A Time to Dance

It's All Good Hair...

2012-01-10T20:17:00.000-08:00

She's beautiful just the way she is. Each hair an uncanny reminder of who God made her to be. African, tightly wound, a coil of boundless energy, full of spunk, with a mind of her own, and wild. I'm glad I remembered that before we decided to change it.

Satan speaks his lies in the subtlest of ways. And he is relentless...and his lies so predictable. "You don't have what it takes to care for her," he whispers. He's been whispering this since the day she imprinted herself on my heart. Most of the time, I don't pay any attention. Most of time, I remember all of the ways that God has made her mine and marvel at the miracle of adoption.

But sometimes....sometimes, his whisper sneaks it's way inside. It wraps itself around my heart and I feel that familiar sadness. I feel all of the distance and the differences that separate her from me. The flesh and blood and DNA that prove that the miracle of her had nothing to do with me. And sometimes, in that state, I come up with ways to minimize the differences, and convince myself that it's best for all of us.

So, we almost relaxed Hope's hair last month. I came really close. I'm not saying we won't do it someday. I don't have firm feelings on whether it's right or wrong. I don't really think it's a moral issue. But, if we do it someday, it won't be so that I can avoid learning ALL I need to know to properly care for her naturally beautiful hair texture. And it certainly won't be so that I don't have to think about our differences.

I'm glad I was reminded that it doesn't honor Hope when I pretend we aren't different. Because we are. And most of the time, I remember that that is something to celebrate! I don't need us to be the same. I don't want us to be the same.

And besides, what does flesh and blood and DNA know about love, anyway?

Meme

2011-11-29T12:52:00.000-08:00

Disease is a thief. And this one steals your mind. Steals your memories.

She was my grandmother with the eye for fashion, lips always perfectly tinted to match her outfit, and rows of high heeled shoes that fit my feet when I was just a girl because they were so tiny. She was the one who smelled like flowers and had every color of nail polish imaginable. She is the reason my mom puts lotion on her feet every night, wears a silky robe in the mornings and likes her coffee black with just a bit of sugar.

She is still beautiful and beautifully dressed. Her feet are still tiny and soft after years of nightime lotioning. Nail polish still abounds. She still smells like flowers. But now, she is confused. She isn't sure who that lady is painting her nails. She isn't sure why she's dressing up today and who all these people are coming in and out of her house. She isn't sure where home is. And the man who cares for her every minute of every day? Sometimes he seems familiar and she knows they love each other, and sometimes she's scared of him, scared he's gonna take her away, or leave her. And why does he seem so sad?

We sit around and whisper about how sad it is. Tears come easy and we can't help wondering what her last memory of each of us was. Or will be.

This Thanksgiving, I should have spent more time just loving her, instead of wishing it was different. More time praying for her peace. More time loving on my grandfather who shoulders the lion's share of the load and whose heart breaks at the loss of her memories. All those years they shared...gone. I should have spent more time listening to my mom and my aunts and letting them say what we all feel. That we are already missing her and she isn't even gone yet.

But today I choose to be thankful. I am thankful for Meme. That she was the valedictorian of her high school graduating class. That she ran off and married my Dada without permission. That she stood by him while he was away at war. That she raised three beautiful daughters and taught them a thing or two about mothering, hard work, sass, and shopping. That she knew how to put together a killer meal. That she welcomed each grandchild and great grandchild with great joy. And that she loved Jesus.

She may not remember any of those things today. But those of us who love her do. And we're grateful.

Linking up with Just Write today.

The Coffee Shop

2011-11-08T08:12:00.000-08:00

A coffee shop is not a place for kids. I just took them in cause we had some time to kill before an event we were early for. Being early isn’t cool. I’ve been that person putting on the event when the early birds show up. Then you have to juggle frantically getting everything ready and also maintaining some kind of polite chit chat with the early birds. Not cool. But I’m getting off track.

I took them in just so we wouldn’t have to sit in the car. But, as soon as I said they could have a drink to share I knew I was in trouble. The stand-off that ensued was not all that unusual but today it was infuriating. Why can’t they be empathetic with each other. “What would you like to have, sister?” “Well, that’s not what I would prefer but I don’t always have to have things my way. Let’s have what you want this time.” Is that too much to ask from a 7 year old and 4 year old? Yes? Oh alright.

Then, the little one has her hands on everything. Perrier. Straws. Cookies. “Just stop!” I whisper yelled. I’m pretty good at whisper yelling. It is not my best feature.

Finally, we sit, and I realize that there is not one child, besides mine, in the entire shop. Instead it is filled with students. College students in study groups and adults who can’t be much older than the students, meeting together to have meaningful conversations, I’m sure. Occasionally they glance over at me and I try to play it cool. “Here I am with my kids. Totally not frazzled. Totally in control. Just having coffee. How sophisticated of me.” They aren’t buying it.

And neither am I. “We’ve got to get out of here," I say after the third potty break in 15 minutes. “Let’s get back in the car.” Cause our minivan is a haven for our crazy. And I'm not that sophisticated anyway.

Linking up with Just Write again. Loving the free writing exercises.

Hope

2011-11-03T12:06:00.000-07:00

She reminded us once that God's plans are always bigger and brighter than we could ever imagine. And that hope is the gift He gives when we look up from our brokenness. So that's what we named her. Hope.

She's the big sister. Always the teacher. The one who is more like a super hero to them. They bask in the light of her attention and she guides their way into fairy tales and bits of trouble. She is a born leader, and though it's clear she would prefer a dictatorship, even she has learned the art of being a leader people want to follow.

Her natural talent is astounding, her drive...eerie for a 7 year old ("almost 8!", she says). She attacks a hobby and masters it. Soccer, piano, gymnastics. She finds it hard to settle for less than the best and I admire her work ethic. But it also makes failure a hard pill to swallow. And I know we'll spend a good bit of her life assuring her, in ways that are subtle and in words that aren't, that her value lies in who God made her to be, who she already is. And praying...praying hard that she believes us, believes Him.

Cause who he made her to be is incredible. A little girl who knows what she wants and goes for it, but who also has eyes to see those who are ignored or overlooked and a heart to do something about it. She has her daddy's sense of humor and my love of the dramatic. And some crazy wicked dance moves to boot.

She was my first little girl, the one who taught me what it meant to be a mom, the one who continues to teach me what little girls need. Only she's not so little anymore. And apparently 8 is the new 10, and even my lack of clocks in the house won't make time go any slower. So instead I walk alongside her after school as she fills me in on her life apart from me, happy to be the hand she still holds on the way home.

Halloween 84,000 years ago. 2 yrs old

Lookin a little more like this now.

Isabella

2011-10-27T21:12:00.000-07:00

Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh. Our feet kick at the piles of leaves as we walk hand in hand up to her school. She smiles at some thought she's had and I notice again that she is a miniature me. She looks like a child I could have carried in my womb. I'm struck again by the wonder of that.

But there are other things, too. Her heart mirrors my own in so many ways. Her love of books and music. Her domestic streak. The way she wears her feelings on her sleeve. Her penchant for lying to get out of trouble, which is really more about being afraid to disappoint than it is fear of the consequences. Hers is a heart that will be broken because she dares to share it. I just know it. And my heart winces preemptively at the thought.

She has grown up this year before our very eyes. Limbs have grown long and lean, a ballerina's body, and in her face we have started to see glimpses of the grown up girl she will be. A girl who moves into life slowly, more thoughtful, in a way that makes room for the hopes and dreams of others.

Sweet Bella, we've called her. A name that means beauty. She wears it well.

Linking up with Just Write this week. Trying something new! You should too!

Ava

2011-10-26T22:12:00.000-07:00

Her name means breath of life. And that's exactly what she is.

I love every bit of her reckless heart and the way she grabs at life with all the delicacy of a UFC fighter. I love that she has a soft spot for the curve of my neck and whispers, "I lub you, mama" like it's a secret just between us.

She is full of words now. Full of songs, even. And full of mischief, as always. Those eyes tell me, have always told me, she knows more than we think. And her pace tells me that our days of pretending she is a baby are numbered.

Nothing but gratitude for the extravagant gift of Ava Elizabeth Marey.

Sisters

2011-10-21T13:08:00.000-07:00

Apparently, Hope has been teaching Bella after they go to bed. "School" they call it. Today at the breakfast table they were explaining it to me. When the door to the stairway shuts, that is the bell for their school to begin. They work on numbers and letters. Last night they talked about the number eight. Then, at recess, they draw pictures (on each other's backs) and try to guess what they are. And then, because Hope is always ready for sleep sooner than Bella, they have a little ritual. Bella gets scared after Hope falls asleep, so she is allowed to pick either Hope's arm, her hair, or her back to play with until she drifts off.

How long will these games last? THIS is why I wanted the girls to share a room, even share a bed. I can remember doing things like this with my little sister long after we were supposed to be asleep. Tent making with the bedspread, trying not to laugh while she poked at my ticklish armpits, and making words on each other's backs. And even though my parents may have preferred that we go straight to sleep, they are memories that have lasted over the years. Such sweet moments to remember again and again.

I'm so thankful they have this time with each other and I promise I will try and remember that when I have climbed the stairs once again to tell them to go to sleep.

