To Reese on her 8th Birthday...

Reese,
Its hard to believe it's already been a year since sitting down and writing this post.  7 was a magical year of new maturity, conversations, closeness, and challenge. 2nd grade was a breeding ground for growth and social learnings. This year especially I would say was one of the most enjoyable to be your mom.  No longer do you need me to help you pick out clothes (when I try you make sure it is known you can do it on your own:), get you a snack, tie your shoes.  The physical demand of being a young child's mom is lessening as each year passes with you. Yet a new level to the emotional and deeper spiritual journey has begun.
This year your deepened in your faith. Last year began a big year of talking about what God is doing in your life, the brokenness of the world, the savior that came to rescue us, how God is uniquely calling us to run to the hurting and the hungry, the sick and the orphaned. I can say that Kenya changed you. It put a God sized desire in your heart to be with the broken. Ever since our adoption, but maybe even more so, that trip, you are keenly aware of others feelings and needs. God urges your heart to pray, you are emotionally tied to Africa already in a way my heart only had hints of as a girl. Your faith is becoming your own and it is a joy to watch that grow.
This year you really flourished at school and bonded with your teacher. In a public school, in a liberal city, it was not a question for us you would remain at your school indefinitely. You, little light, are someone God wants to use to point others to him, to surprise people with your kindness and different way of thinking, and to challenge people to look to him. All year long you would talk with your teacher about your faith in different ways. What you are praying for, what you saw God do in Kenya, how He is a huge part of your life. The last day of school your teacher pulled you out and had lunch with just you in your classroom to pour into your life just a little more on your way out, and she told you how much she noticed your light shining. She wrote you a note to encourage you to keep shining, keep praying, keep sharing to others about Him, keep loving others well. It was one of the best moments I have seen for you in school. It was such an affirmation that you are a little arrow, like Psalm 127 says, ready to launch out and pierce the enemy for His good. I am so proud to be your mom. Your boldness and big heart inspire me to live on purpose.

This year you have developed in gymnastics. Something you love so much and you feel God's blessings as you do what he has gifted you to do. You are developing a community of girls that is precious. To see you circle up at the end of practice and share prayer requests and pray with your coach is amazing. To watch as you learn what hard work, persistence, perseverance and even how prayer can impact your abilities and results. I watch as you encourage others when they are having trouble to get something and as you pray through and seek help when you struggle with something. I continually remind you to anchor your identity in Him, you are not a Gymnast, you are a daughter of God who he has blessed with an amazing talent in gymnastics. It is a platform, not an identity. And it has been an amazing learning and growth opportunity for your relationships and character.
This year you have grown as a Big sister. You have released a little bit of the pressure to perform that you often default to and are growing into your own on learning how to mess up gracefully, ask forgiveness, talk with me about how to pray for transformation and strength in the midst of sin. You know you are not responsible to be everyone's example. You are just a girl that will mess up and seek Jesus like anyone else. But yet you are deeply moved when you hurt your siblings. You feel deeply as you have shared in the grief of your sister's story. Life's struggles with siblings are pointing you to your perfect Father and I pray you can see beyond your imperfect mom to see Him more clearly.
I have messed up over and over again with you. The amount of times I've said I am sorry for my sin to you does not even cover the countless times I've missed that opportunity. This year, it will continue. But I ask with the boldness in James 1:5 for God to give me wisdom, and to give it in abundance, on how to be your mom and steward the life in you I have been given to hold loosely for Him. My prayer goes back to that little arrow in Psalm 127 that will be released over and over again into different situations to pierce with kindness and with truth places where it is missing. This year will bring new challenges at school, with friends and influences mounting and the struggle of identity and self esteem on the horizon. I pray you are anchored in the one who made you, just how he wanted you, with a part to play in His huge story. My prayers are too much to list for you for this year, but know you are fiercely loved, known deeply, accepted fully, and prayed over frequently! I am honored God chose me to be your mom!

Oh Congo...

A few weeks ago I got to return to Congo to accompany a dear friend visiting her children she is in process of adopting. Due to the governmental halt on adoptions, she cannot bring them home, but wanted to meet the children she has been the parent of for a year now. I was honored to go alongside.

