praying for kids

I've done alot of praying in the past few days, for children.  My children, children I work with, orphan children globally, and specifically the kids at Sarah's Covenant Homes.  When I'm praying, I have been able to get a strong sense that God really loves children.  All children.  Those born and unborn.  He loves children.  He loves us all, and he would have died for each of us individually, if we were the only one.  He really, really loves our kids.  That's why it matters.  That's why I do the work I do.  I want to love the kids that God loves.  I want to know them by name and hold them and sing to them and rock them.  I want to tell their mamas that their children are beautiful and smart and lovable.  I want to help these mamas to have better lives, so that their children can feel less stressed.  I'm praying for these kids I work with.

I'm praying for my kids, who have so much.  They have potential, health, goodness.  They have talents and identities in Christ and in their family.  They have friends.  They have grandparents and aunties, uncles, cousins.  They have a responsibility to live up to all they have been given.  The devil hates that.  My kids need prayer.

Then.....there are the orphans.  My other kids.  Specifically, the SCH kids because I know their names.  I've held them.....I will again, very soon.  I'm praying for these kids because God loves them so much.  They don't have that big long list of things that my four have.....they don't even have at-risk mamas who need to be nurtured and encouraged in parenting......but in the long list of what they lack....what fills that space, stands Jesus.  He is everything for them.  I want to be where Jesus is the everything.....and I get to be for 2 weeks, very soon.  I'm praying for these kids, because He loves them....and because He loves them, so can I.  So do I.  I know Jesus better when I know these kids.  I'll keep praying.

Dance lesson

Today I got to watch lots and lots of dancing.  I also watched and listened to lots of people.  When you are sitting alone, you notice alot.  Here is one observation.  I noticed that on the stage, a girl can look absolutely sweet and innocent, or confident and out-going for her performance but backstage, or in the seat by her mom, or in the dressing room, she can have a much different personality.  Our stage presence is often impressive and brings out the best in us.  What we convey when "no one is watching" is usually less attractive. 

You might think I'm going to say something about how we shouldn't be fake and "better than" but rather be our real selves all the time,  but here is what I decided today.  I want the stage Me.  I want the me that does her best all the time, just in case someone is watching.  I want the Me who cares about how I look and sound and move.....for an audience....of One.  I want the Lord to be front row in my life, as the judge, the teacher, the parent, friend and stranger near me.  I want the Lord to be who I perform for.   No one else, no other agenda.  I want my life to be art, like dancing.  I want the Lord to smile and know that I am trying my hardest and doing my best. 

He already knows how it looks when I am at my worst.  He knows all of me.  He created me for a great deal more potential than I have yet realized.  He proved it when he nudged me to go from walking the track to running....and in less than 3 months I could run 3 miles without stopping.  He wants my best effort, my training, my courage, my effort.  It counts if I just get on the stage and move.  He can provide the music and the lights and the costume even.....I just want to remember who is watching me when I dance. 

Anyone else want to take a dance lesson?

This morning, Precious Maryn was driving me nuts.  I was packing bags to take Claire to Minneapolis for dance competition.  She was responding to the chaos of luggage, anxious mom, late start for kids due to snow....and she was just a crazy girl.  I was thinking about how nice it would be to just sit and rest for a few days with one of four kids, and not worry about keeping Precious alive for awhile.  She is in that dangerous 2-year old place of finding scissors, dish soap, fingernail polish and moving very quickly.

2 hours into the trip I started to miss her.  All of her.  I missed her soft quiet voice, her naughty loud laugh....her recklessness, her love of life.  She's wonderful.  Even when she is exasperating.  Now, tonight, 10 ours later...I miss her more.  She's soft and sweet and smells really good.  When she falls asleep on my chest, the weight of her is so nice. 

It's good to go away.  It's good to notice not just the hard parts, but the good parts.  I was created for a busy house, with lots of kids and noise and mess.  I was created to grow children in that atmosphere....and then to step away once in awhile so that I appreciate it, and them.  I will rest and relax and write and listen and watch and read and smile for a couple of days.  It will be good to get filled back up. 

We're going to try to get back to India by late-March so the whirlwind is coming fast....its really ok that I'm sitting in the hotel for hours on end tonight, and will sit at dance for hours on end tomorrow.  It's ok that I miss the 3 kids and dad back home.  I'll be back to it soon, going crazy, trying to get a handle on all the noise and mess and chaos....and that's life.  The good life.  The abundant life. 

when you name a blog....