My Soul Finds Rest

2011-10-10T12:38:00.000-07:00

This is my new favorite song. For one thing, it is a modern hymn, and hymns have a special place in my heart. I love the deep truths they convey and the simple structure of their composition. And, in a lot of ways, they're like old friends. I grew up with hymns and singing them now reminds me of where my faith in Christ began.

But I also love this song because it speaks to that deep ache in me for rest. The imagery that David uses in Psalm 62 of God as a fortress, a mighty rock, a refuge, reminds me that I can rest in him, the One who can't be shaken. For me, in the midst of all that competes for my attention, the call to rest in God alone faithfully finds its way to the surface again and again. In this song, I hear His call again, loud and clear. An irresistible invitation.

So, as I start a new year (35, in case your wondering), that's what I wanna be about. Finding rest in God alone, My Delight and My Reward.

Psalm 62 (My Soul Finds Rest)
My soul finds rest in God alone,
My Rock and my salvation,
A fortress strong against my foes,
And I will not be shaken.
Though lips may bless and hearts may curse,
And lies like arrows pierce me,
I’ll fix my heart on righteousness,
I’ll look to Him who hears me.

O praise Him, hallelujah, My Delight and my Reward;
Everlasting, never failing, My Redeemer, my God.

Find rest, my soul, in God alone
Amid the world’s temptations;
When evil seeks to take a hold
I’ll cling to my salvation.
Though riches come and riches go,
Don’t set your heart upon them;
The fields of hope in which I sow
Are harvested in heaven.

I’ll set my gaze on God alone,
And trust in Him completely;
With every day pour out my soul,
And He will prove His mercy.
Though life is but a fleeting breath,
A sigh too brief to measure,
My King has crushed the curse of death
And I am His forever.

O praise Him, hallelujah, My Delight and my Reward;
Everlasting, never failing, My Redeemer, my God.

Listen here if you want. You'll love it!

Thankful Tuesday

2011-09-20T08:14:00.000-07:00

It's Thankful Tuesday again! I think this could become a regular thing. I'm thankful:

for the two littlest ones playing upstairs for an hour with no incident (i.e. mischief or fighting).
for a new dining room going up next door at my friend's house. Evidence of the Lord's provision and his understanding of the desires of our hearts
for friends who are committed to praying for me and my family
for Gaby, Hope's new friend, who, "is super fun and the same color as me, mom! And has awesome hair." And for many more play dates to come.
for sweet muscles appearing on my arms and legs thanks to Crossfit and my friend, Ian Sturgeon
for my husband, who started researching calcium rich foods when the doctor told me my bones could use a little help
and for Isaiah 40, read in it's entirety in church on Sunday which reminded me of so many things, not the least of which was, "he gently leads those who have young." Thank goodness!

What are you thankful for?

On Homies and Homeschooling

2011-09-07T12:11:00.000-07:00

Last year, two of my very best friends started homeschooling their kids. I tried to be supportive and very "you have to do whatever is best for you" on the outside. On the inside, though, I was panicking. What did this mean about me? If God called them to homeschool their kids, what did it mean about me that I didn't feel that calling? If they gave, as one of their reasons, a desire to spend more time with their kids, what did it mean about me that I chose to send mine to school every day? And the truth is that for a while there, I wanted them to send their kids to school so I didn't have to question my own decisions. (It's possible that at this point you might see how self-involved I can be. It's not pretty, people.)

In the end I learned a few things, though. First, there aren't decisions in life that shouldn't be questioned. I had to take a good long look at why I would choose to put my kids into public school and I found that knowing the reasons why gave me a greater sense of purpose. I'm not just picking up Hope from school anymore. I see her playground as a place to connect and interact with people who need Jesus. I'm trying to use every experience that Hope has with "worldly thinking" (and they are plentiful!) to teach her about Jesus' counter-cultural message. I'm talking to her about how important it is to know that each person she meets has value bestowed on them by God, regardless of how similar or different they are than us. And we're talking about seeing the beauty that God has placed in each person and how it tells us about Him. Each interaction we have at school, or regarding school is infused with an opportunity to glorify God. I'm not sure I really understood that before.

I've also learned how precious to God my desperate cries for protection and boldness and mercy are on behalf of my kids. He knows about letting a Son go into a world that would seek to trample on the truths he clung to. As my friend, Amy says, "It's no small thing to send your kids off to school." It takes some guts to send your most precious gifts off to interact with people who may or may not see all the beauty inside of them, who may or may not see all that is fragile, too. But, I am learning how to pray and, with knuckles sore from tightly clenching that which is not mine, open my hands and give them over time and time again to the God who created every part of who they are. I am grateful for this opportunity to remember that they are His.

And I've learned all of us are afraid we're making the wrong decisions. We all worry that our kids will be bruised and battered no matter what we choose. And we're probably right. Almost no one gets through childhood unscathed. But, no matter what we choose, we get to look into the eyes of these we call friends and tell them that God's grace is sufficient. That he can redeem it all and use it all to draw our children to himself. And that's all any of us really wants for our kids.

And being friends means that we want it for each other's kids, too. So we get the responsibility and the privilege of praying for each of these little people who are growing up with our own. We pray hard that they will each find their way to the arms of Jesus, and would follow him with everything they've got. And in a way that only scheming mothers are familiar with, we pray that they might get to enjoy the journey, together. Just like us.

Thankful Tuesday!

2011-09-06T12:25:00.000-07:00

In the tradition of my friend, Micha, over at Mama Monk it's Thankful Tuesday. And I could use some thankfulness in my life. How bout you?

I'm thankful for fresh peaches, bought at a roadside stand yesterday, so good that half the box is gone this morning.

I'm thankful for cooler temperatures..the coming of fiery colored trees and fresh apples and bright orange pumpkins.

I'm thankful for impromtu family dance parties where the seven year old schools the rest of us in some fresh hip hop moves.

I'm thankful for a desire to write and the feeling that soon I will have something to say.

For weddings, and the reminder they are of my own vows and the beautiful life I have with my beloved.

I'm thankful for my four year old who counts, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7,8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 14, 18, 19, 20", reminding me that she isn't quite grown up, even though the sight of her with a backpack on makes my melodramatic heart scream, "It's happening too fast!!!!"

I'm thankful for friends who call to remind me that parenting requires courage, heart, and lots of prayer. And that it does not have much use at all for the approval of others.

I'm thankful for an almost 2 year old who believes that every loud noise is a reason to bless someone. And I'm thankful that today, when she said, "Bless you, Mama!" God clearly said to me, "Yes. Bless you, Mama."

What about you? What are you thankful for?

Summer Camp Wrap Up

2011-06-29T13:15:00.001-07:00

For some people, it's hard to understand why we would pack our little family up and move for three weeks into a one room apartment (minus the kitchen) an hour and half away from where we live. And then watch our husband/daddy work his little buns off being a goofball and a song leader and a part of the amazing team of people who pull out all the stops to put on an awesome camp...over and over and over and over. And I can understand that. There are things about it that are hard. Well...mostly just the one room part. But, you will always catch me saying that it is one of our favorite times of the year. And this year was no different.

I knew it would be great, like always, but what I didn't anticipate this year was how much fun it would be to see our kids really start to get it. I mean, sure, there are plenty of reasons for them to love camp. It's a fantasy land for them! (well, let's be honest, it is for me to...no cooking, very little cleaning, nothing but time on my hands...dreamy!) They have dessert at every meal, the enraptured attention of every high school and college student there, a party every night, a swimming pool, a giant sand pit (er...volleyball court), and three times a day a group of crazies dressed up in costume come out and entertain them, one of them being their rock star dad. My kids are famous at camp by proxy. What's not to love?

But, what was neat this year was seeing them begin to understand why it is the way it is. Why all the fuss? One day I found Hope and Bella working at the welcome. They were welcoming kids to camp, giving high-fives to everyone as they got off the bus and then helping to carry all their luggage to their rooms. It was such a precious sight to see them serving kids and such a great opportunity to talk about how serving others shows them a little bit of who Jesus is, and how much these kids need to know Him.

During the first week of camp when kids got up on the last morning to share that they had decided to follow Jesus, Hope turned to me, wide eyed, and said, "Look at them all mom. All those kids are following Jesus?" I told her yes and she shook her head and said, "Wow!" After that, we decided to work on meeting a few kids each week and begin praying for them by name. It was so fun to watch her looking for those kids each week on that last day. Looking to see if they would get up and then catching my eye every time one did and pointing them out. It was so cool for them to see God working and to feel like they were a part of that.

I'm so grateful for this time. Grateful to be together, loving and being loved on by people we are only connected to through Christ, but who become like family for three weeks. Grateful that every year it reminds me to be awake to God's heart for the lost and his pursuit of us. And so grateful that my kids are experiencing the joy of watching someone else meet Jesus for the first time.

We came home with happy sighs of contentment. Happy to be back in this lovely place where God has called us, and happy to have spent three weeks in the mountains meeting new friends and watching him turn hearts made of stone into hearts made of flesh and full of Him. And, I'm not gonna lie, kinda happy we don't have to see Loren dressed up like a pirate again any time soon. Ava was especially happy for that. :)

Camp

2011-06-16T10:16:00.000-07:00

We've been hanging out this month at Quaker Ridge WYLdlife camp in Woodland Park, CO. You may remember that we spent June here last year as well. We are already halfway through our assignment and it's been as fun as always. Here are some pictures to give you a glimpse of our time.