Heading to DR Congo this trip was completely different than the last. The last time I boarded that long flight I was filled with the nerves, excitement, fear and uncertainty of what was to come as we met our two treasures there. I spent 4 weeks in a convent turned hotel, staying put as much as possible while paperwork cleared, passports were printed, and we awaited the much coveted exit letter to leave the country.  The few times we did leave the convent, we were met with opposition in public, in one situation that only God orchestrated protection in because it went violent very quickly all around us. I had small hungry boys outside the 2 inch rolled down crack in my window making gestures of slicing my neck and reaching their small hands through the cracks trying to get in. Our driver was yelled at, hustled, and arrested and a stranger got in the driver seat of our car.  It is only through God's grace we made it out of there unscathed.
The month before this most recent trip to Congo a battle was raging in my mind. Fear vs. Trust in God's sovereignty, my mind trying to find the line between wisdom and recklessness, trying to figure out the vague boundary between not letting safety be an idol and using the wisdom God has given me. 

As we arrived in DRC that June 28 evening God gave me such a peace to be back in a country so sacred to our family. My fear was gone and my heart was flooded with love for a people and place so deeply interwoven into our home.  The next morning we woke up early to attend church with a friend. We wound down unpaved roads, through slum areas where people rode on bikes carrying chickens, motorcycles 3 men full, mothers walking their bundled up babies in the 78 degree weather.

Life in Congo is awe-inspiring. I saw a mother on the side of the road with her 4 children, younger than mine, trying to sell clothes and food to make an income for that day, men carrying 30-40 soda bottles on their head in hopes to sell, little girls carrying bundles of sticks tied around their head in fabric. I saw girls around the age of 5, 6, 7 on the streets alone caring for their younger siblings.  We made our way to the church and the sermon was on Ruth. Through our translator, I was moved to tears through the rich interpretation of Ruth's story.  Here was a pastor speaking to 150 Congolese people about leaving a life of safety, security and potentially trading that in for clinging to Jesus. Over 70% of people in Congo earn an average of 2-4$ a day. This pastor challenged these people not to turn away from Jesus because they are afraid he will ask them to give up something, but instead, to run to Jesus and cling to him no matter the costs. If it costs your job, your family, your financial security. Run to Jesus. Cling to Jesus the way Ruth clung to Naomi. He said sometimes this will mean we need to leave our familiar and venture out to the unfamiliar, serve the least of these, maybe even go to another country to take the good news of Christ.  Orpah made the safe choice, to leave Naomi and return to hopefully find a husband or prosperity without the 'burden' of her mother in law. However Ruth took a risk. He preached:

 Sometimes God calls us to do the uncomfortable, something that doesn't make sense, God pushes us out of our norm, out of our culture, and asks us to follow. Giving up control to our lives doesn't mean we lose freedom, we are set free. This takes humility, God raises up the humble. Ruth didn't ask questions or give conditions to her following. She merely said "Where you go, I will go, where you stay I will stay. Your people shall be my people and your God my God. Where you day I will die. May the Lord do so to me and more also if anything but death parts me from you." What a declaration of reckless faith. 

God used a Congolese pastor in the near slums of Kinshasa to remind me of how he has called me to live, how he called us to adopt, how he gives me far more than I ever "gave up" for him. The following week was a roller coaster of emotions in my heart, reflecting on meeting our kids almost 2 years ago now in this beautiful, tragic country of strength and struggle, hope and devastation. God blessed me in ways I cannot explain in words on a page of this trip. He poured healing and purpose into my heart, He laid out for me another step in my journey of what he has called me to in this amazing country. He put a new chapter in the story of our family and I am completely humbled he would use someone so small, messed up, selfish, and insignificant as me. I am also reminded of the beauty in the adventure of following God. If you would have told me how our story would have ended up 3.5 years ago when I filled out that application to adopt I would have laughed and thought, not me. 