What is my blog called again? Oh yeah....answer to my prayers.  I'm accountable to that title.  When I get an answer to prayer, I feel compelled to share it.  Well, I got one.  Another one.  I set out fleece awhile back, about going to India again.  God answered.  I'm going back.  Someone offered to pay my way.  Yes, you read that right.  When the offer came, it was like God showed up right in front of me and looked me square in the face.  I started to cry and was so overwhelmed and caught off-gaurd.  It was someone least expected.  But so like God to work it out that way.  I'm blown away.....I'm humbled.  I'm excited and I'm overwhelmed.  Don't ask me who it was.  They want to remain unnamed.

I get to go back to India, to SCH, and to see the new kids I helped pray into safety and health.  I get to hold them and sing over them and pray for them and play with them.  How is it that I get to live this life?!  The specific job will be to help work on files for kids so that they are ready for adoption.  I am praying that many Christian families will feel God's call to come and adopt special needs orphans from SCH.  I am praying that the legal paths will be forged by these first families, already in the process, and the result will be a quicker, easier path to get these kids into families. 

Here's the bonus gift.  Not only did God answer my prayers, but he proved that he has good plans and delights in giving good gifts.  It looks like my mom gets to come along this time.  Roger will stay home and take care of home and hearth (by his choice-I did invite him to join me.) and keep the kids on track.  My mom and I will do something we have never before done.  We will share 2 weeks in India serving and loving and following the Lord where He is working.  After the recent video posted, it appears my musical mother will also have opportunities to teach piano to the kids.  How great is that? 

Since I didn't fund-raise to pay for the trip this time, if anyone feels nudged to give financially, all of that money can go directly to SCH and the needs of the kids.  Please feel free to give.  These kids are really special and God really, really loves them.  He would love to see many sow into this ministry because it not only blesses the kids, but it truly does bless the givers.  I can prove it.  I am so blessed.

Piano video

Piano Prodigies from SCH INDIA on Vimeo.

For so many reasons, this is worth time and attention.  Please pause the music on the right side of my blog and hit play for this video.  I really hope it works.  If not, let me know and I'll help you find it on facebook.  Piano and children....not just any children.  Children who maybe never made music before with an instrument.  Children who once were lost and alone and felt unnoticed and unloved.  I was set down at a piano when I was 5 years old.  Prior to that, I played on the floor at my mother's feet and listened to her play beautiful music in our "sewing/piano" room.  Live music, simple, clean, lovely.  It was ALWAYS in my home.  My mom plays piano beautifully.  I started at age 5 and took lessons until I was 18.  I was never wonderful.  I mastered it enough to play for pleasure.....but now....seeing this video....I want to play again like it matters.  It matters to these girls.  They want to learn to play.  One child is completely blind....and phenomenally smart....and getting close to being adopted.  Can you imagine it?  Can you dare to hope for her...for all 3 of the girls in this video?  Come on now, people....hope with me.  Believe in these girls with me.  Pray that God will send skilled workers, musical volunteers, financial givers to help enhance music for the kids at SCH. 

Dear pastor.....

Dear pastor.  Stop asking me, "how are you doing?" on Wednesday nights when I've had a long, hard day seeing at-risk families.  I usually don't even want to be in church and have only arrived to pick up the speedy two-year old who manipulated her way there with dad....and doesn't want to come home with mom.  After a long and difficult people day, I would rather avoid chaotic mid-week church classes and instead, be home in my quiet house filling back up emotionally.  Pastor, when you ask me, I just tell you, "oh, I'm alright" but you are always so concerned.  I really am ok.....and will be much better at home by 9pm.  Also, pastor, don't ask me that on Sunday mornings either.  I typically ate my breakfast in the car and couldn't find my lipstick....and settled for kids wearing less than their "sunday best" and I'm frazzled. 

Ask me.....after intercessory worship on thursday nights.  Ask me on friday morning when Precious and I are hanging out at home listening to music and doing laundry.  Ask me when I'm finishing my last lap at the track.  Ask me on tuesday nights when our family is all around the table for dinner and we are laughing and talking and eating together.  Ask me then.  If you do, my answer will be, "I'm blessed, Pastor.  I'm grateful.  I'm hopeful and I'm pleased.  I'm content.  I'm living large.  I'm good." 

Today is Ash Wednesday.  Jesus began 40 days of preparation through fasting and prayer, and He sought the will of the Lord.  He endured temptation.  He was victorious over the devil and all his best temptations.  I want to spend all 46 days of Lent, even Sundays, especially Sundays....and Wednesdays....basking in the grace and glory of my Saviour Jesus Christ.  I want to present myself to God so that He can spend 40 days preparing me.....for whatever He wants to on day 41. 

I repent of my sins and of my "oh, I'm alright" attitude.  I want forgiveness and redemption and cleansing.  I want Jesus.  On day 1 of Lent this year, I have found a need to be preparable.  I want and seek the Lord's artistry, His refinement, His rewriting of all I say and do, so that it lines up in obedience to Him.  I know He is preparing me for something.  I don't even care what it is.  I'm in.