We've been doing lots of dressing like pirates...

lots of swimming...

lots of helping...

lots of laughing...

lots of karoke...

lots of hanging upside down...

lots of watching and waiting...

and lots of napping...(although some of us haven't had nearly as much as we needed)

What a gift it is to be a part of this ministry! More to come on what God is teaching our family this month as we get to be a part of reaching out to middle school students on his behalf.

Ava

2011-05-28T08:39:00.001-07:00

I have done enough gushing about my amazing kids on this site that I have no doubt you know how much we love them. With that in mind, let me just say that my youngest is about to do me in. All along we have said that she is...ahem...an independent child. Let me just cut the crap and tell you that what that honestly means is that for a good part of each day...meaning the part that she is awake...we are in constant disaster prevention mode. Or, if we aren't thorough enough in that mode, disaster clean-up/discipline/prevent the next disaster mode. All with a grand helping of fit throwing, foot stomping, scowling baby syndrome. Ava...not me.

Now, don't get me wrong. We have plenty of hugs and kisses and it is no exaggeration that Ava is, quite possibly, the funniest person in our house...which is saying a lot! And, not accidentally funny. She is hilarious on purpose and has a kind of charm that is both delightful and infuriating when you are trying to discipline. She has such a big personality and is such a fun little girl. But she is also stubborn and LOUD and kind of mean sometimes. (She's a hitter, folks, and I have no idea why she thinks it's okay to regularly smack people on the head! We do not smack her on the head.) I am at my wit's end so often that I had started to believe that my wit's end is actually where I live. And then...I had a memory. It was of me 6 years ago, calling Loren one day in tears. And what I managed to squeak out was my fears that I was an awful, rage-full person and a terrible mother. That my one and half year old (Hope, in case you haven't figured that out)was driving me crazy and that I felt so angry that she would never listen and that somehow her little brain already knew where all of my buttons were and she took sick pleasure in methodically pushing them until I was at the brink of insanity.

Thankfully, he laughed. And told me that I wasn't a rage-full person. In fact, I think he even told me I was a very patient mother, which I did not feel at all at the time, and that we had a very "independent" little girl who just needed consistent, loving discipline. And he assured me that one day she wouldn't be so unreasonable all the time. Then I felt my insides unclench and relax as he assured me that I was perfectly capable of raising this child because I had Jesus and I had him. We could, the three of us, do it together. I knew that was true.

I am immensely comforted by that memory today...as it is only 10am and Ava has already spilled cereal all over the floor, dipped her toothbrush in the toilet and then sucked the toilet water off of it, and screamed at me half a dozen times. I can do it. Cause I have Jesus and I have Loren. And cause, come on....look at this face.

She is totally worth it!

Baccalaureate

2011-05-27T07:16:00.001-07:00

Last night I went to Canon City's high school Baccalaureate. (Who can ever spell that word without looking it up?) It made me proud to see some of our Young Life kids who are graduating up on stage. Because, gone are the days when Baccalaureate is a required part of graduation week. Now, it is entirely student led (heaven forbid the school system would allow a teacher to get involved) and entirely voluntary. And really, it's probably better that way. These students are declaring to the few of us that come (mostly parents a few youth leaders) that they follow Christ and that they want to depend on him even after they leave the nest. They lead us in worship which, to me, is a really cool symbol of them taking ownership of their faith and a really good reminder that they have as much to offer me as I have to offer them in this journey with Christ. And then someone, a trusted mentor, gets to stand and speak to them and encourage them to pursue Christ and find life in him alone. And we all get to pray over them. I try not to miss it.

Yesterday, I sat in the auditorium and watched as the kids came and gave their parents flowers as a way to say thanks for all you've done to get me to this point. And I remembered that two years ago, I watched as several boys came over to my husband and handed him their flowers. They were joking and laughing like high school boys do when they are embarrassed, but I sat beside Loren misty-eyed. Because I knew that these boys didn't have parents who cared about their faith. And they hadn't come to this service. For these boys, Loren was the one who told them about Jesus. And it made perfect sense to make a bee-line to him when it came time to thank someone.

It made me thankful for Young Life and a ministry whose mission is to reach out to those kids who don't even know they need Jesus, until they find him. And it made me thankful for my husband, whose heart can't help but love those kids. And mostly, it made me thankful that Christ doesn't need anything but a willing heart to redeem a broken story.

Just The Two Of Us

2011-05-10T12:05:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, my husband caught me totally and completely off guard. He told me on a Sunday that we were leaving that Friday for a 5 day vacation. Just the two of us. Did you read that right? Just. The. Two. Of. Us.

He had it all planned. His parents were coming to watch the girls. He had the mysterious vacation all set up, and my friends would be packing for me. I needn't worry about a thing. I had no idea where we were going. I sent a text to one of my friends that day and told her what was happening. "Yay for romance!" she texted back. Indeed!

On Friday we drove to Denver, and Saturday morning we caught the red eye to Houston. Now, I love Texas as much as a girl from there should, but I remember thinking that if we were spending our vacation in Houston, Texas, I was gonna have to seriously work hard on finding a little enthusiasm. Luckily, as I came around the corner in the airport, I saw a sign for the shuttle to Carnival Cruiseline and I figured it all out!

Loren and I had always wanted to take a cruise so I was super excited. But, I have to say, I was way more excited just to be with my man for 5 days straight of uninterrupted time together. That, my friends, is luxury enough when you have kids.

It was so great just to be together and have conversations and relax and remember that there is so much to enjoy about each other. And when it was over, we were ready to come back. In fact, on the fourth night I told Loren that one thing I was thankful for was that we don't have to take trips like this as a way to escape our life, because we love our life. Instead, we get to take this opportunity to get away, and connect and remember why we love it in the first place.

Yay for romance!

>

Holy Saturday

2011-04-23T07:48:00.000-07:00

This book has been an amazing meditation for Lent and I would highly recommend it for anyone next year. Here is an excerpt from today's reading of Reliving the Passion by Walter Wangerin, Jr.

Mary, do this:

Even in your despair, observe the rituals. It is the Sabbath; then let it be the Sabbath after all. Pray your prayers. However hollow and unsatisfying they may feel, God can fill them. God is God, who made the world from nothing--and God as God can still astonish you.....

One story is done indeed, my Magdalene. You're right. You've entered the dark night of the soul.

But another story--one you cannot conceive of (it's God who conceives it!)--starts at sunrise. And the empty time between, while you sadly prepare the spices, is in fact preparing you! Soon you will change. Soon you will become that holy conundrum which must baffle and antagonize the world: a saint. Saint Mary Magdelene.....

Come again on Sunday, Mary, and see how it is that God makes saints.

Come, follow.

Africa -Post 6

2011-04-12T13:02:00.000-07:00

I'm home!!!!!! And there is no place quite like home. I got a great greeting from my family and it was so good to see their faces and hug their bodies. Hope told me she muscled up just so she could give me the tightest hug ever. And she did.

And, I just have to say, while I was gone, there weren't any more well cared for kids on the planet. They had a great time with their daddy and told me all the fun things they did together. I prayed a lot that this time together would be a blessing for them. And it was! Then, Grandma and Grandpa came, and totally spoiled them. And, our friends stepped in and took turns having them over, making them dinner, and loving on them. We are totally blessed.

Now...for Africa. The last part of our adventures in Africa were the stuff of movies. We went to Zanzibar which is this beautiful little island just off the coast of Tanzania. It's a big touristy place for a lot of reasons, but one of them is the East African Slave Trade Museum. It was kind of unbelievable to walk through that museum and hear details about the slave trade in East Africa.

The next morning we got up and flew to Arusha in Northern Tanzania, where we had reservations at a safari lodge there. It was a beautiful place, very cool (which was such a nice change of pace) and very tropical. There were tea times mid afternoon, slippers to jump into at the door, a shower inside (and one outside if you choose!), etc. You get the idea. Not your everyday kind of place. It was a great place to hang out and process a little of what we had experienced.

And, of course, then we went on safari! We went to Ngorogoro Crater, which is a lovely, very green, conservation area where there are literally thousands of wildlife. I had to keep telling myself that these animals were not brought in, like at the zoo, that they LIVE here for real! Giraffs, elephants, hundreds of zebras, lions (and cubs, too), wildebeest, impala, rhinoceros, hippos, storks....and on and on. We spent all day in the crater and saw so many animals. It was amazing and I so wished my family could have seen it, too. They would've loved it!

And then, it was time to go home. And I was ready to be home.

What an amazing opportunity it is to experience another part of the world and to see how God expands your heart for people. I told Dyan before we left that, before this trip, I almost didn't have a category in my brain for Africa. It was filed somewhere under miscellaneous, along side investment banking and topography. And part of what this trip did, was make it real to me. Seeing the landscape, learning about the culture, and hearing the stories about how God is moving gave me a connection. And it'll change how I think and pray and live out my calling.