God also allowed me in those 10 short days to enjoy a country in a way I couldn't when I was there before. Not only did I get to witness a new mom meeting on and loving on her two Congolese children and watch the bond of unconditional love begin, but I got a fresh look at my own story, a new heart for a country I had only 'wanted to get out of' the last time I was there. 

My challenge to you is to put your yes on the table. Put your "anything" out there for God to use. Pray to him, "God I will do anything you ask!" And see what he does when you surrender your everything. He will change how you spend your life, your money, your time. Holding our stuff close only keeps us trapped in the life of the predictable, the mundane. Live recklessly like Ruth, trust he is real and live like it. He sees us and he made us and he put you in the story he is writing for you. I guarantee he will move, he will call us out, he will use us, we will live in the freedom we were intended for. We, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us,  to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. Ephesians 3:18-21

Thank you Jesus for giving me a small part in your huge story. May I steward it well,

When grief rears its painfully beautiful head

The thing about grief is that in our brokenness Jesus is closer. That's the beauty in it. You never taste him so clearly as in the midst of grief. I think parenting a child who has been through trauma usually is what scares people away from adoption. What I'm learning from a book I've been reading is our western culture tries to avoid grief and suffering at all costs, not entering into situations that may bring about future grief or suffering. I'll admit this was one of my unknowns in adoption as well. But today reminded me that while grief is still ugly and painful, it brings about such beauty and glory too.
Grief seems to come in waves at our house. Today was the peak of one of those waves. John was working late so as any good mom was I loaded the kids in the car to head for the Chick-fil-A drive through. I had my iPhone on shuffle playing songs in the car. I had turned the volume down low to address my sweet two year old throwing books while in was driving. Unknown to me my phone shuffled to a song I played on repeat during crying spells in Congo. I rarely go to that playlist anymore. Sure enough something brought on a wave of memories and grief and wailing ensued from the backseat somewhere on the interstate. Usually these things happen at home and can be more easily with physical comfort and a sweet prayer time and talk. With hungry kids in the car it can be tough. So I finally made it to Chick-fil-A and pulled in a spot to get closer to my girl. I called her forward and hugged her and rubbed her back as she cried. I immediately prayed to myself something like "God. This is something I cannot handle. I am alone tonight feeding bathing and putting 4 kids to bed and once I get home it will be hard to devote all my attention to her for the time she needs for this. Please multiply my words, give me strength and wisdom and show me how to comfort her." I finished by praying to myself, then prayed over Maran out loud and when I looked up I noticed my sweet tender hearted Wheeler crying in the backseat. I mouthed to him if he was ok and what was wrong as Maran's head was nuzzled down. He motioned he was just sad because she was. We finally settled enough to make it through the drive through. Of course, only God orchestrated our food passer to be our sweet employee from Uganda adopted when she was 13. So we all waved and left with the food in two and as we pulled away again the crying began again, all the way home. Again I prayed, knowing all 4 kids would want to eat when they got home and knowing Maran still needed undivided attention. I wallowed in my inadequacy for a moment and then turned it back over in prayer. As I got home, I told Maran to wait for me in her bed as I got all the food laid out for the others. As I got to Reese's meal she decided she wanted to go upstairs with Maran instead. I got the boys fed and headed upstairs to find Reese sitting making Maran a rainbow loom necklace while Maran cried. Levi beat me to the side of Maran's bed and laid his head on her stomach while I patted her and talked to her. We finally made it through with talking and snuggles.  As we all came back down for Maran to eat her dinner, I realized something that brought me to tears. I pulled Reese and Wheeler aside and told them about my prayer in the car. I said " I trusted God would answer my prayer, he is always closest when dealing with the brokenhearted. But I thought he'd answer my prayer by giving me the right words to say and give me wisdom on how to comfort Maran. But instead, God used you Wheeler to cry with Maran when she felt alone in her sadness. God used you Reese to sit with Maran when I couldn't be there with her and cheer her up with a gift. God even used Levi to snuggle on Maran and comfort her. God didn't give me the right words or thing to do, he instead chose to use you guys. And you obeyed God when he nudged you to act. And that is what is beautiful even in the hard parts of our story. This is how God makes good stories out of brokenness. He pulled our family together in the most amazing of ways."