Yes or No

Today I was thinking about the Lord.  I marvelled at how much He pursues me.  As I was thinking about this, and all of the things He has offered me, and given me, it struck me that often, I reject Him.  Often, He offers me something and I don't get it,  or refuse it, or postpone it.  Wow.  Saying "no thanks" to the Creator of the Universe.  Yes.  I have.  It really brought me to tears today.  It struck me that it is disobedient to say nuh-uh to God.  It's just not fair.  I want to be yes every time.  Why am I no so much?  Fear?  Laziness?  Uncertainty?  Busyness?  Darn it.  I don't want to be no.  I want to be yes.  I want to wake up every day with "yes, Lord" and go to bed with, "did I miss anything, Father?  If so....count it a yes". 

How dare I get upset or question Him whe he tells me "no".  I'm just guessing, based on scripture, and what I know about my God, that if I'm a yes to him often....or always....he will be a "yes" to me as well.  We will agree.  We will be of one mind.  We will be in the same plan. 

Lately, I waited on God for an answer to something....and I got a "yes" and "yes" and a little "well, get to it" just for good measure.  So much affirmation.  I hardly know what to make of so much yes.  Well....based on my thoughts earlier today.....I go with "yes".  Yes, Lord.  Yes.

This is Judah. He's about six years old. The only mama he's ever known is also a mother to about 114 other children (give or take). I know a wee bit about his story but not as much as I would like to know. He's been at Sarah's Covenant Homes for a couple of years now. I'm praying about a return trip to SCH sometime soon, like, this spring. IF and when the Lord lets me go back, I'll be sure to take lots more pictures of Judah and try to make friends with him. In this photo, he had snagged some of the toys we took to India with us and that look said something like this: "I'm cute. I know it. I'm gonna just grab these few toys and stash them under my bed quick before the ayahs catch me. If you could excuse me for a minute....I need to dash"

1. Please consider being a prayer partner for Judah. He is learning English so you can even send him cards and letters. I'll give you the info on how to do that if you want.
2. Please consider sponsoring Judah financially to help with the cost of sending him to a good school. He's super-healthy as far as I know and doesn't need much extra fund-raising for surgeries, etc.
3. Pray and ask the Lord whether you should pursue adopting Judah. This little boy does not deserve to grow up in orphan care. He was created for a family. He was created to call someone mom and dad and to play soccer on a team with the city rec and take swimming lessons in the summer and make snow men in the winter....ok, well, maybe not the snowmen since he was born in India....but you get the point. This hunny bunny really needs a family.

running

Today I orchestrated a work-out for mom.  Sometimes that is easy but sometimes, like today, it's hard.  The kids were home from school.  Dad and the boys were packing up to go to a swim meet out of town for the weekend.  I had a visit with a teen mom (because she was home from school) and I REALLY wanted to go to the track and exercise.  Claire was itching to get to her friend Anna's house because it is Anna's birthday.  She knew she had to help me first.  I got it done, I got all my bases covered and got to the track for my little 3-mile trot.  I've begun to love running.  I'm not fast and I'm definitely not skinny.  Without any obvious rewards, I'm still loving it.  I love feeling my body push hard to do something it resists.  I love the feeling of the stress melting away with each lap around the track.  If I run the outside lanes, its 7 lanes for a mile....so I'm counting as I go and I'm praying.  It's so good.  I would love to do it every day but it almost takes the orchestration of a full-blown concert to get just 3 times in every week....I feel blessed to get there 3 times. 

This morning I was chugging along, counting, praying, breathing, panting.....and "grandpa" came.  I don't know him but he is grandpa-age.  He is there often when I am and he walks awhile, then he jogs.  He is seriously in his late 60s or early 70s or older.  He is so inspiring.  He goes lap after lap after lap....miles even.  We smile at eachother if we are going opposing directions and encourage one another.  Last week he didn't run much because he hurt his knee (go figure) but today he was back.  I was cruising along, midway through the second mile when he shifted from walk to jog.  I lapped him once, headphones in place, cruising along to my tunes.....and then a few laps later, caught up with him again.  Grandpa challenged me.  He totally caught up with me....and started to move ahead.  Heck no, grandpa.  You're good and all....but even in my mid-forties....and you a couple decades beyond that ....no way.  So I sped up.  He sped up.  He was totally racing me.  I thought to myself, "you scoundrel....you have to know I'm finishing up my second mile and getting tired, so of course you have an advantage!"...oh wait.  He's grandpa.  20 years my senior......not really a scoundrel....but, here he comes again!  So I picked up the pace AGAIN to try to leave him in the dust.  He was right on my heels....lap after lap after lap.  I was panting and dripping sweat and heaving for oxygen trying to stay ahead of him.  So eventually, he gave up and backed down to a lesser pace and I managed to increase the distance between us....but seriously.  Grandpa almost caught me. 