I was struck by something over there. As Americans we do a lot of work in Africa. There are thousands of missions trips, lots of world relief-type things, lots of ministering that goes on. And those are usually good things. There is great need and we are called, as believers, to help. The words that have followed me home, though, are this: As believers in America, we need believers in Africa. We need their freedom and joy in worship (how is it that we can worship without smiling?). We need their boldness and their willingness to give all they have to share the gospel. We need their deep understanding of need. They have so much to teach us. And I'm glad I get the opportunity to learn.

I really am gonna put some pictures up, but I'm trying to put them in a slide show....we'll see how that goes. :)

Africa - Post 5

2011-04-03T14:50:00.000-07:00

April 3

It has been an incredibly full two days. And tonight was all about celebration. The women came to dinner in their national dress and it was amazing to see them all decked out. Matilda, from Kenya, put a scarf on my head and wrapped it all around like they do. Then, when I tried to give it back to her she said it was mine to keep. Such a sweet gift, and it is seriously beautiful.

At the end of club tonight, Shelley and I taught the women the song we always end with at our Women’s Young Life retreat in Colorado. I don’t know what possessed me to think I could sing that song in that particular room full of women and not cry my eyes out. But, what a holy moment. The song, if you don’t know it, talks about how God changes our names. That we are no longer called Wounded, Outcast, Lonely or Afraid. And to look out and see these women, so many, if not all, who HAVE been wounded and cast out, and certainly are lonely and often afraid. Well…it was just a powerful moment.

Then, after we had the “say so” (don’t forget we are basically at a Young Life camp), where the women shared how God had spoken to them this weekend, they prayed for us, the American team. They put us in the middle of the room and all prayed at the same time in all their languages and it was BEAUTIFUL! Then, they started singing in Swahili, “May you be blessed.” And they sang it over and over and over. I forced myself to open my eyes and look into the eyes on each of these women as they sang, even though I knew it would make me cry again. And it did. :) I will never, ever forget it.

And then, like any good Young Life camp, we ended with a dance party. Glow sticks, rockin music, and some of the best moves I’ve seen in a long time.

So much has happened in the last two days. Good conversations, new friendships, and encouraging one another in ministry. Tonight, so many of the women said to each other, “I thought I was alone. I thought the problems we had in ministry were only my problems. Now I know that I am not alone. That we can work together to solve our problems.” That is huge, and really the purpose for this whole weekend. That these women would connect and build these kinds of friendships that will encourage them in ministry. Thank you so much for your prayers!

The stories I have to tell are incredible. These women are crying out to God on behalf of Africa. They are in the trenches and reaching out, across cultural lines, across races, across traditions for the sake of Christ. They are heroes. No doubt about it.

Tomorrow, we head to Zanzibar and Arusha to do some touristy things. I can’t wait to sleep in a bit and just be with my buddies as we process a little of what we have seen and felt this weekend. We’re not taking our computers, so this is probably my last update til we get home.

Ahhhh….home. I can’t wait for that either.

Africa - Post 4

2011-04-01T12:22:00.000-07:00

April 1

Wow! Wow! Wow! All of the women are finally here!!! And I think today I may have seen the best Young Life welcome ever! We greeted the buses of African women with a local wedding band, a parade of their national flags, a Young Life bag full of goodies, cookies and punch, and hugs and high fives all around. And they greeted us with a dance party that went on for 15 minutes, despite the crazy, sun beating down, sweat pouring down, heat. They were so excited to be here, to see each other, and to soak up this time. We just tried to jump right in and hold on!

Not long after everyone arrived, we began to set up outside for dinner. We brought little treats to put on their plates every night, so tonight we put their YL Africa Women’s Leadership Summit t-shirt at their places. Then, we sat down to a catered Tanzanian dinner that was so yummy and fellowship that was even more sweet! I sat with three women from Swaziland, a teeny tiny country right in the middle of South Africa, and a leader from Zimbabwe, who is originally from South Africa. We talked really frankly about racism, way more frankly than whites and blacks talk in America, and it was such a neat thing to hear Rentia share how she felt the Lord moved her and her husband to Zimbabwe, to get rid of the racism she had grown up with. “We are all the same,” she said, “just different colors!”

Then, at our first club tonight, Benga, from the Congo, led us in worship in the style of Zimbabwe, Liberia, Ethiopia, Congo, and America. And we’re just getting started! When I say “style” what I mean is that we sing worship songs that are native to their country and they get up and lead the singing and a kind of dance to go along with it. It is worship that is so filled with joy! Then, Shelley brought back Kippy, a character she used in program for the African All Staff Conference in 2008 (where this trip was dreamed up), and partnered with Esther, from Kenya, to introduce her to YL program by making her, Kimmy, Kippy’s twin sister. They were hilarious and were able to get a few women up front with a silly game. Irene and Agnes, both from Dar es Salaam, shared their testimony about how they have served in Young Life as mother and daughter. Ann Shack, from our team, spoke tonight on the woman at the well and did a fabulous job as well. It’s amazing how, even though the languages and songs are different, there is so much that is the same. There is no doubt we are in Young Life territory. I can’t overstate what a gift it is for us to be here and hear their stories. We are in Africa, yall! And Young Life is alive and kicking!

Here’s the one major thing that has stood out to me all day. These Christian women here in Africa, are among some of the most joy filled people I have ever met. There is a sense of freedom that feels precious and rare to me amongst women. And, frankly, considering their stories of oppression, and the difficult lives that many of them lead, it is hard to understand. Except that, “he who the Son has set free, is free indeed.” These women are a testament to God’s grace and his abundant life! And I want to be more of a testament to that!

And…just so I don’t forget. Someone remind me to tell you about the problem with having women leaders in Young Life Africa and why teachers and Young Life leaders can almost never be the same person. Did I leave you with a random cliff hanger or what?!?!

Pictures to come soon....

Africa - Post 3

2011-03-31T14:05:00.000-07:00

March 31

I woke up with the sun today, which was definitely the jet lag talking and not my natural pattern. :) But, I was so grateful that I got a full 8 hours of sleep. It was just what I needed and today I felt totally adjusted.

Since I was up and there was a gorgeous sunrise over the ocean coming through the window, I just had to get out there. I mean, I had almost been in Dar for 15 hours and I hadn’t set foot on the beach yet! So, the girls and I got up and set out for the beach. But first, we grabbed some coffee. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but once we were outside, we realized that it was already 85 degrees and drinking hot coffee was kind of like asking your body to sweat profusely.

We walked for a while and I even dipped my toes in the Indian Ocean. It was so warm and I can’t wait to suit up and go for a swim!

Then, we started prepping for the conference. We had lots of goody bags to assemble, lots of planning meetings, and just a lot of little touches to get ready. You know, one of my favorite things about Young Life is that things are really done with excellence. We try and show the extravagance and abundance of God’s love by offering the very best to people. It’s no different here in Africa. We are hoping to give these women a weekend full of extravagant encouragement and love, just like they give the kids they work with. What a privilege it is to do that!

Shortly after lunch, THE WOMEN STARTED ARRIVING! Some of the ladies, ones that are on the Senior African Leadership Team (SALT) came in early to help us get everything ready. So, today I met Ubdi(from Somolia), Jokebed, Deborah and her adorable 9 mo. old son Fillibert(from Mali), Esther and Matilda (from Kenya), and Mwamini and her hubby, Benga, who’s helping with worship, from Democratic Republic of the Congo. We are just getting to know each other. But, just seeing them made me teary. I can hardly believe they are here! In a lot of cases, many obstacles had to be overcome just to get them here. But they are here and so excited!

We had a wonderful dinner all together and I had this moment where it felt like God said, “remember this.” So I took a little snapshot in my mind…since it would’ve been weird to pull out my camera at that point. :)

I’m missing my family pretty good at this point. Just missing sharing all of this with them and missing their tangible presence. I’m gonna need some serious hugs and kisses when I get back. But, I am absolutely where I am supposed to be. No doubt about it. And I know how special it is to have a husband and friends who said, “Go.” And to know without question that they are praying and loving my kids well. So, I can miss them, but I know I don’t have to worry. What a gift!

Keep praying! The Summit starts tomorrow and we are trying to figure out the balance of serving in a behind the scenes way that sets the women up to receive encouragement from each other first and therefore builds community. We are the hands and feet, the means by which this conference is happening...the African women are the face. It's THEIR conference. Make sense? Oh they need this so much...this time of fellowship with each other. This gathering of women leaders, women who follow Christ into dark places. Pray that it is all He desires it to be.

Africa Pictures

2011-03-30T22:49:00.000-07:00

Here are just a FEW pictures from our trip so far.

Me and Amanda (Kolman and Corley, we are called) on the plane to Dar. Corley was responsible for all the logistics of our trip and she did an amazing job. I would have been in the fetal position somewhere if I had to do all that!

On the beach this morning! So warm, so beautiful!
The view from the veranda. The garden, the gates, and if you look closely beyond that, the ocean. Yep! It's amazing!
More of the veranda. This was the sangria that awaited us before dinner, and the hanging bed that I am determined to take a nap in later.
My bunk when we arrives. Dyan had put these beautiful flowers in the towels, given us a book called Mama Dar with a little note in it, and some gorgeous textiles. Can't wait to show those off!