Reese proudly smiled and said "how did Wheeler crying help Maran?" We talked about Lazarus dying and how Martha needed words and truth from Jesus. But Jesus didn't speak to Mary because he knew what she needed in the midst of her grief. She just needed someone to cry with her and feel her sadness and carry her load with her. And that's what Jesus did. He wept right along with her. Just like Wheeler. Wheeler didn't have to care that his sister was upset. But he chose to take on her pain and feel it with her. And she noticed. Maran asked me later why he cried in the car and a light came into her eyes when I told her he was hurting for her.
After bedtime John got home and shared with me that his employee, the sweet Ugandan girl who passed us our food, sat down with him at a break and she shared her story with him. She is 17. Adopted from Uganda at age 13. And she has written a book already about her God sized story. What a beautiful blessing.
So yes grief is ugly. It is painful. It is something we would typically rather stay away from. But if I chose a life without entering into someone's grief I would miss out on how close Jesus can be in times like this. I hate it has to be Maran's grief. I would take it on in an instant. But my prayer for her is that Jesus becomes more real to her in these times. As I tell her frequently, I don't know when or if God will heal her heart this side of heaven, adoption is hard and it is not wrapped in a pretty bow of being a "lucky" child for getting out of a tough situation. Even the beautiful parts of adoption come out of loss and pain, and we are honored to walk this road together. Just as we named Maran after the aramaic word Maranatha that means "The Lord comes" or "the Lord is near", come near Jesus. 

I don't share this sacred story with you so you feel pity for my strong girl, but I share it to make God bigger. Jesus surprises me daily with how intimate he can be in the details of our trials and requests. And he shows up big when I surrender in dependence on him. I do not have the wisdom to parent 4 lives and point them perfectly to Christ, but I know in my weakness when I call out to Him he answers and reveals himself in ways beyond what I could ask or imagine. Thank you Jesus. 

A tale of two mothers

3 days and 30 years ago a little girl was born in Eastern Tennessee. She was born with hope and a promise of earthly opportunities and born into a family of 'enough' and one that loved the Lord and wanted the best for her. She would go on to graduate from a good high school and a great university and get married to an amazing man and one day bear a child. Around that time another little girl was born in a province of DR Congo. She was born to a mother who carried her against the odds. Born in the middle of war, violence and hunger. She was a survivor of utmost proportions. She went on to one day meet a man and bear a child herself. 

The first woman would carry that child full term, and birth a little girl in one of the best labor and delivery hospitals in the south, a 9lb blue eyes beauty with a head of hair, this mother experienced relatively no pain in childbirth, thankful to modern medicine, and went on to bear another child, this time, a boy. She loved her children very much and wanted the best for them, a life of opportunity, hope, adventure, but most of all love.

Back around the world, that other woman bore her child, a girl, one with skin the color of smooth chocolate and lush lips and a cute button nose. In that moment, in that birth, that was at best in a local hospital and even more likely in a shabby home in western Congo. She soon bore another child, this time a boy, with almond shaped brown eyes and soft brown skin. 

These mothers loved their children, they were full of hope and optimism at what their girl and boy's life could hold, maybe a life that would change the future, benefit others, meet a need, solve a problem. This boy and girl, both sets, were destined to be world changers.  They were born on opposite sides of the world to two women raised in completely different ways, but they were all loved. Loved beyond measure, loved without condition, loved with great sacrifice, loved in a way it seems like love enough would will that great things would come from these children. 

One mother today holds all of those four children in her arms; grateful, somber, amazed, feeling inadequate for the gift she has received. The other mother has empty arms today; she did not get roses or handmade flowers from those two beautiful children she birthed- I did. I got her handmade cards and her roses and her hugs. This world in all of its brokenness and beauty has gone through a tragedy and a gift at the same time and they have landed in my arms. 