When I finished the 3 miles, I was walking a bit, stretching, and he came from the other way and we made eye contact, smiled.....and I swear I could hear him say, "you just wait, babe.....I'll get you next time."  Grandpa is a force to reckon with.  I need to find a different time to run.

tonight I'm thinking of a place.....

Tonight I'm thinking of a place that makes me feel loved, accepted, peaceful and happy.  It's not far from here, just over an hour's drive.  You might find it with GPS, but more likely not.  I won't go there any time soon, because the best of this place is found in summer time.  When I stand in my front yard in the snow, and listen to birdsong, and look up at blue sky, I can begin to anticipate going back to this lovely little place.  I'm longing for it.  The memories of happy times, the peace and tranquility of it, the warmth of summer, the luxury of relaxation.

Describe it?  Sure.  At the end of a 20-foot L-shaped dock sit 2 chairs.  They look over a peaceful, lazy lagoon.  In the morning, you can see fishing boats drift past, and even canoes with happy vacationers smiling and waving.  In the afternoon, there are geese and birds and fish....and in the evening: bullfrogs, muskrats and starlit nights.  As you look left there sits a firepit in the grass, and often, dying embers from a bonfire that we had, roasting marshmallows with the kids, laughing under blankets.  Behind me is my parents' home.  My dad and step-mom have lived here for 20 years or so.  It's a small lake cabin full of memories, happiness, forgiveness, joy, and love.  Mistakes happen here and grace is always flowing.  I love this place.  I love the memory if it, and the anticipation of returning to it.  My people are there, as are the fish, the bullfrogs, the canoes, the stars.  I miss my dock.  I miss the peace and wonderful sense of being ok in the world.....and I get to have it again and again and again.  Hurry up spring, lets get going so I can move into summer and go find my dock.

Words/Wednesday

Raise up a generation of worshippers and intercessors.....that's what I heard from God a few weeks back.  I think I'll write about that.  Sometimes, the idea of "raising up" anything more than kids who merely survive is overwhelming.  They don't listen.  They don't pick up after themselves.  They don't put others' needs first simply because it is biblical.  Parenting is so hard.  They eat alot, go through lots of clothes and want constant attention and entertainment.  They don't really want to learn, just relax and play.  Exhausting.  They don't say please or thank-you without being instructed to do so.....it's just a thankless job much of the time.  Don't misunderstand me.  I LOVE being a mom.  I LOVE children.....all children.  I am deeply in love with my own kids.....and it is amazing to watch them grow.  But it is really hard.  Small victories, like studying for a test independently, or playing with their little sister without being asked, told or threatened.....small victories like putting dirty laundry IN FRONT of the washer simply because they see me doing laundry.....those are huge for us. 

Discipline is hardest.  Give me dirty diapers, fevers, all-night breastfeeding.  Give me on-line shopping to replace too-small shoes, give me lots of taxing parenting issues.....and please give discipline to someone else.  I stink at it.  Mostly because I lack self-discipline and am a push-over.  I like fun and snuggly and affirming.  I hate firm and consistent and follow-through.  Hard.

So, Lord....really?  Intercessors and Worshippers?  That's what we're about here?  Oh, and "those for missions"....haven't forgotten that one.  Sigh.  Teach them to pray, to have compassion, to cry out for the needs of others.  Teach them to worship you and to know your Presence and to understand your power and your mercy and your grace.....encourage them to sing and dance and make music and celebrate before your throne.....teach them to come to you with everything. 

Please, Abba Father, raise up this generation.....to be worshippers and intercessors and those for missions.  I'm trying but I'm really, really bad at it, Lord.  Help?   please?

empty spaces

This is another one of Anson's photos.  I just love it.  Meditation for your Sabboth rest.....how many cubbies and shelves are you willing to keep empty and waiting for the Lord.  Are we willing to let Him decide what to place in them?

When I dust...