Africa - Post 2

2011-03-30T12:47:00.000-07:00

March 30

I got to see a little more of Ethiopa this morning before we had to leave for the airport. First of all, coffee with hot milk in the hotel café….seriously delicious. Then, on our trip back to the airport I got to really see downtown Addis Ababa. Shelley tells me that it is against the law in Ethiopia to be in debt. So, there are a LOT of buildings downtown that are in various stages of completeness. Like, maybe half. She says that the people get some money and start building and then run out of money and have to stop until they can get more. And there are just people everywhere. It is a bustling city.

Our flight went smoothly to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, and we got our visas with no problem. Steve Larmey (vice president of Young Life Africa) picked us up at the airport and about 10 minutes outside his home, had a little surprise for us. He stopped the car and told us that he had arranged for tuktuks (a local mode of transportation…think a golf cart meets a jeep) to take us the rest of the way. We jumped in and bumped our way to his AMAZING home.

He and his wife Dyan (and their 4 kids Tasfye, Zoe, Caleb, and Epiphany) live in what they call “The Conference Center.” Basically, when they moved here, they tried to find a place big enough to live in as well as host trainings, conferences, YL staff, etc. year round). It’s a big place, right on the ocean, and that, coupled with their generosity and big open hearts, make it a haven for staff all over Africa. Dyan greeted us with hibiscus juice (yum!) and we all chatted it up for a couple of hours. At that point, my brain went a little fuzzy and I knew I needed a nap before dinner. I guess that’s jet lag, right?

Sangria on the veranda, and a toast at sunset, before a lovely dinner tonight and now we are unpacking the 12 (!) extra bags of goodies we brought.

Here are some of my thoughts today. First, I used to imagine Africa as all rural. Villages, farms, tribal, etc. Then, when I read up on Dar es Salaam, where we are, I thought it would be more city-like. The funny thing is, it isn’t really one or the other. It is BOTH at the same time, all smooshed together. We drove in bumper to bumper traffic today and waited as a herd of goats crossed the highway. There are high end wedding dress shops, next to produce stands. Huts and “lean-to” type homes, next to colonial mansions. Traditional African dressed people, next to people in stilettos and skinny jeans. All of it…together. And there’s something I really like about that.

Secondly, the heat. Think Houston in the middle of summer minus the breeze. Wow! Seriously hot. But, I’m already adjusting and getting used to it. Lots of water, loose clothing, flip flops. I’m soaking up the sun and it is making me extra excited to jump in the ocean at the first chance I get.

Third, as we’ve talked to Dyan today about her hopes and dreams for this Women’s Summit, I’m struck by how huge this feels for her. On this continent, where women are not appreciated, where they are paid for when they marry, where they are often looked at as liabilities rather than leaders, to have a place where their leadership in ministry is acknowledged, celebrated, and encouraged has the potential to be a serious gift. And our coming and giving them ministry advice, or trinkets, or a high five for the work they do is NOT the gift. The gift is for them to be amongst other African women, and to share their stories, and to connect in ways that have the potential to break down the walls that divide them so that authentic friendships can develop. Friendships that will have a far greater impact in the long run, than the 4 days they spend with the 5 of us Americans.

Pray, pray, pray for these women during this time. There are walls of division among peoples and tribes here, even among these Christian women, and it is a hindrance to them developing the kind of community that will further the work they do so faithfully. Pray they will be open to receive what the Lord has, and open to receive each other in authentic community.

I feel like, right now, I am still taking it all in. There is too much to remember, too much to hold in my heart, and I’m not certain what to do with it all right now. So, I’m just trying to stay alert to what God has for me here. And that’s a lot of work…a lot of stimulation for a tired lady. But, His presence is palpable. So tonight, I’m resting in that. And in a peace that passes all understanding.

Africa - Post 1

2011-03-30T11:59:00.000-07:00

March 29

We are finally settling in for a few hours sleep at a hotel near the airport in Ethiopia before heading out in the morning for Dar Es Salaam, Tanzania. The flights were really not bad at all. It was a loooooong day of travel. But, good company, good movies (Secratariat, Morning Glory, and The King’s Speech), lots of great talks, and here we are.

I must have been running on adrenaline most of the flight over because I seriously could not sleep…even when I knew it was 3 in the morning “our time.” I hear that’s good though. It’s good to go into your first night really tired, so that you sleep really well. That’s what I’m hoping, anyway.

Not gonna lie…I got a little teary when we crossed over into Africa. Out my window on the plane, I saw the exact moment that we entered this vast dessert. Gorgeous and sandy and as far as the eye could see. And then, a surprise to me, tropical Ethiopia. It is beautiful and lush here. The people we’ve met are so friendly, and so beautiful! Seriously gorgeous…ALL OF THEM!

I’m struggling a little with their eagerness to serve me, though. I know I don’t really deserve that. And certainly not just because I’m American. But, being an American in Ethiopia is a big deal. Don’t tell homeland security, but I kind of hate that. The really sweet guy who stamped my passport asked if I was American. When I said yes, he put his hand on his heart and told me that it was his dream, to someday go and live there. What I wanted to say was, “Eh…it’s not all that great. We’ve got serious problems.” And tell him that he had a beautiful country, which I know also has it’s problems. But, instead I just said, “Well, come on. We’d love to have you.” He doesn’t need to hear my diatribe on the false gods of America.

I love it here already. I’ve barely set foot on African soil, (mostly thanks to a wait in the Ethopian airport of 3 (!) hours trying to get a simple transit visa in order to drive 5 miles to our hotel, check in for 7 hours and then leave) but I am totally giddy. And tired…so tired….

….headed to bed.

Africa

2011-03-21T19:30:00.000-07:00

A little guest post on mama:monk today on why I'm headed to Africa in a week. Pop on over and check it out.

Jesus Talk

2011-03-17T20:32:00.000-07:00

This morning, in devotions, this bit of chatter occurred amongst our family:

Loren: (reading out of Matthew) "Then, Jesus was led out into the desert to be tempted."

Bella: Did you say "tooting" giggle giggle

Loren: no...tempted

Bella: Oh....giggle giggle giggle...tooting

Hope: giggle giggle giggle

Then later tonight:

Hope: Mom, do you think Jesus really tooted?

Me: Yes, of course. Everyone does, right?

Hope: (hesitantly) I guess.............that's weird to think about.

Me: ...........yeah.........it kind of is, isn't it? giggle giggle giggle

We are sooooooo spiritual. :)

Why I celebrate Lent

2011-03-15T14:39:00.000-07:00

An excerpt from Reliving the Passion: Meditations on the Suffering, Death, and Resurrection of Jesus as Recorded in Mark by Walter Wangerin Jr. :

"[For the disciples] death reigned everywhere.

Death alone.

But in the economy of God, what seems the end is but a preparation. For it is, now, to that attitude and into that experience that the dear Lord Jesus Christ appears--not only an astonishment, gladness and affirmation, but joy indeed!

It is the experience of genuine grief that prepares for joy.

You see? The disciples approached the Resurrection from their bereavement. For them the death was first, and the death was all. Easter, then, was an explosion of Newness, a marvelous splitting of heaven indeed. But for us, who return backward into the past, the Resurrection comes first, and through it we view a death which is, therefore, less consuming, less horrible, even less real. We miss the disciples' terrible, wonderful preparation.

Unless, as now, we attend to the suffering first, to the cross with sincerest pity and vigilant love, to the dying with most faithful care--and thus prepare for joy."

I AM NOT potty training...yet

2011-02-21T20:09:00.001-08:00

Let me just say right off the bat that I AM NOT potty training Ava any time soon. She is 16 months old and there are definitely people out there that would tell me to go for it. It's all the rage. Potty training earlier and earlier. But, I don't have the stamina. I just don't. I like to wait until they can say, "Excuse me, mom. Urine is about to come out of my urethra and I would like for it to go into the toilet instead of in my pants. Could you take me to the bathroom, please?" Okay, maybe they don't have to be that articulate or, in this case, creepy, but I generally wait until after they are two and have a good grasp on communication. And, I have to say, with Hope and with Bella it was a total breeze. They both picked it up really quickly...like within a couple of days...which I know could totally be a coincidence but, honestly, I just prefer to think I am super awesome.

All that being said, my darling youngest child...have i mentioned that I think she's a genius...woke up from her nap today and headed for the bathroom. Now, that's no surprise. We usually keep the bathroom door closed at all times because Ava is totally obsessed with the toilet. And, while I'm being honest, it is quite possible that she might have dipped a piece of bread in it the other day and tried to shove it in her mouth, after which I wrestled her to the floor, pried her lock-jawed mouth open with my finger and scooped that bad boy out of there. Ugh. The things I do for love. At any rate, as she headed to the open bathroom door today I gave her the look and said, "No, Ava." Then, she looked at the toilet, pointed to her diaper and said, "poopy" (which is a new word these days). Well, I had to change her wet diaper anyway so I told her she could sit on the potty. I mean, how cute is a little baby tooshie on the potty, right? So, I took her little diaper off and set her up there. A second later I heard the definite sound of little-girl-tinkling! And, I looked down to see her totally going to the bathroom and then looked up in astonishment to see the biggest smile on that girl's face.