The weight of this day does not pass from me.  I went to bed and woke up this morning with that woman from western Congo on my heart. I ached for her loss, I thanked God for her sacrifice and the way she loved her children well, and wanted every opportunity for them, just as I did mine. Our hearts are not that different I don't believe. Love just plays out differently some times. Painfully different at times. Beautifully and graciously different at times. Today I ache for the birth mom that gave me my mother's day treasure. I wish loss wasn't the way I came about such a great gift, but that is the heart of our story. Every great story is up against great odds and a great crisis, a battle of epic proportions. Victory in this situation is often vague and ambiguous.  There is no win-win. There is no sweeping the bad under the rug to only look at the good. Like the tapestry-maker knows, the underside is ugly, tattered looking, pieced together, looking like nothing beautiful can come out of this mess, but on top, the master weaver has woven a masterpiece. 

Today I am painfully and heavily aware of the loss that is on the other side of the world, in a poverty stricken area of DR Congo. I am praying especially today for such an amazing, strong Congolese woman that will ever be part of my heart, life and story. 

Speaking Truth over our kids

Journeying with children who have been through trauma has made me more aware of their need to be filled with truth to battle the feelings they feel.  But in honesty, it has just made me be more intentional with all of our kids to prepare them for the battle they will face in life.
This story starts several years ago and is quite random.  After seeing the movie "The Help", like many others, I was moved and shaken to the core of the issues that existed with race just a few decades ago.  But as powerful as that was, that is not what stuck out to me the most. The most impactful was how Abilene would speak over the child she nannied as she rocked her, "You is kind, you is smart, you is important". She was speaking truth into the heart of a little girl that would always struggle with adequacy, value, esteem. That little girl is all of us, and our children.
After seeing Bob Goff speak a few months ago this stirring in my soul was resurfaced.  He challenged us to speak over each other what we are becoming, call out what God is turning us into.
I was reading in John a few weeks ago and it hit me. I felt like God gave it to me. A reminder to intentionally speak truth over my kids, each day, each night, specific, intentional to that child, what they struggle with and who they are becoming.
John and I spent some time developing these truths. I spent time praying over and delving into their personalities and what the strengths and weaknesses of that personality are. I believe these are close to finished, (other than Levi's maybe, still learning what makes him tick and who God is making him). I pray these will be a powerful tool. We plan on posting these on the kids headboards of their bed and reading them over the kids each night, using them as we pray for that child, and reminding them of who God made them and who they are becoming. I pray these truths are arming them to fight the fight they have ahead of them. These will be something in a matter of weeks they have memorized and they can fall back on when they remember what we "taught" them and when they hit crisis of identity or struggle. I pray God uses these truths to grow in their hearts beyond just the words we say.

Reese



God made you kind, gentle, and generous. (Col 3:12, 1 Tim 6:17-19)
God sees Jesus' perfection covering your mistakes. (1 Peter 4:8)
You are enough because Jesus is enough. (2 Cor 12:9)
We can put our worries at God's feet. (1 Peter 5:7, Matt 6:25)
Prayer changes everything, including our hearts. (Matt 7:7, John 14:13-14)

Wheeler

God made you strong, caring and compassionate. (Col 3:12, Eph 4:32. Deut 31:6-8)
Joy isn't found in having, but giving. (Prov 11:24-25, Acts 20:35)
The Lord stands with you and gives you strength (2 Tim 4:17)
You are God's warrior. (judges 6:12, eph 6:11)
We are replenished as we fill up with Jesus and pour out to others.(2 Cor 9:6-11, Prov 11:24-25, Philippians 2:3-5)


Maran

God makes beauty from our brokenness. (Isaiah 61:3,
God made you servant-hearted, joy-filled and encouraging. (John 16:22, Phil 2:3-5, Gal 5:13, 1 Thes 5:11, Heb 3:13)
You are accepted, Jesus died to call you daughter. (1 Cor 6:19, Romans 5:8, John 6:37)
God is always working for our good. (Romans 8:28)
You are God's prized treasure and he will never abandon you. (Isaiah 54:10, Deut 7:6, Deut 31:6-8)

Levi

You are loved, cherished and accepted. (John 3:16, Is 54:10)
Be strong and courageous in the Lord. (Deut 31:6-8, Ps 27:1
You were made to be in God's story. (Matt 28:19-20, Eph 2:10)
God is bigger than our mistakes. (1 Peter 4:8)
God made you joyful, caring and unique. (Ps 139:13-14, Rom 15:13)

I pray you take time and pray over what truth God wants you to speak over your child. Maybe it's nightly, maybe it is changing as their circumstances change, maybe it is a way you want to call your child into who the Lord is making them to be. Join with me in this.

