 years ago as I bundled up my newborn for the car ride home, I would tell myself….”you aren’t God.” Break the news to my young self at the beginning. Maybe then, I would have done my best, and then put my efforts into trusting God with the outcomes.

I am not saying that I didn’t trust God at all. From an early age I put my trust in Jesus – but there are some areas of my life that are harder to leave in His capable hands. I like to give a good shot at being in control myself. I instinctively want to protect, teach, shape and guide my babies – as all parents should. My problems come when I feel the weight of each of those tasks solely on my shoulders. I forget to do what I am called to do, then let go, and trust God with the outcomes.

How? How, for the love of God, did Abraham climb Mount Moriah and offer his son, Isaac, on the altar? How did he saddle the donkey in preparation for the trip? How did he trust that God would provide the sacrifice just as he told Isaac that God would do? Abraham knelt his will and heart to God. That is a good parent. That is who I am striving to be. Daily I have to remind myself that Jesus is the one who has the final say and will provide everything that my son needs.

The absolute beauty of my baby turning 18 – I see how he is turning out. Now, I confess to being a very devoted and biased mother, but I think even others would testify to the fact that God has done a work in Soccer Dude’s heart. He is delightful, smart, compassionate, and doing his best to learn wisdom. He has a heart for the world and the desire to make it better. None of this is solely because of me. Dropping him on his head as an infant didn’t make him mean. Homeschooling him didn’t leave gaps in his knowledge, and carting him all over the globe hasn’t made him an awkward third culture kid. The missing long-sleeved onesie on that first car ride home did not scar him for life.

I don’t know if Soccer Dude will be with us for his next birthday. He is making plans to head off to university and live on campus. We are so proud of him as he dreams of his future, but sad to see him go. So this birthday, I bought his icecream cake with tears wondering how he will get cake next year, yet knowing that it really is time to let go.

It is a new season of parenting. I am sure I will struggle with worry. I’ll wonder if he is ok, if he is bundled up enough, and if he has all that he needs. But during this season I am going to try to remember that I am not God. He doesn’t need me. Ultimately, Jesus is the one that he needs.

Hopefully, I can remember the same with our youngest. It is a bit crazy to have a new kindergartner at the same time our oldest is headed to college. For me that is one of God’s gifts of grace. Poor soccer dude has had to teach me all the hard lessons on parenting. Maybe with Moe I can put them into practice and not be so hard on myself.

I lack the ability to shape my children into the awesome adults I hope they will become, but God can. He won’t drop them on their heads, won’t let them drown, or leave them out in the cold. Good stuff, right?! So I am letting go. Giving it over to the one who lacks nothing. I will worry less and pray more. I will try to slow down and enjoy the moments. I will lean into Jesus and learn the lessons that he has for my heart and trust that my relationship with Him will spill over as blessings onto my children.

I will let you know how I did with that task when Moe turns 18.

What God has done.

Six weeks ago I slept next to my son’s bed in the hospital listening to the machines that were helping him breathe. B has Spinal Muscular Atrophy (SMA) – a cousin disease to Muscular Dystrophy – that causes his muscles to slowly weaken. Scoliosis is an inevitable companion to SMA as the muscles in his back weaken and no longer can support the body. The surgeons placed a rod in B’s back to be the reinforcement and protection that his organs need. We are so thankful for this life-giving surgery (thankful for every minute of the six or so hours of surgery) that was able to enhance B’s quality of life.

It feels funny to say that I am thankful for something so gruesome. The surgery caused B immeasurable amounts of pain. His body was opened up and stretched out. That was just the beginning. Then he started the fight of recovery. He had to work at breathing on his own, emptying his body from the liquid that accumulated where it shouldn’t. He had to push hard to sit, to eat and regain daily functions. As two weeks in the hospital came to a close and we were putting things in place to bring him home, I was so frustrated to feel that we were in a worse position than before the surgery. Frustrated but thankful for the fight.

There are things that are worth fighting for, but that doesn’t make the fight easy. Somehow In my growing up years I missed that lesson in Sunday School. I had the misconception that if I was in the middle of God’s will then life should go….well, easy or smooth. I am not sure which word to use, but I am sure that this idea was in my heart. God has been slowly stripping me of that falsehood. I wish I were a fast learner. Might have saved me some pain or at least saved me from some painful wrestling with God over the years. Anyone know what I am talking about?

God calls us to a hard fight and equips us for the task – if we are willing.

When I meet a new nurse or group of physicians there is a comment that I often hear. “He is so lucky to have you.” Want to see me get angry fast – tell me that I am a saint for walking this journey of SMA. I did not choose this. In all honesty, if we had known B’s diagnosis before we felt led to adopt this amazing kid, I am sure I would not have had the guts to do what God was asking us to do.

