Jamila

This is Jamila.  She is barely 2 months old.  She was brought to SCH with the group of kids from the state orphanage this fall.  Jamila is just a teenie, tiny, preemie baby.  She's barely getting started, folks.  Sigh.  (my throat is getting tight and my eyes are tearful....)I wish I could just ask for money for Jamila.  I bet someone would write a check and cover the cost of something because she is just so sweet and so tiny and so frail.  Sigh.  (Do you ever just bite the inside of your cheek because you want to say or write something and it just hurts....so you bite your cheek instead?  I'm doing that now.  Ok, here goes...)

Jamila was admitted to the hospital for vomitting/dehydration/diarrhea....the caregivers, Erin and Cassie, who are doing the hands-on supervision right now, were not allowed to see her in the NICU because of germs, etc.  When they finally were able to discharge her and take her home, the condition she was received was appalling.  She had lice and scabies and was still deathly ill.  My dear, sweet, Jesus sister Erin posted on facebook that she washed her and combed her hair to try to get rid of the lice....and kissed her over and over, even though she knew she could get the scabies or the lice if she did.  She did it anyway.  She offered loved.  And apology.  And anger.  And righteous indignation that this sweet, dear, precious child of God was entrusted to a hospital that did not care for her.  I can see Erin, weeping over this child, aching for her to be well, and whole, and happy.....and having to comb her almost bald, malnourished head to get the lice out....and cleaning up days and days worth of vomit and diarrhea and crying out to Jesus to help her and give her answers and wisdom......

Jamila is still alive.  Erin is still fighting for her.  I have been praying for Jamila, and for Erin and Cassie, for hours and days....so I'm bringing it up here so that you can help me.  Please pray with me, that the care and love and prayers for miracles and for a shift in the heavens will come.  Please pray with me that Jamila will turn the corner and start to keep her nutrition in and gain weight and live.  She was rejected by birth parents.  She was completely neglected by the hospital that was supposed to fix her.  Lets just cry out to Jesus and hope for a miracle for her, ok?

I know that the Lord has bent His head over me just like Erin has for Jamila.  I know that He has cried over me and "combed the lice from my hair" and contended for my healing.  I am better for it.  Jamila will be too.  Please help me pray.....because Erin is desperate for hope....and because the Lord made Jamila....maybe for just such a time as this.

Dear Santa,

I am writing this letter to you, Santa, the day after Thanksgiving so that you have plenty of time to look over my list.  You will need it.  You also may need some time to decide if I have been naughty or nice.  If you watch the video between 7am and 8pm, its mostly nice.  Anyway, Santa.  Here is my Christmas list.  Good luck and see you in 4 weeks!

This year, for Christmas, I would like an island for my kitchen.  I have very little counter space....and not much for cupboards....and a big empty spot where an island should go.  I would also like an Ipad....just because.  I would like some new clothes....but could you make them 2 sizes smaller than the ones I have....and magically make my body fit into them?  I would like a jazzy pair of black earrings because I don't have any and I have lots of black clothes in the closet.  I would like Ugg boots to feel young and hip and stylish....and warm.  I would like to start the adoption process again....for 2 orphans from India.  A boy and a girl.  I always wanted 6 kids, Santa, and this would finish us off nicely.  Oh, and could you please open up the legal channels for adoption with special needs kids in India....so that we could get 2 of the SCH kids?  Santa....I would like Roger to put this on his list, too.  Can one of your elfs move it to his list?  Maybe scratch off the flatscreen tv and replace it with adopting 2 orphans....Santa....could I have 2 airline tickets/resort hotel stays in my stocking so that Roger and I could travel together.....The Bahamas would be fine....India would be better.  southeast India.  Poor India.  Hmmmm.  What else.  Oh, I know.  I want to be a runner.  Santa, could you make me a runner this year for Christmas?  Best wishes....me.

Good-bye

Good-bye autumn.  We've had a wonderful time together.  You were here a long, long time.  Thank you for lingering.  Thank you for sunny days, warm breezes, beautiful colors.  Thank you for birds and squirrels and billowy clouds.  Thank you for pumpkin spice, apple cider, and all of the ways  you appeal to me...I will miss you but I am ready to welcome in the new season.  Winter is coming.  Winter is dark and cold and ruthless...but it brings many wonderful things.  Christmas.  Snow days.  Hot Chocolate.  Crafts.  Fuzzy hats and funky boots.  Silent snow falls that feel like magic....and worship....and peace.  Good-bye autumn.  Thanks for a great season.