What truth does your child (or spouse, or friend) need to hear today?
Comment below for a chance to win these handmade dolls by my good friend Natalie who is raising money for their adoption!
(If you want to custom order a doll: hair color or style, fabric color, outfit, etc, email me and I will put you in contact with her to purchase one!)
In your comment also include a 1 or 2 for which doll you want! (1- doll on left, 2 doll on right)

Covered in Dust

So over a year and a half ago I heard Jen Hatmaker speak on the disciple process in the time of Jesus and for some reason it still sticks with me. I think about it at least weekly and have been processing it for quite some time. The freedom found here is unreal. Below is my paraphrased notes:
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"We price ourselves on the education of our children. Under the age of 6 we do not accept a child as a pupil. Above the age of six we stuff him like an ox" Josephus.

The stages of discipleship in the time of Jesus
Stage 1: Bet Sepra (house of the book)
This group was age 6-10 and included both boys and girls. They gave them a stone tablet at the beginning and put honey on it and let the children lick it off. This was a delicacy in this time. They would say "May the word of God be like honey on your lips"
The purpose of this phase was to memorize the Talmud (Genesis-Deuteronomy) Can you imagine a 6-10 year old memorizing hundreds of pages of the Bible?
After this phase, all girls were released to learn skills in the home, a percentage of boys that were not excelling would also be returned to learn their father's trade.

Stage 2 Bet Midrish (House of Learning)
This was the top tier boys age 10-14 who would continue to learn the Hebrew scriptures and learn higher level thinking skills in regards to the scriptures.
Jesus went through these stages of learning, Jesus was 12 in the temple practicing asking questions of the Rabbi and fleshing out the scriptures when his parents couldn't find him.
Rabbis were the most honored and revered people in society. They were traveling teachers who went all over.

Stage 3: Bet Talmud (House of the disciple)
Again the upper tier of the boys from previous stage. These 15 year olds and up would approach a rabbi and request to be his disciple and they would quiz the boy and decide if he could be trusted to carry out the Rabbi's ministry. Many were rejected again at this stage and sent home to learn the father's trade. If the boy was selected it was a huge honor and he would leave everything (family, fathers future business) to follow this Rabbi and learn everything he does.

*This puts a whole new spin on Jesus calling his disciples. He was the Rabbi. Yet he wasn't selecting the cream of the crop of boys who had been educated and passed all tiers of the discipleship training. He sought out the 'failures' and rejects of the process. These men he called were counted as unworthy so they had returned home to follow in their father's footsteps of fishing. Jesus gave these men an opportunity to study under the best rabbi and of course they would drop everything and follow.

Disciples would mimic every single word, rule and teaching of the rabbi they were following. The point was to be exactly like the rabbi that selected you, not evolve into your own teacher. They wanted their teaching to be preserved from generation to generation. Each Rabbi had a list of rules in regards to dress, speech, what you are allowed to eat, Sabbath rules, etc. This was called that Rabbi's "Yoke": the weight of his rules. Like an ox you had to attach yourself to that Rabbi's rules. Yet Jesus said Matt 11:28-30 'Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light'.

As Jesus and his disciples went on their way and came upon Mary and Martha in Luke 10, Mary sits at the feet of the Rabbi instead of helping prepare (skill of the home). This was considered a waste of time for women in that culture. They would have never had the opportunity to sit at the feet of the Rabbi because they were sent out of the program at age 10 to be home makers. Mary (the same Mary that would pour her inheritance of perfume on her Rabbi's feet) knew the weight of this honor, Martha was so busy plying her trade she missed the opportunity.

It is supremely important that we drink in the words of God Almighty. How can we mimic someone we don't know? Discipleship is an unbelievable honor and unbelievable task.