I often remind myself that God was in all of this. How I fell in love with this child slowly over the years. How we got the phone call asking us to consider adding this child to our family, the one I said I would not leave behind if God made a way. How we had the paperwork for adoption all in place because we had just completed an adoption the year before. How God provided all of the money needed to complete the adoption. How mistakes in paperwork were fixed during a Chinese National Holiday. How the adoption was completed just days before the deadline that would have made our son unadoptable. Then, this teen entered our family and embraced us, our family ways and love. He has become a perfect part of us whom we love deeply. It truly all is a miracle of huge preportions. This story is a marker in my heart. I remember and it gives me courage for my fight today.

This month since surgery we are working at learning a new normal. I have learned how to set up the machine that helps B breathe through the night. We have learned how to use a lift to transfer our boy without hurting his back and we are seeking ways to help him gain weight and strength. We are hoping to find ways to help him get around more easily, are adjusting our expectations for the near future, and trusting in God’s provision. None of these steps have been easy for me. But is easy what I really want?

Don’t get me wrong, I would do the dance of hallelujah if B was healed today. I would love for him to have a “normal” life. To move freely and live without SMA. But through the hard I am learning things that I can not learn any other way – I am learning to lean.

I have never had to lean into Jesus like I am in this season. Feels funny to say that I am thankful for something that is so hard. I am. Let’s embrace difficult seasons, hard stuff and grief in a way that makes us more like Jesus. Don’t listen to the lies of despair, hopelessness, and doubt. Fight and remember what God has done.

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.

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.

A Few of My Favorite Things

Everywhere we go, I hear the same phrase. “I don’t know how you do it.” I am not superwoman, have no special powers and truly rely on grace. What I want to say when people ask how I do it – “If you only knew how often I feel like the wheels are coming off the cart.”

But as I reflect on the question – I actually believe there are a few of my favorite things that keep me sane in the midst of our chaotic but joy-filled lives. I want to share them with you, mostly because I wish I had stumbled into them earlier in life. I also hope that you might share with me some of the things that you do to keep sane. I am always looking for new ways to plug into God’s grace and peace.

Just so you know – I am using affiliate links for the Amazon links below. If you purchase using these links, I get a little kickback that supports this site. To learn more click here.

1. My Bible app – I started using Olive Tree Bible App a few years ago. Love it. It offers many different versions and has a “Read through the Bible in a year” plan that I use. I have found keeping track of my daily reading on my iPad keeps things easier. As I sit with my youngest kiddo(who doesn’t like falling asleep on his own) I tap a button and pick up right where I left off. Easy easy.

2. As important as daily reading – I find listening to good content also helps keep my heart on track. I recently came across the podcast “Justice and the Inner Life” Friends, it is so so very good. If you only have time to check out one thing on my favorites list…check out this. They add a new one every month, and as I anticipate the new content, I listen and re-listen to the others. That good.

3. Plexus – I started taking a probiotic, prebiotic, and some good vitamins about 8 months ago. Life changing. Really. My health, sleep, and energy have been so much better since I invested in taking these plant based, all natural, dietary supplements. I wish I had come around to the realization that I need help to keep healthy sooner. Thankful I found this stuff. Shoot me an email if you want more information. Plexus is running a promotion – enroll at a discount to get wholesale prices now until July 10th. I would love to help you get started if you are interested.

4. Essential oils are one of those things that I resisted. I thought they were a fad and I didn’t have time for that. Now I am not sure what I would do without a diffuser filled with lavender and cedar wood to help my weary travelers sleep at night, a roll on of peppermint in my purse for a headache, or a drop of peace and calming on my three year old who just needs a bit of calm. YoungLiving oils have become part of our days and I am better for it. Soon they will be available in China!

5. My mom bought me an instant pot a year ago. Wow. I love that I can prep meals so quickly and make staples like beans in 1/8 of the time. I love my instant pot so much I hand carried it on the plane to take to China with me. If that ain’t love I don’t know what else is.

6. Games – I am learning in order to do life well I need to find time for fun. Games are one of our favorite ways to accomplish this goal. Exploding Kittens, Ticket to Ride, Battle SheepQuick Cups, Set, and of course a few Chinese games are Williams family favorites. A good old fashioned game night helps us to laugh and reminds me how much I enjoy doing life with this crew.

7. Last but not least, connecting with nature is one of my most favorite ways to stay sane. It is amazing how 10 minutes sitting on a bench watching birds, a walk in the woods, or a half of a day at the beach can reset my soul. There is something about connecting with Creator God in his creation. I find this hard to do while living in a city of several million people surrounded by concrete. We squeeze as much outside time in while visiting the States, intentionally choose vacation spots where we are surrounded by God’s beauty, or stop for a breath to look at the stars.

Now I have shared a few of my favorites, I really would like to hear yours. This is the time of year I am packing for another year in Asia – and I could use advice. Help me out; leave a comment or shoot me an email and tell me your must haves. What helps you thrive? What would you pack in your bag? How do you intentionally spend your time in order to nurture your soul?