Thankful

What an important holiday.  We are all declaring what and who we are thankful for today and it is so good.  We should do this every year....every month, really....even weekly and (dare I say it...)every day?  Anyway, it is good exercise to make that list and focus on all that is good and right with my world and yours.  I'm glad we make an effort to spend this day with family because it helps us remember who we are and who we came from.  It is an important day.  Some of my relatives travelled 4 hours just to share a meal together.  That is significant to me.  My husband got up at 3 AM!!!!! to light the grill and prepare the bird and start cooking.  Excessive?  Maybe.  Extravagant.....for sure.  Necessary?  Absolutely.

It is important to work hard, to tithe, to give and sacrifice, to exercise, to practice discipline and self-denial in our lives.  It is important to remember those less fortunate than us.  It is important to not forget the widow, the orphan or the alien in our midst.  It is also important to lavish life and blessing and celebration on ourselves...to eat too much because everything tastes so wonderful and looks so beautiful.  It is important to watch children dash through the room of seated adults, and run out into the leaves (that we never got around to raking up yet), and to hold the babies and to sit closer to the grandmas and great-grandmas.  It is all just so important.

Jesus is for the celebration, the wedding feast, the time to sit and relax and savor moments and people and time.  I'm so glad. 

Psalm 100

Verse 1:  Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.

Dear Lord, I hunger for that kind of joy, that no matter if it is morning or evening, I could shout joyfully to you.  We shout when our favorite team is victorious, we shout with joy when something amazing happens....and something amazing did happen.  You came down to earth.  You came from Heaven so that you might know us better and show us what Perfect Love looks like.  I want to shout for joy to you, Lord.  I want to bubble over with happiness and laughter and glee, because you are Lord.  You are the bomb.  You are the one.  You are who and what matters, in all the earth.  My agenda, my hopes, my dreams are just a shadow of yours, Lord.  You are what matters.  It's quiet and dark and subdued this sunday afternoon, but inside my heart, I can choose to shout for joy to you Lord.  In all the earth:  in my home, my family, my community.  In nature, in world events, in global changes.  All the earth is yours.  I choose joy to you Lord, not to the earth, but to you.  I choose to turn to you and to say "yes" to joy, unspeakable joy, indescribable joy, unsurpassing joy.....because you brought it down when you came.  Thank you.  Thank you.

The two patients are doing well. Thanks for all the prayers. This was the night before, so they don't look quite this good right now, but they are doing just fine. We are diligent with pain meds and trying to keep them hydrated and their tummies full. In fact, I just yelled at the boys to get out of here because they are throwing the football behind me and will inevitably break something. Precious decided to practice potty training today. She has impeccable timing. Why today, dear one? She's clingy but otherwise seems unaffected by the week's trauma. Roger and I are tired and glad to be home.

We have friends coming over with supper for a night of distraction, laughter and board games. Thank you all, so much, for loving us and caring about the routine, the typical, the ordinary things of life. We feel quite blessed and loved.

I know that many children have had routine tonsillectomies for years and years and years.  I know that the safest part of their days will be when the anesthetist is controlling their breathing, their sleep state, their awareness.  I know that doing tonsil/adenoid surgery will benefit them both for the rest of their lives.  I know it.  I really do.  I have typical kids with typical infirmity....and a clear solution.  Praise God it's not worse.  It could be so much worse.  It's just tonsils. 

Here's the problem.  I am not a typical mom.  I'm just not.  I'm that mama bird who goes nuts and flies around in attack mode when there is just a hint of danger lurking somewhere far off.  I'm that crazy mama that is a nervous wreck, a bundle of fear, and swallowing panick over this routine procedure.  I trust the Lord with my kids.  I trust his will, his plan, his provision.  I just dread turning them both over to strange surgical staff and then spending days in a feeble attempt at soothing them through painful recovery.  I hate to see my babies suffer.  I hate the idea of them being scared, in pain, hungry.....

I'm not very strong.  Don't tell Precious Maryn or Isaac that.  I'll be soothing and cheerful and calm for them.  I will reassure them over and over and I will be patient and I will be generous.  Years from now if they ever read this, they will laugh and be totally shocked  that I was such a basket case before their little operations. 