Tonight I dusted and vacuumed.  That's what we do on saturday nights if we have swim meets all day....or volleyball....or dance.  Saturday night is not too exciting here....but this mama enjoys Sunday a whole lot more if I can find the wood surface beneath the piles we make all week long, dust them off, vacuum the floors and light some candles.  So by 9:05 tonight, thus was accomplished.  When I dust, I have to lift all the lamps, picture frames, candle holders, trinkets and treasures as do you all.  I remember when we got them, what we were doing, etc.  My dusting is reflective and it's rather nice.  Usually.  Tonight, for some reason, I kept seeing all of our old stuff.  Most of our decor came as gifts for our wedding (15 years ago) or was aquired on a vacation.....and it dawned on me that we are, perhaps....dated.  I lifted a particular trio of candle holders and wondered how out-of-style they actually were.  I have no clue.  I don't consult decorator magazines, and if I shop, its usually for boys jeans or toddler pjs....so I don't even know what is selling in stores.  Sadly, I never did!  I was a gypsy before I married at 28 years old...well, not literally, but I just moved about without "stuff".  Our first home together was furnished with wedding gifts and hand-me-downs....sigh. 

There is no solution for this.  I will not spend the money for a complete make-over.  That money is much more useful for orphans in India, or the dance bill, or milk.  Besides, I would MISS my trinkets and treasures and gifts.  So when you come visit, please do notice the dated candle holders and boxes and out-of-style picture frames.  Notice the furniture that is not new, and often not clean.  Notice the ripped  throw pillows.  (They rip because the children THROW them.).....and even the carpet that looks like someone walked over it, spilled on it, spent time there.  Notice the finger prints on the windows and mirrows.  We live here.  See the toys that are always strewn about in the yard.  The kids play there and seldom pick up for themselves.  We are that neighbor with stuff everywhere.  It's ok. 

When I dust.....I come to grips with exactly who I am.  I'm dated, I'm sentimental, I'm imperfect.  Thank you dust.  We can revisit this again next week saturday night....kind of like a date...only less romantic.

Jesus loves me this I know......for the bible tells me so.

A few weeks ago some kids from our church helped us with Sanctity of Life Sunday by being our Praise Team.  There were a few parents up there as well, but the dozen or so kids just blew us away.  My dear friend Deanne pulled Precious up there for the Jesus Loves Me song and the little bugger took the microphone, stood on her own two feet and sang the song.  It was priceless to me.  My pastor thought they could burn a disc of the service for all the families but I haven't seen it yet.  Then, and now, I considered how wonderful it would be to send that video with our regular letters to Precious Maryn's birth mom.  I think it would bless her.

The other day Precious and I were singing Jesus Loves Me This I Know and then I took her to the computer and we got on youtube to watch others singing it.  She fell asleep on my chest watching.  The weight of her body, the silence of her lack of movement....which-by the way-is noticeable.  When she is not sleeping, she is perpetual motion and perpetual noise.  Life explodes from Precious Maryn.

Today I had home day with Precious.  We had to bring soup to school for the soup supper, make snacks to sell at the swim meet tomorrow and do lots of laundry.  Mid-morning we stopped in at a new place in town called H.O.M.E. which stands for House of Missions and Equipping.  They have a prayer room and a few times a week, someone will be on stage singing, praying, worshipping.  I knew that a beautiful girl named Ana would be on at 10:30 so I pencilled it in for home day and we went.  We were the only ones there and we sat right up front.  Precious was on my lap and I just held her and rocked and listened as the two girls sang Nothing But the Blood of Jesus....and then at some point, they noticed P and switched to Jesus Loves Me This I Know to the tune of Nothing But the Blood....and it was soooooooooooooo good.  Precious perked up and just knew they were singing to her.  She mouthed the words a bit, then melted into my lap and we just swayed back and forth, singing, worshipping, experiencing the Lord together. 

I began to pray for Precious as Ana sang Jesus Loves Me.  I prayed for her future, for her health, for her life.  I thanked the Lord for her.  I prayed for her birth mom, and her bio siblings....and then, for the first time, I prayed for her birth dad.  I never really have.  He flat-out never wanted anything to do with her so it was easy to dismiss him as significant.  In this place, I was thinking of Kingdom, and of her salvation, and of one day seeing her bio family in Heaven.  It occurred to me that there may be noone from her family tree in Heaven.   I just don't know that much about them.  We write to her birth mom regularly, and have prayed for her for years.....but the birth dad?  I began to cry silent tears and to ask the Lord to work out a plan of salvation for every member of her birth family.  I want her to know them in Heaven, if not before.  I want to consider them family in Heaven.  I just cried and cried and agreed with Ana as she sang, :Jesus loves me this I know, for the bible tells me so.  She is from Hunduras (I think) and as she sang, I thought to myself.....I'd love to hear her sing in Spanish.....and then she did....Jesus Loves Me This I Know....in Spanish....undone.  Weeping.  Loving and feeling loved as I held my Precious child and worshipped on a Friday morning. 

He really does love us.  This I know.  The bible tells me so.  Little ones-LITTLE ONES- to Him belong.  They are weak but He-Is-Strong.