So, even though I AM NOT potty training, I congratulated her and made a big deal and gave her a little treat. And then, of course, I snapped a picture.

What in the world, people?!? This child is seriously smart. I am in trouble.

A Whole Lotta Hope

2011-01-28T12:11:00.000-08:00

It is possible that my children may hang out around high schoolers too much. I mean, it kind of comes with the job. Teenagers are at our house all the time and we are at their events, and in their lives, too. We love it, and wouldn't change it for anything. But, occasionally, one of the kids does something that makes me shake my head and throw up an extra prayer that our life filled with teenagers doesn't make them grow up too fast.

Hope has me look over her reading journal each night after she does her homework. Last night, she gave me her journal with a wicked grin on her face. This was what she had written about "Curious George and the Dinosaur Museum."

If you don't know, "pshshsh!" is the equivalent of "duh!" in teenage language. I laughed and told her she couldn't write, "pshshsh!" on her page. She said, "Well, obviously Curious George is the main character of the book. Pshshsh!"

She was right. It was kind of a silly question for that book, but I made her change it anyway. And, I made her get rid of the "like" too...although I can't really blame that one on the teenagers. I use that word way too much.

Hope cracks me up and she is growing and changing before our very eyes. And last Sunday, after church, she told me that she needed help reading her bible so that she could have a relationship with Jesus. She told me she knew she needed one because she wasn't a good friend and she knew if she had a relationship with Jesus that he would help her. So, that night, after some good conversation she prayed and told Jesus that she needed him and wanted to follow him. And I balled my little eyes out.

Hope has always known about Jesus and always believed and Loren and I have struggled a little with how to encourage our kids to make their faith their own. My tendency was to, at the first conversation we had about following Jesus, invite her to "pray the prayer" and seal the deal. I'm not completely sure why that is what always seemed to well up in me in those moments. But, a bigger, hopefully wiser, part of me knew that my kids, each in God's timing, would have to come to this decision on their own, without my rushing it. As Loren and I have talked, we have always said that when our kids recognized their need, it would feel like they really got it, really understood.

On Sunday, Hope faced her need head on. And, I'm not gonna lie, it was hard for this momma to watch her child suffer over the understanding of her sin. But then...oh the joy of watching her giggle at the thought that Jesus has taken it away and will walk with her forever. Her pink, frilly room became the sanctuary of God as we prayed and we basked in His delight.

So, family and friends, when you think of it, pray for Hope. That she would stand firm in her faith. That her life would be guarded from the schemes of the Evil One. That she would fix her eyes on Jesus and run the race marked out for her with faithfulness. That she would be bold and be a light in this world. That she would know in her depths, the delight the Father feels for her, and live out of that place. And...and...and....you get the picture.

And Jesus, the word gratitude...for this life, this child, this redeemed heart...doesn't even come close. Praise your name!

Ava

2011-01-18T07:41:00.001-08:00

This girl is growing up way too fast. I can hardly believe she is 15 months old! Ava is our little comedian and our 23 lb tornado. She has taught me the art of walking into a room and immediately assessing all the damage she could cause if left to her own devices. She is curious and needs to touch, smell, and taste everything. She also feels the need to see if she can climb every piece of furniture we have, thus sending her mother into near cardiac arrest every three days or so.

She makes us laugh all the time with her funny little personality and her goofy faces. Her favorite, these days, is this fish face. :)

And, I may be biased here, but I think she is seriously smart. She understands so much and is starting to be able to communicate more and more. Her first words have been, mommy, daddy, and doggie....oh...and "uh uh", which mostly means no, but can mean yes, too and she says that because she hears it from me about eleven hundred times a day.

What fun she has brought to our family! I can't imagine our life without her.

A Poem for Christmas

2010-12-16T14:20:00.000-08:00

I've reclaimed Christmas this year in my heart. After a few years of feeling distant from the story, of feeling like our real celebration should come at Easter, of feeling like Jesus in the manger is only the beginning of the story and that Jesus on the cross should illicit the most emotion, the most praise, the most celebrating, I am bursting with the joy of Christmas. This poem is why. Well, Jesus is why, but this well-timed poem has made me rethink my faulty notions of Jesus in the manger. And it has reminded me that Jesus was Jesus before he was ever born. He was Son, Savior, Sacrificial Lamb before the foundations of the earth. And that when he came slipping into this world, our salvation was already as good as finished.

And now, I see it all differently. The carols all mean more. I'm seeing the nativity with fresh eyes. Even the star on top of my tree makes me giddy. Emmanuel has come. Redemption has been given a body and a mother and a home in this world. The tiny, infant Jesus, God in flesh, is a perfect picture of our Father's redemptive heart for us. He nailed himself to our poor plant, so that we could be free.

There is much more, but I'll let the poem speak for itself. Merry Christmas!

Mary's Song
by Luci Shaw

Blue homespun and the bend of my breast
keep warm this small hot naked star fallen
to my arms. (Rest... you who have had so far to come.)
Now nearness satisfies the body of God sweetly.
Quiet he lies whose vigor hurled a universe. He sleeps
whose eyelids have not closed before.

His breath (so slight it seems
no breath at all) once ruffled the dark deeps
to sprout a world. Charmed by dove's voices,
the whisper of straw, he dreams,
hearing no music from his other spheres.

Breath, mouth, ears, eyes
he is curtailed who overflowed all skies,
all years. Older than eternity, now he
is new. Now native to earth as I am, nailed
to my poor planet, caught
that I might be free, blind in my womb
to know my darkness ended,
brought to this birth for me to be new-born,
and for him to see me mended
I must see him torn.

The Broken Hearted

2010-12-14T02:00:00.000-08:00

Working with high school students will break your heart. It just will. They are fickle in their affections, not just with each other, but with those who love them best. Their parents, their mentors, their God. But, working with high school students is also exhilarating. All that hope and promise. All that fight they have in them. All that conviction that they can make a difference in the world. It's one of the best jobs in the world.

Feelings run the gamut in our line of work and, in a way, we've learned to embrace the bipolar-ness of it all.

One of our Young Life students, a student Loren pursued and loved and who met Christ at camp three years ago, is dying. He has stomach cancer. Terminal cancer, at 20. And he has, at most, a month to live. So, Loren has been going over, trying just to be there. Giving him communion. Just sitting with him cause it hurts too much for him to talk. It's heartbreaking. And yet, when Loren speaks at his memorial, he'll get to talk about how Jedd's life was changed because of Christ, how he had peace in his last days, how he was ready to meet Jesus.

On Sunday night, I cleaned up the kitchen while 20 high school kids and Young Life leaders piled into our living room to study the bible. I watched them come in, many who have broken the hearts of these leaders as they prayed and pursued and waited and hoped that Jesus would woo them to himself. And now, here they are. Praying, studying, and singing lullabies of, "Holy is the Lord" as I tuck my kids into bed. It's overwhelming. To be that close up for someone else's journey into life with Christ.

What I'm learning is that my heart should be broken. There is beauty in that. A broken heart is the work of the Holy Spirit. He uses it to ignite my passion for his work. He uses it to expose me and then draw me close. And, he uses it to show himself as the only true mender of the brokenhearted. When my heart is broken, I get to share in the sufferings of Jesus. And I get to feel his delight as he turns mourning into dancing, sorrow into joy.

This year I've seen hearts smashed to smithereens. I've experienced it, too. It's been the best year of my life.

The Gang

2010-12-06T12:32:00.000-08:00

Last week Hope told me she was in a gang.

"A gang? " I said. "What kind of a gang?"

"You know, like Scooby Doo," she told me.

She went on to tell me that a gang is four or so people who hang out and play together and maybe they fight but they always make up. It sounded good to me. I think I've always hoped that my children would be a part of a gang...well, at least this kind of a gang. I want them to have a close, core group of friends, and to feel a part of a group. I know what that feels like. That's a good thing. Long live the gang!

As we talked more about it later that week, I started to feel like a "gang" in Hope's definition was also a little...well, exclusive. Some kids were in and some were out. Then, I didn't like it as much. I know what that feels like, too. And, it occurred to me that my 7 year old might not be mature enough to be in a gang. That she might not understand how it could hurt people's feelings. I told her I wasn't sure being in a gang was the best thing. Down with the gang!

Then, I wrestled with it a little. The truth is, I've wrestled with this same thing a lot in the last year or so. I mean, I have a gang, if you wanna call it that. (And I do!) Is it okay to have a small, core group of friends in the midst of a larger group of friends? How do you do that and keep people from feeling excluded? And how do I teach this to my child if I can't even figure it out for myself?

In the end, I told Hope what I believe to be true. That it is okay to have a small circle of friends that you are closer to. People that know you inside and out. And, that it's not really possible to have that with everyone. But, that we are to love everyone like Jesus loves and that means that we can see and appreciate just how special each person is and treat them that way, too. And that really, this is what your whole gang should be about.

I'm not totally sure she got it because then she went on to describe some fantastic, Scooby Doo- like, adventure that they had during recess. But, it was good for me to process and made me come up with some good answers for those questions that I know will continue to pop up in both of our lives.