There was a quote back then that said "May you be ever covered in the dust of your Rabbi's feet". This implied you were following so closely to your rabbi you were always covered in his dust from the journey. This also meant you spent so much time at his feet you were covered in the dust from his feet.  We need to be listeners, learners and doers of Scripture, not out of duty but because it is our honor. He has chosen us, failures, sinners, rejects, to be in a place of such honor- at his feet and following him closely. Yet we are too busy doing our trade that we miss the opportunity to sit at his feet. How I spend my days quickly becomes how I live my life.

Where did Jesus go? Go there. Who did he love? Love them. Where did he spend his time? Invest there. Who did he commit his kingdom to? Pour out there.

Follow so closely behind Jesus you are continually covered in his dust.
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This changes everything for me. I am the disciple, the failure that Jesus called, not because he needs me but because he wants me right there with him, learning from him and finding rest. Being a disciple is not drudgery, it is the highest honor. Of course I should drop everything and follow. But how can I follow him if I don't know him. Jesus loved the orphan, the widow, the hungry, the failure, the screw up, the prostitute, the broken. He said if you want to find him he will be at the bottom of the pile with who the world calls the least. So why am I not there? Why do I resist following him there?
This changes everything. My mission is to follow so closely I am covered in his dust. But not to just take on the weight of his rules, because Jesus reversed that. He took on the weight of the law and we got freedom. But why do I settle for deliverance- just being saved- and not live in freedom? I can cast the burden on him and live in the benefit of his freedom. This should free me up to love who he loves, live in grace, walk in love. These truths pour over me frequently, yet sometimes I still get trapped in the monotony and weight and yoke of life. May I ever be covered in his dust.

To Wheeler on his 6th Birthday

Oh my goodness! 6 years. This time last year you were on your way home from your African Adventure. I can hardly believe 6 years has flown by. I remember all of these older women saying to me when you were tiny (and screaming constantly from chronic ear infections) that time will fly by. I remember just trying to make it through the day with an 18 month old and sick newborn, thinking no way is it flying by! But now looking back that time was a blink. 
I am so proud of the man you are becoming. I can see already how God has developed traits in you that I asked for even while I was pregnant. I prayed you would be tender and servant hearted, yet a leader. I prayed you would be generous and kind. Each of those God has answered in the way he is molding your heart. God is building in you courage to make the right choices, even when the crowd goes another way.  A few months ago you came home so concerned because when you mentioned Jesus at school, a girl in your kindergarten class told you he wasn't real.  The shock and concern in your voice as you told me the story was so tender. You wanted her to believe, you didn't understand how she could think he isn't real when he is so good. You told me you would have to just keep telling her Jesus is real and one day she would believe. I pray that fire in your soul continues, year after year, to point others to the realness of Jesus. That is your mission my son. That is why you are on this earth. And why I am. I fail daily in trying to point you to that realness when my sin and selfishness gets in the way and I am impatient or don't take the time with you that you need. I pray even full of flaws I can point you to the one who is perfect in my place.

I told you the other night how brave, strong, kind, courageous and servant-hearted you are. Your only response was a dimple inducing smile across your freckle dusted face.  You are a treasure my son. I pray I can show you the depth of your value in the man God is making you. I pray I can point you to who you are becoming, not just who you are now. I pray Jesus uses me to draw out your leadership and influence you will steward over others. I pray God continues to pull on your heart the plight of the orphan, the homeless, the diseased and people living in poverty.  That has got to me one of my favorite stories of you, walking through the slums of Kenya, high-riving and hugging and kissing each little kid that ran up to you. No obstacles to loving those different from you in color or wealth. Just a kid loving on other kids. 

My love for you goes beyond explanation. I love how you desire time with me so much. Whether its 5 games of Sorry in a row, a few minute snuggle, a story, game of tennis or scooter ride, you crave time. 

God has big plans for you. I don't have the slightest idea as to what they are, but I am so honored to walk alongside you in the adventure God has called you to. His story is big, it is wild, and he has a part just for you. Not because he needs us, but because he desires to be right next to you just as I do, even more. 

Keep drawing close to Him Wheeler,

Mom