Later in the day I was changing Precious in the bathroom.  She said, "Where are girls, mom?"  I was confused.  "Girls mom.  Girls.  Sing.  Me.  Again."   ooooooh!  The girls this morning?  Singing to you?  What did they sing, hun?......bashful smile, big eyes, flashy teeth...."Jesus Loves Me".....Yes, Precious.  The girls sang Jesus Loves Me to you this morning.  Next week.  We can go again next week and they can sing to you again, ok?  "Ok, mom."  ok.

red shoes

These feet belong to a sweet child at SCH called Genevieve.  There is a photographer in India right now named Anson Workman and he is doing the videos and instagram photos.  He is so talented.  Check out his work on facebook, under Sarah's Covenant Homes page or his own page.  He does beautiful work and really shows the best of SCH.  This picture could be art on a wall. 

Melanie

Meet Melanie.  Isn't she gorgeous?  I've only seen a couple of pictures of her but she is such a dolly.  This makes me want to grab those sweet little fingers and pull her up in a big squeeze.  Since I haven't held her yet, I wonder.....can she sit up by herself?  Does she have stiff muscle tone or floppy?  Does she talk?  Is she very developmentally delayed, or just a wee bit?  Does she like music?  Dolls?  Bubbles?  If I hold her close, will she snuggle in and mold to my body or become rigid and pull away....what was life like for her before she was brought to SCH.  Did anyone ever hold her close and tenderly?  Did someone hurt her?  Was she abandoned as an infant?  Toddler? 


Melanie is a child of God.  She was created for a purpose, to know the Lord and glorify His name.  Just like you and just like me.  That is why we are all given the breath of life.  To know the Lord and glorify His name.  I think the beauty of her eyes and her sweet smile do just that.  They help me to know the Lord and I praise him for sweet Melanie.  Thank you, Lord, for her life.  Thank you for her smile and her sweet little hands.  Maybe I can hold them someday, but if not, Lord, hold them for me, ok?  Pick her up in your sweet embrace, Father, and let her feel your love, your healing power, your divine provision for her.  Amen.

Words from God Wednesday

Yep, it's Wednesday again.  Lucky for me, if I come across a Wednesday or two without fresh knowledge from God, I can always turn to the Holy Word and glean from it.  This is not that week.  This is fresh Words.....Now..... People.  Keep in mind, that when I hear the Lord speak, I could very well be wrong.  You get that, right?  I don't have super powers or anything.  I'm just ordinary, usual and typical.  I ask the Lord to speak to me, to help me, to lead me and guide me alot....and sometimes, I feel like He says things in response.  Sometimes. He says them without provocation.  He speaks to my soul.  That is what I'm describing:  Soul talk.  Here's how it went this week.

I was jogging around the track, about half way done with my 3-mile trot....and I'd been praying, worshipping, thinking, listing, interceding, begging, etc.  When you run alone, there is alot of that.  I came to a pause in my soul talk and rounded a corner.  Honestly, I don't think I will ever round that corner of the track again and not remember.  I was looking at the wall of the gym as I rounded and I heard this:  "Daughter!  LISTEN to me.....don't stop trying."    It was clear.  It was Holy.  It was quiet but very confident.  It did not make me feel yucky.  It sounded alot like many verses from the bible that have always touched me spiritually.  I believe it was from the Lord. 
1.  He calls me (you) daughter.  He says it gently sometimes, he says it firmly other times.  He gets my attention when he calls me daughter.
2.  He wants to make sure that I (we)listen.  In other words, stop talking once in awhile and just listen.
3.  Don't stop trying.  Don't quit.  Don't give up.  Don't give in.  You know what else?  It doesn't even matter what we are trying for.  My "it" is a list of about 20 things I am always trying for, contending for, praying about, fretting over, hoping and begging for, ready to give up on.  He wants me (and you) to keep trying.  He notices.  He cares.  He's working on it.  All of it.  All the time.  Like a daddy.  Like a daddy who has an opinion on it.  All of it. 

Isn't that just lovely?  I think so.

Beef Stew

Sunday dinner today is beef stew.  It's winter time and fresh fruit is not readily available in the midwest.  It's veggie season and for me, a hearty beef stew sounded wonderful so that is what I prepared.  Isaac always asks, "what's for dinner".  Sometimes, the answer thrills him (and the rest of the crew) and sometimes....well, sometimes it's just food.  Suffice it to say, beef stew is "just food."

I love to cook for my family.  I love to prepare things that they love and are excited about and thank me for making.  The list is long because around her, we LOVE to eat!  I would love to make a holiday feast of favorites for every meal, but sometimes it has to be "just food".  It cannot be pizza, lasagna, etc. every day.  Healthy wholesome vegetables that cook for 5 hours are good for us, even when they are not very exciting. 