Orphan Care

This is Victoria. She's one of the SCH kids, but barely an orphan because so many people love her so much. Her only qualifier is that she has been abandoned....she has no parents. Yet. I've written about her before, but I just love this picture so much that I want to do so again now. I love it because when I look at it, I can feel the weight of her little body in my arms. I can hear her bangles jingle on her wrists...I can see her lovely little face again, just in remembering this sweet child. Orphan care is not orphan awareness. It may be about, but is not limited to orphan prayer.....it's called care for a reason. We, as Christians, are called to care. We should all get a lump in our throat when we think about Victoria, or any of the other 147 million orphans in the world, going to bed at night without a mom or dad to kiss their forehead, read a story, hear their prayers. We should care. We should care enough to support orphan homes financially, to write to them and to make friends with those working there, to encourage and to love and to fight for the quality of life of orphans. You know what else? It's not enough to say, "well, I've adopted. I did my part. Let the other billions of Christians take their turn...." You know why? Precious Maryn may have become "One Less" orphan in the world, and Victoria may as well....but the other 147 million are still out there. One less is just not enough. I wake up every morning and check on the life of Sarah's Covenant Homes. I pray for different people there throughout the day, as the Lord brings them to mind. At night, before I go to bed, I check once more just in case someone went into our came out of surgery, the hospital, etc. I care about all 127 of the orphans at SCH and I care about the rest of the orphans around the world, too. For me, going to SCH and holding Victoria, and the other dozens of kids I got to meet in my short couple of days there....that took me from awareness, and even prayer...to really, really caring. Forever caring. Won't stop talking about it caring. I am praying that Christians everywhere wake up and begin to see that orphan care is for us all. There are many orphans. There are also many Christians.

the greener grass

Cliches survive for a reason.  Many are true.  The grass is always greener on the other side.  When I am home, with clutter and chaos everywhere, and I just want to get one thought typed on the keyboard, or hear the ending of a show, or finish a sentence and I cannot because of children, noise, phones, etc....then I long to get away to somewhere quiet and alone.  (Wow, that was a really long sentence.  Sorry.).  When I am away.....like now.....the hotel room is clean and orderly.  Claire is off running with her buds.  I'm sitting on a fluffy comfy bed with my laptop, watching my show that is too scary for the kiddos....typing, munching and sipping....and it is lovely.  But.  I miss my rowdy kids and their clammoring about.  I miss the dirty socks balled up on the floor and the popcorn kernals on the couch.  I miss the sound of a ball banging over and over and over against the wall....so it is true.  The grass is always greener on the other side.  I like the grass on this side.  I will savor it for the next couple of days.  I will be fully present in the moments I have.  I need to be alone.  I need to rest.  I need to listen.  I will walk through the grass bare foot and I will feel it and I will savor it.  This grass.  On this side.  By sunday afternoon, I jump the fence back to the grass in my yard.  The grass I know.  that will be wonderful.

Next week Isaac and Precious Maryn will have their tonsils/adenoids taken out surgically.  We go in on thursday and come home friday....for the days and weeks that follow, I will be on high alert.  I will be mostly nurse and completely mom all the time....and I will need to have energy and patience and faith.  So for now, I get to savor a few moments of selfishness and peace.  Tomorrow I get to watch my beautiful girl dance.  Those are such good moments, when I get to watch her dance. 

A day in the life.....

Wake up at 6....stumble to the coffee pot.  Always the first stop.  Go to the computer and find the verse for Sarah for the day...post on facebook.  Pray said verse.  Claim it myself for the day because God likes that.  Snuggle Precious who staggered out of bed silently and found me, just as the sun was dawning.  Go down and wake up kids, sing to them.  Kiss hubby good-bye for the day.  7am....get breakfast, shower, drill memory verses for school, check homework, etc.  8am, kids on the bus and P to daycare for the first time all week due to a pesky fever.  Phew.  I am so grateful to my sitter!  I love her.  I love her.  I love her.

9am.  Run snack to Jeremiah's classroom for the veteran's snack pack we forgot to contribute to his backpack.   Realize he donated his personal snack instead.  Smile.  Hug.  Stash 2 cracker packs in his bag for recess.  Head to Walmart for Claire's birthday sleepover gift....and more milk and eggs.  Drop off sleepover bag and gift.  Unload groceries.  9:30....first visit of the day to a teen mom at school.  10am...second visit....11am....prayer leader meeting at local ministry (texting 1pm visit who cancels and reschedules...linger at meeting with very dear friends who inspire and challenge me spiritually). 