Today, I get to celebrate seven years of loving my sweet Hopie. And I continue to beg God for wisdom as I parent this amazing little girl. And I pray that with each passing year, she falls deeper in love with Jesus...who blessed us with her.

Hope - "I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, 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."

Africa

2010-11-15T22:15:00.000-08:00

Well yall', it looks like I'm going to Africa!

More specifically, in March, I'll be heading to Tanzania with some of my Young Life friends!

Last March, at our Women's Young Life retreat, my friend, Shelley, asked us to pray about this trip she was putting together to Africa. As she talked, my heart starting pounding. You know the feeling. The one where God starts to stir up something you never planned on? At any rate, as we were getting ready to leave, I just casually mentioned to her that I wanted to be kept in the loop. I wasn't sure what God was doing but I knew he had been making my heart tender towards Africa ever since my beautiful Zambian/Kenyan daughter was born and maybe this was a part of that.

So, last month, when she called with the dates and the details, and asked me to pray, I did. And, despite all of the reasons why it doesn't make any sense for me to go, (and there are many), I'm gonna. Not because I have to go. Not because God needs me to go. But just because I can sense that the Lord is asking me to lean in. That he desires to show me more of who he is. I can also sense, by the way, my own sinful resistance to that, and because of that, my decision to go felt really good. It felt like the Spirit inside of me stood up to the flesh and said, "Hell, no!"

So, at the end of March, I, along with three or four other women, will head to Tanzania to serve and love on and encourage the women on Young Life staff all over Africa. One of the staff helping to facilitate our time there said you can't overstate how important this will be. That certainly there is a great need for people to come and care for the poor and the orphan. Those needs may never go away. But, that we have to realize how important it is to care for and pour into these women who are a part of the solution in their own countries. To equip and refresh them to go back and continue to serve those they come in contact with every day. To allow them a long, slow drink from the Fountain of Living Water, that they might go back and share the gospel out of the overflow. What a privilege to be a part of that.

And, just so you know, I'm pretty sure I'll come back, unable to overstate the impact it has on me. I just have a sense.

Halloween!

2010-11-03T09:05:00.000-07:00

Halloween is way too much cuteness for one night. It makes me want to have periodic costume parties just to have an excuse to dress my kids up in adorable costumes. This year we were:

Princess Tiana from "The Princess and the Frog"....Loren's mom made this dress. Seriously...she is just ridiculously amazing!

A Pink Poodle. We decided on this last minute. Bella couldn't decide between this and Cinderella, but after putting it on Friday night, I think she just knew she was so stinkin' adorable in it, that it won out. And she was right.
And a sweet little lamb. Ava could live in this costume this winter as far as I'm concerned. It is so soft and so cute! And, lest you think she didn't get the whole Halloween thing, this baby had her first sucker and was addicted! She gets it....oh brother, does she get it. It's all about the candy!

We went trick or treating with our friends after small group on Sunday night. This was a picture of some of the kids, after getting all sugared up. Hey...I feel like having a sugar hangover is a great way to start the school week!
And this then....just because I need to tell you that I found these magic glasses while unpacking a few more toys. They magically make this baby stop crying when I put them on her. A little handy tool I discovered while trying to cook dinner and deal with a fussy, teething baby at the same time. Something I am so grateful for, that I just stopped writing to thank Jesus for the magic glasses. He knew I needed a little magic yesterday.

A Texas Wedding

2010-10-25T11:26:00.000-07:00

This weekend, we made a quick little trip to Texas to celebrate my cousin's wedding. I love my cousin, Britt a lot. We have tons of great memories from growing up together and his parents (my aunt and uncle, of course) are some of my most favorite people in all the world. It was a beautiful wedding and Britt's new bride, Crystal, is such a sweetheart. We just wouldn't have missed this wedding for the world.

The icing on the cake (I seriously just realized that was a pun...and I wasn't even trying!) is that my entire family would be there, which doesn't happen that often (and yes...I know that is mostly my fault for living out here in hippie Colorado). So, I came to the most beautiful part of Texas, the hill country, for a fancy wedding and some much needed family time. I got both.

I love it when we get to be with family because I just know my kids are making memories. I have great memories with all my cousins and I know my kids will, too. Here they all are at the rehearsal. This is the absolute best picture we could get. With seven kids 7 & under, it just is what it is.
And then, on the day of the wedding, we took lots of pictures of all of us dressed up. My kids love dressing up, which is so fun. But, I told my mom, I DO NOT know how she dressed all three of us girls every Sunday morning for church, without my dad's help (since he was at church much earlier). But, she surely did, and we were always dressed to the nines, with our bows tied correctly, matching shoes, and our thick hair curled and tied up in matching bows. The woman is some kind of a superhero.

Sweet Bella. Doesn't she smile with her entire face?
I have a sweet one of Hope, too, but who am I trying to kid. This picture is totally more her.

This is Ava's favorite new pose for pictures I love that she throws her little head back and laughs. She is so much fun!

The Fleming girls! Here we all are. My beautiful mom, who just last week was almost refused senior admission to the State Fair because she looks so darn young, and my gorgeous sisters. I have spent my whole life loving these women and am so blessed by their love for me and their love for Christ, which overflows onto everyone around them. We look GOOD, girls!And, how about that? They all looked at the camera. That is a miracle worth documenting.

It needs to be said that, though my roots are Baptist, my family can get down with the best of them. But, we decided we might need a little practice before the reception that night and we wanted to show the kids our moves. So, we did what any normal family would do. We had a little impromptu dance party on the porch, where we all did our fair share of dancing, and where, all the adults but one eventually figured out that the camera was rolling and this film was very likely to end up on someone's blog. Sorry mom, but I do feel like I gave you fair warning. Besides...it's time everyone knew where our wicked dance moves come from.

After the wedding reception, we took off, headed back to the great state of Colorado. And, as the kids quickly fell asleep (thank you, Jesus!) I was thankful for my time with my first family and all of their families. And, I knew that I was blessed to be heading home with this family. This one who will also someday sprout new branches and grow bigger. This family, who began with a wedding, and has grown now to this. Thanks be to God!

One Year Ago Today

2010-10-11T12:14:00.000-07:00

It hardly seems possible that, a year ago today, we met Ava. A year ago today, we came into a hospital room and saw the first glimpse of her face. Only her face, since the rest of her was tightly wrapped and a stocking cap was firmly planted on her head. A year ago today, her birthmom handed her to me and I felt the weight of her body against mine for the first time, and the magnitude of being a mother. A year ago today, I pulled that cap right off of her head so I could see what was underneath. Oodles of black curls, which made me grin and tear up immediately. A year ago today, I slowly unwrapped the blankets from around her so I could have a precious peek at those baby hands and feet, and then quickly tucked her back inside. A year ago today, I said to her, through blurry eyes and with deep conviction, "Hi, Ava. I'm your mommy." And I wondered how it was possible to feel this awestruck the third time around. But I did. And I do.

Today, she babbles to me like she's known me all along. She throws her head back and laughs at my silliness like I was put on this earth just for her. She toddles over to me with her arms up, knowing she's welcome. She cries and finds that my shoulder is a magical place that makes everything better. And knowing that one who was never at home in my body is at home in my arms, is a miracle that pays tribute to the God who can do exceedingly more than we can ask or even imagine.

Happy Birthday, precious Ava, "breath of life." On this day I celebrate God's goodness in giving you life. And am mystified by his goodness in giving me the privilege of knowing you best.

"Praise be to the LORD God, the God of Israel, who alone does marvelous deeds." Psalm 72:18

Content

2010-09-10T13:15:00.001-07:00

Renovations-are-us in the Kolman home. And, we are really enjoying checking some things off of our list. But, there is a limit to how much chaos I can handle and, this week, I reached it.

It's my own fault, really. When there are projects to be done, I just feel compelled to do it. And it's hard for me to move on until I do. It's hard for me to think about almost anything else, until it's done. And therein lies the chaos. Because life keeps on moving. Kids still need to be fed. Homework still needs to be finished. And normal everyday cleaning still abounds. You might be aware of some of my recent ramblings about how unexpectedly hard life with three kids has been. If you are, then the knowledge that I am adding to my workload by trying to steam off wallpaper and paint rooms should tell you all that you need to know. Chaos.

Today, I read in Hebrews 13, "be content with what you have" and it hit a nerve and apparently some kind of water valve because water started coming out of my eyes at an alarming rate. I used to think of contentedness as the discipline of not wanting too much. Or, learning to like what you have. And that may be true. But today, I realized that it's a lot more than that. We are told to be content for our own darn good and not because God looks down on us and shakes his head at how selfish we can be. We are told to be content because, when we aren't, we obsess over something other than God and as it subtly begins to take over and crowd out the spirit, I experience an unrest that I am unaccustomed to. When I can't think of anything else except getting my room painted so I don't have to live in the guest room anymore, I don't make time to sit in his presence. My brain, in it's discontented state, does not allow me to rest in Him, or at all for that matter. Such a simple thing. But, I have found it to be so hard. Especially when I'm in a place where there is much to be done.