I bet God feels the same way about our spiritual food.  Sometimes, he prepares the feast, the celebration, the exceptional "yum" for us...and other times, its just food.  Daily nourishment, seasonal ingredients depending on what we need for the day.  I'm sure He is always thinking about that special something that will put a smile on our faces, as we sit down for the meal.  I'm sure He delights in a suprise or two.

That's why, in addition to the winter beef stew and leftover dinner rolls.....I made oreo fluffy salad....just cuz.  :)

Friday

I just love Friday.  I seldom work on Friday.   The kids are less snarly on Friday...the promise of weekend and lazier days and no bedtime is so sweet.  My trouble is that because it is not technically a work day, I usually have a very long list of "home" stuff to do.  The trouble, for me, in working approximately 24 hours per week, is that it is not enough hours to afford a house keeper/cleaner, but too many to actually get things done myself.  Fridays it all comes to a head.  I had a pretty long list of duty and pleasure for today to share with Precious Maryn, as we were home together. 

It took until noon for me to fold all of the baskets of laundry that had accumulated for the week....and to give up on potty-training.  She went through about 4 pair of pants and undies.  The kid is just not ready.  We wrestled, played "fort", snuggled, watched Dora a few times....and cleaned up.  At noon she crashed.  I fixed lunch for my hubby, worked for an hour on the computer (because I am chronically behind by about 24 hours of paperwork each week) and then she woke up.  We played play-dough....changed laundry (again) and the kids came roaring in off the bus.  Claire had violin lessons, I owed the boys a trip to the library....then we checked out a new dollar store in town-and decided to hit Walmart instead.....valentines are now purchased and supper is done.  It's 8pm on Friday.  My legs are aching, my list is barely started.....but it's Friday.

I need to switch the laundry again and then make the bed so we can sleep in it.  I didn't pack away Christmas decor yet.  I didn't get any writing done.  I didn't get to go visit my grandma.   I barely did a bible study lesson.....I didn't bake.  But.   We have clean clothes and clean dishes and enough food in the kitchen to float by a few days.  I think I covered the Proverbs 31 list ok.  The beauty of Friday is that we still have Saturday....and Sunday.  Yey. 

Today.....

Today I made good on a promise.  Rewind to last fall.  Our church kids' group did a service project and made cards for SCH kids.  They filled tubes of mini M&Ms and brought in several hundred dollars as a fund-raiser for the orphanage.  It was such a blessing to be a part of that and to give each of our church kid (over 100) a picture of a child from SCH to pray for, write to, etc.  The kids group is K-5th grade.  Claire is in 6th.  She began to think through how to have some ownership herself in the SCH effort.  She loves this ministry almost as much as I do and is aching to go to India herself someday and love on the kids there.  I will take her.  I just need to go myself a few times first so that I can keep her safe and be her mama there.  Anyway!  Claire hatched a plan to do a fund-raiser with her class at school.  She presented it to her teacher.  She offered to do the work.  In November, the 24 kids in her 6th grade class all wrote a letter to a child from SCH around their age.  The teacher opted to wait for the fund-raiser and follow-up writing assignment until now and so we worked it out via email this past month. 

I bought the candy, Roger designed the labels to tape on with the contact info for SCH.  Roger pulled the "Paint Day" video to a flash drive so that I could show it after my brief presentation.  Claire nervously asked me to not wear my India outfit....and  "please mom....don't cry."  Later she decided it was ok to wear the outfit....but I promised not to cry.  I have to confess that I was a nervous wreck to do this silly, 10-minute presentation.  Claire was so worried that I would embarass her.  She desperately wanted the fund-raiser, and the awareness....but was so worried about her dorky mom making her look-what?  Who knows with a 12-year old. 

I was there 2 minutes early.  I walked to the front with my bag full of candy and my flash-drive video...and I looked at these 24 exceptional, beautiful, filled-with-potential for Jesus tweeners....and I opened my mouth....and I started to cry.  Really big tears, catch in your throat, can't talk crying.  I was wearing my India outfit and the scarf was hot and sweat was rolling down my back....and poor Claire couldn't even look at me.  Not because she was embarassed.  Because she understood.  She would have cried too.  I wept because these sweet little orphan kids all the way around the world matter so much to me.  I wept because sometimes they don't have what the need because there is not enough money, and as I looked at this class full of beautiful children who DO have all they need and more....I just wanted it to matter to them.  I wanted them to beg their parents to give extravagantly to SCH, to give sacrifically to SCH, to let it sink into their souls in a way that doesn't easily let go.  I cried because I am unable to get that point across in 10 minutes with M&M tubes.  I cried because these orphan kids matter so much to me, that if I get to share them....I am moved.  I cried because I was trying so hard to not embarass my daugher and yet, in the moment, the emotion swallowed me up and I did it anyway.