2pm 3rd visit in a town 30 minutes away...4th visit to another teen mom in a town even further away...check in with the boys and nana who is getting them ready for swim team....and finally head home at 5pm.  Get P from daycare.  Celebrate that she went on the big potty today!  Whoo hoo!  Set out supper, snuggle Precious and pace, waiting for dad to get home with the boys so I can go to prayer meeting.  Sigh.  Pace.  Text.  Check out the window.  Holy cow...is it dark already!  Sigh.

6pm.  At harp and bowl....praying, singing, listening, reading scripture....aaaaahhhhhhhhh.  9:30pm head home, debrief with hubby, snuggle Precious who wakes up, then falls back to sleep.  Kiss the boys.  Miss Claire who is at a sleepover.  Print off documents for weekend away.  Change laundry.  Gather dirty dishes.  Find what the rest of the fam needs while I'm gone.  Check facebook....no new updates on the India kids.  Sigh.  Breathe.  Sit.  Wow, 11:08pm.  Huh.  Guess it's time for bed.

baby Emma

Hi everyone.  Baby Emma has a doctor willing to pull fluid from her head every 3 days until she is stable for surgery.  Some may feel like death would be a comfort for her, and that may be true.  For now, she is still very much living.  She is aware of what is said and felt about her.  I would love for her to feel waves of love as she breathes, blinks, and causes her heart to beat.  She's just not done yet.  When I see this recent picture of her, I just want to kiss her sweet little mouth and whisper songs, prayers, scripture to her.  I really do.  Sweet Emma....you are ok.  You really are. 

Esther moments

Have you ever had an Esther moment?  I may have had one or two....when I felt that maybe, just maybe, I was created, "for such a time as this".  Today I spent time with someone who had to do something that made her very nervous and uncomfortable.  She was freaking out a little bit and I said to her, "maybe this is your Esther moment.  Maybe you were made for such a time as this, and this is part of your destiny, your duty to God's plan.  I'm sure Esther was nervous, too."  The concept made sense and I really think it helped her walk through the task before her. 

Here is a challenge.  Maybe we all need to declare the Esther moments of our lives, and walk through them as Princesses, with heads held high.  Maybe they involve catching puke from a toddler, to try to keep it off the carpet.  Maybe the Esther moment is to walk alongside a hurting boy, just entering puberty, and let him know he matters, and you care.  Maybe it's to encourage, or equip, or teach, or impart wisdom.  Maybe it's to ask for something (like orphan ministry in your local church, perhaps).  Maybe it is to be the voice of conviction and accountability to someone.....or 'fessing up to God about something yourself.  Maybe the Esther moment is to shine a light into a dark world, to reach out and pluck one of "the least of these" from hopelessness and bring him or her to love, to light, to hope.  Esther moments are all around us.  To find them, we may need to walk through fear, uncertainty, longing, dispair, insecurity....just like Esther did.  I'm pretty sure that for Esther, she had to get off of her comfy couch, and deny her worldly indulgences and move into something much more threatening and ominous.  She did it.  So did my girl today.  So can we.

I find myself longing, now, for Esther moments.  The ones that make you feel alive.  The ones that make your life matter.  The devil would have us not seek them out.  This, I am most sure of.  And so.  I will.  Will you?

I believe

I believe in happy endings.  There is a story that has been unfolding for years and years, and much of it is full of sorrow and pain....but I'm not giving up on the story.  I'm believing for the happy ending of that story.  I forget sometimes, and then when I put myself back in the story....I can always write the ending...happy ever after. 

I believe in healing, in full restoration of relationships, of health, of sanity, of peace.  I believe.  I believe like a child who waits for Santa on Christmas Eve.  Want to know a secret....sometimes, I still listen for the sound of reindeer hoofs on the roof when we go to bed Christmas Eve.  I seriously believe in all of it.  I believe in the amazing, the unexpected, the divine, the supernatural.  I believe truth is much stranger than fiction. 

Why?

Because so did my Lord Jesus.  He believed in the happy ending and made sure that it all heads that direction.  He already wrote the ending.  Therefore, I get to believe for happy endings, Holy suprises, miracles, signs, wonders, epiphonies, God-breaths.....and all of the little blessings and curses that get us from one to the next.  I believe in happy endings.  That's my story and I'm stickin to it.

to hear the video

again, so you don't get lots of noise, please click on the ipod to the right and hit pause so you can hear the Peter Eide video. 