After school, I made sure I was home when they got off the bus which never happens on Wednesdays.  I made brownies.  I sucked up a bit.  I apologized.  Claire said it was ok, that I didn't embarass her.  She had to say that because she is a first-born daughter. 

get outa the way....I'm on a roll.

I just hit "post" but now I'm writing again.  Nope.  I don't save as draft, schedule a post or wait.  I stay dry in the desert or soaking wet in the rain.  Today, for me, it's raining blogs.

Fleece.  Sigh.  Fleece.  Sigh.  I have to say, I'm not a fan.  I'm not good at setting it out, or reading the answer....or being obedient when I do. ( Gosh. Maybe I'm a manipulator! ) Gasp!  Sigh.  Fleece.  For those who don't know.....according to the bible.....sometimes when we don't know what to do, or if we wonder if we have heard the Lord correctly, we can set out fleece.  It's sort of a physical sign to confirm something we think we know, but are in doubt of.  So, the idea is, you set out the fleece and say to God. " If this is your will, make the fleece wet....if it's not, leave it dry," etc.  Look it up in the book of Judges, the story of Gideon.  Note to self...it would be good to find some good sermons on fleece because, frankly, fleece is hard.

I've been trying to decide whether God is calling me back to India for another 2-week trip, or if it's just me and my mama heart, aching for the kids (especially the 22 or so I have not yet hugged, prayed over or sang songs to).  When I left India the last time, I knew I would return. I just didn't know when or why.  I immediately began to ask the Lord for direction there....and for a long time I heard "help and bless".  Well, now I have the "when and the why" but I am waiting on God for a clear sign that this is His Will, and not mine.  SCH will always need help.  SCH will always welcome me back because they are my friends, my family, my inspiration.  Planning a trip of such magnitude is stressful and expensive and sacrificial on every level.  It costs in money, in time, in emotion, in spiritual battle, in purpose...and then there is the arguing and justifying to all of the "nay-sayers" in my life....so I really do need to know if it is an invitation, a request from the Lord or not.  I just don't have enough energy if it's not. 

I have an opportunity to return this spring, in late March-May to help care for the most fragile, medically needy kids while the long-term volunteers are out of the country for two months, per their visa requirements.  My fleece?  Well, that's easy.  It's cost.  We don't have money to send me to India for 2 weeks.  The plane tickets are very expensive.  So.  I set out fleece for the Lord.  Ok, God.  If you want me to go this spring, you are just gonna have to drop the money in my lap.  That will be my "yes".  I will willingly, joyfully plan a trip and do the work of it if the money comes.  If it doesn't, I will willingly, joyfully continue on in my present capacity.  I will support, love, bless, help and pray for SCH and be most grateful to not interrupt my life or my family with such a stressful event. 

So there it is.  Pray if you feel led.  Wait and wonder if you are just plain curious.  I know I am.  Fleece is hard.  I'm not very good at it, but, honestly, it was the only thing that made sense.

Word from God Wednesday

There are no fresh Words or ah-ha moments for this Wednesday so I think I'll revisit an old one.  I accepted this one but didn't ponder it much so here goes.  At one point, as I was praying and asking the Lord, "what's next?  what's the plan?  what are we working on?" etc.  Somewhere in the deep place where I listen and hear the Lord, rather than argue and speak non-stop in prayer.....I heard this.  "Help and bless".  Can't you just hear it yourself?  Isn't that just like Jesus?  I can almost feel him sitting with me in comfy chairs at a coffee shop, and I want to discuss the big things, the life-changing moments, the next huge mountain or deep valley.....and he gently smiles, shrugs his shoulders and looks deep into my eyes and says, "just help.  just bless." 

Jesus is doing the big work.  He is setting up the life-changing moments, commanding all the battles in the Spirit realm, working out plans for the mountains and the valleys....and really....really?  He'd just like us to help once in awhile....and be a blessing when we can.  For me, in this season, it could mean:
1.  Help others who are lost, sad, searching, ready.
2.  Bless those who usually hear negative things all day long, by sharing kindness and a warm smile and words of praise.
3.  Help families pursuing adoption, to get what they need, and feel like they have support.
4.  Bless those who have heard a call and are following it.  Don't be jealous, just bless.
5.  Help your husband, your children, your parents and grandparents.
6.  Bless your friends, your pastor, your church, your work.
7.  Help yourself.  Take care of your body, mind and spirit.
8.  Bless those who are feeling low.  Be an encourager.  Make someone smile.
9.  Help Jesus do the work He will do until the day of completion.
10.  Bless every chance you can, all the time, every day.