"Why Wouldn't I?" by Peder Eide

Today is Orphan Sunday. It means alot to me. I hope God will convict many more Christians to feel the same way. Lord, have your way with us, with Christians on the earth who are willing to help you rescue your children and advance the Kingdom of Christ.

Are you feeling ship-wrecked? Alone? Thrust onto the shore when you know your destiny is to be in the water? Do you look at your boat, your vessel, your plan for life and wonder how you landed on dry sand, unable to move? Have you figured out yet what that stick is beneath your boat? The one that keeps you from dragging it back into the ocean, to be useful again? Does your stick have a name yet? Are you frustrated? Are you bewildered? Overwhelmed? Did God pull you out of the water for awhile? Are you stuck on shore so that you can rest, re-group, see things from a different view?

You're probably not alone. Let someone know so that they can stand with you, comfort you, share with you while you stand next to your vessel and try to figure out how to get it back in the water again. The Kingdom of God is very big and the Lord is very powerful. He delights in his children drawing strength and comfort from eachother, He really does.

Claire Barbara

brag post

As promised, here is my Claire brag post.  A few weeks ago, our church did a service project with the K-5th grade kids.  We told them about the SCH kids, they wrote cards and did a fund-raiser.  It was awesome.  Claire is in 6th grade and they do a different thing on church night.  She wanted to be included in spreading awareness and involving her peers in the SCH world that our family now abides in.  She asked if she could talk to her teacher at school about doing a writing project with the school-age kids in India.  Absolutely, Claire.  She did all of the leg-work.  She pitched it to her teacher, came up with a list of kids that could pair up with her class mates, came along to print off pictures and then presented it to her class.  I am just so proud of her.  She didn't need to put herself out there, be vulnerable, be willing to look like the wierd girl who likes weird stuff and doesn't "fit in with the world"....yeah, buddy, she so didn't.  She did it anyway.  She loves the kids at SCH.  She begs me weekly to plan a trip for she and I to go to India together.  She wants to play games and take care of kids and love on special orphans that God adores.  That's my daughter.  She brought SCH to her 6th grade class, knowing that some kids would be less than excited.  It mattered enough to her to risk it.  Did I mention that I am so proud of her?  I can't wait to see what God does with her in 10 years. 

Just because a reality-check makes sense, I should also share that tonight she told me that I am too old to adopt any more kids under the age of 8.  She's cutting me off from the babies.  Little vixen.  She said it more than once.  I'm too old for babies.  Sigh.  It's probably true. 

At age 12 she is a great baby-sitter.  She's smart enough to know that if I keep adding littles to our family, she will have to baby-sit for free at home, and if I don't, she is quite marketable as a sitter.  She's right.  Nuts, she's so right.  If God brings us a baby, we will rejoice and say "yes"...well, I will anyway.  If he doesn't, we will all know why  not.  We are getting pretty old.  All you younger-than-us readers out there, please join in and help adopt the babies who don't have families.  I'll be your rent-a-grandma any time I can!

I don't even care that he struggles in school, he's whiney and fragile. He gets his feelings hurt so easily. He is a victim to his burly brother. He can't entertain himself even for 5 minutes and is always asking for someone to play a game, jump on the tramp, do something. His most famous phrase is "I"m bored!". I don't even care. He is just so daggum cute. He has the best smile, the most sparkly eyes, the softest....and I mean THE SOFTEST skin I've ever touched in my life. He is my little Jeremiah and I am hopelessly in love with him. Cute little boys grow up to be men. Sometimes they are good men, who protect, defend, teach and guide. Some men are very disappointing, very selfish, very unkind. When I hear horrible stories on the news of what horrible sinful men have done to others, I can hardly believe that they were once darling little boys whose mamas loved them to pieces. I'm praying, today, for my sons. Lord, protect them. Preserve them. The world may not have them. Satan, he shall not pass by here. These are your sons, Jesus. These are your inheritance, not the world's and not the devil's. I will do everything I can do, God, but without you, there are just so many things that can go wrong. I know you love this little guy even more than I do, God, so do what you do best. Draw him near to you and hide him under your sheltering wings. Amen.