So as I sat with that passage in Hebrews, I knew that God meant to convict me of more than my most recent obsession. And he proceeded to gently reveal how my discontent with any part of my life is a sneaky way in which Satan gets me focused on myself. And how, if I don't nip it in the bud, and quick, it is a seriously downhill spiral into unthinkable sin. Souls in unrest will do unimaginable things to forget that they are not at rest. And, his grace, as he revealed the dark places reminded me that I wanna be at rest in Jesus. Always. I don't want Satan to have a foothold in any part of my life. And, as ridiculous as it seems, painting a room created just enough chaos in my life to shift my gaze away from God.

And here's what I know about the view from there. It's a freakin' wreck.

First Grade

2010-08-31T22:31:00.001-07:00

How can it be possible that this little munckin started first grade yesterday? I knew back then how much I loved her. How much her smile could light up a room and how her head on my shoulder had magical powers that made my world slow down for a bit. But, I had no idea how funny she would be. How adventurous and strong and smart she was. How she would keep me on my toes and on my knees. No idea how much delight I would feel when I saw her light up as she talked about school.
So, here we are. First Grade. She's ready. She's always ready. But, we'll miss her at home. And little sister was none too happy when Hope smiled and waved and ran into her room.

So I did what any decent mom would do. I snapped a picture. And then, I gave her a big hug and a piggy back ride all the way home.

The littlest one took it all in stride.

How did I ever get so lucky as to parent these three lovely creatures?

The House: Part 2

2010-08-31T21:26:00.002-07:00

I haven't posted in a while and there is good reason. Darn good reason. Anyone who has ever moved with three children knows that just getting everyone fed, in the midst of all that needs to be done, is an accomplishment. Packing and, now, joyfully unpacking have left little time for anything else. But, now that we are able to see the floor (somewhat), it's all starting to feel a little more normal.

The house that God gave us (see this post if you aren't familiar with this story) is amazing. Just what we have always dreamed of. With lots of neat features like these cool old gas lamps that were turned into electric ones,

awesome doors, including a pocket door from the living room into the dining room and a swinging door from the kitchen to the dining room (can't you just see me in my apron swinging through that door with a silver tray in my hand merrily saying, "we've got crabcakes" in a sing songy voice? No? Too 1950's? Well, then you don't know me at all. I am sooooooo 1950's),

a lovely hearth with fireplace, built-in bookcases and, the kicker, windows that peek through to the kitchen. Oh how I love those windows!

It has all the lovely things that you would expect a one hundred year old home to be filled with. But, it's also filled with lots of wallpaper. Lots and lots of wallpaper. The likes of which make my eyes hurt.

Wallpaper like this (at one point someone said, "honey, wouldn't this be romantic in the master bedroom? I know how much you love pink and blue flowers.")
and this ("wouldn't it be wild if we tried to find wallpaper for the bathroom that made people dizzy when they went in there?")

and this (I do not understand ivy wallpaper. Nobody has real ivy growing inside all over their walls. Why would someone want to pretend they do?)

and this (Thomas Kincade lovers, eat your heart out!)

And I'm just getting started. There are 10 rooms in this house with wall paper in them. TEN! So, it has inspired much of this

and this (FYI...this bedroom had 7 layers of wallpaper. 7! I feel like I gained some square footage in the room just by removing it. And, because they are so awesome, I have to mention that a bunch of Young Life kids came over during their last week of summer and helped us strip this wall paper. They rocked!)

and this

I just can't help myself. It starts with me noticing a little rip in the wall paper and the next thing you know, whole walls of it are coming down. It's addicting. Like peeling a sunburn only not as gross.

We have lots of wallpaper stripping in our future and it's not gonna happen overnight. But, we love our new place and all of it's oddities. Mostly because it feels blessed by God. A good gift from One who knows us so well. And one we know he plans to use to bring people to him. And we can't wait to see what he has up his sleeve.

Three

2010-08-09T12:43:00.001-07:00

I think that having a three year old is one of the most perfect stages in all of parenthood. Some of you with your own little three year old will laugh at that statement. But, I think you know it's true. It's not because I love temper tantrums or illogical questions or that shift from napping to not napping. I'm not crazy. It's just that, at three, a distinct personality begins to come out in full force and it leaves little doubt about who this child will be. The details of their lives and the specific ways their personality will show itself may be a mystery as of yet, but there are very few questions about how this child sees and interacts with the world. Three is when I begin to have those moments where the curtain between now and years from now falls away and, for brief snatches of time, I can see and hear and smell my daughter at 15, 16, 23...saying something in the exact same way she does now, only she's bigger. At three, I can experience parts of her that will be the same when she is all grown up, only I don't have to let go of her just yet. I love three.

Bella is three and we are experiencing all of the above. When I see her love for books or for art and music, my heart is full with the thought of all we will enjoy together. When I see her being a mother to her "honeys" (her dollies), I just know that mothering will come more naturally to her, and I can imagine the delight it will be to watch her with her own children. And the conversations we have! Loren and I have a perpetual "trying to hold it in" grin on our faces when she talks to us because she is just so cute. Her head slightly cocked and eyebrows raised when she's feeling particularly sassy, her seriousness in conveying her side of the story, her confident way with mispronounced words (the latest, "scone" is the most obvious pronunciation of a favorite flavored ice treat). All of it will be present in one way or another in the grown up version of Bella. And, oh my, the clumsiness...and the way she laughs it off, gracefully allowing us all to have a giggle at her expense. I see her becoming who she is and it's one of my deepest joys.

And, I guess it's one of my greatest hopes as well. I hope, as she grows and changes and understands more and more about who God created her to be, that she would be confident in the fact that I see her. That, even if she is quieter and doesn't demand as much attention, she would feel known and enjoyed and appreciated for the perfectly unique reflection of God that she is. That she would know what a delight she is to Loren and to me and most of all, to the God who made her Bella...beautiful one. I pray that she would know that her quiet spirit and sweet nature is a strength and not a weakness. That she would embrace her beautiful, vulnerable heart. The one that makes others take a deep breath and slow down for a moment to bask in her sunshine.

I know she'll be all grown up one day. And I'm already starting to see what that may look like. But, for now, I'll just concentrate on enjoying three. Because 23 will be here before I know it. And letting her go is not something I'm ready to think about just yet.

The Hair Blanket

2010-07-27T12:08:00.001-07:00

I could write an entire diatribe on our culture's messed up view of beauty. I really could. I am actually getting a little irritated just thinking about it. Because what kind of culture would dare to try and convince this little girl that she is anything but gorgeous?

But, they do. And so, sometimes, she wishes that she had lighter skin and long flowing hair. I know that's not unusual for any little girl. I'm told that Loren's little sister, Connie, was pretty bald for the first two years of her life and would look longingly at little girls with long hair. I can remember wishing mine was curly and wild. ( I have the crazy perm pictures to prove it!)

I know that there are all kinds of ways to make Hope's hair longer. Weaves, relaxing it, wigs, etc. But, I guess I'm hoping that she will learn to really love her natural hair before we experiment with any of those things. And, in truth, I secretly wish that she would just flaunt a rockin' natural afro all of her life and always feel as beautiful as she is without any additions. :) For now, she has settled for this.

It's her own creation, fixed with a safety pin in the back and made out of a blanket I made her last year when Ava was born. She calls it her hair blanket and it is a fairly regular fixture on top of her head. She likes to feel like her hair is blowing in the breeze and she likes that it swishes when she moves her head. She proudly wears it out and I proudly let her because she is darn cute in a hair blanket, too.

Most of the time, though, we are all natural and on most days, I don't think Hope struggles with self image. I know that is in large part due to that fact that she has a daddy who has taught her how not to take herself too seriously.

And a daddy who loves her unconditionally and tells her often what a beautiful gift from God she is.
So, I think she's gonna be alright. Cause I never underestimate a daddy's determination to see his daughter delighted with who God made her to be.

Ava Elizabeth

2010-07-23T13:33:00.000-07:00

I've got lots to say, but very little time, lately, to write it in a way that is pleasant to read. So, for now, you get to see pictures of Ava. And, I know that the pictures are why most of you come to this blog anyway. :)

She is growing so fast!

Ava's learned lots of new tricks lately. Clapping and pulling up are just two of many. My favorite is the one where she indiscriminately puts things into her mouth off the floor. Dog food, wood chips, paper, pennies, etc. Yep...that's my favorite.

I can never resist a good profile shot. Which is funny, cause I'm not really a big fan of my own profile. Her's is delicious though. Couldn't you just squeeze those precious cheeks?!

Come on! It doesn't get much cuter than that!

And finally, one I got of her and her cousin, Pax when my sister, Mel, was down to visit. I love his face in this picture and I love how it looks like Ava has her hand on his knee saying, "Now Paxton, let's be good little babies and smile one more time for the insane mommies with the cameras."

Mama Monk

2010-07-13T23:21:00.000-07:00

My friend, Micha, has a ridiculously good blog. And really, if you have 5 minutes in the course of your day to sit and read something, I'd highly recommend it.

Today, though, if you stumble upon her blog you might just find some thoughts from someone who is slightly more familiar to you.

Check it out!

Summer Days

2010-07-07T13:13:00.000-07:00

There are a million things to love about summer. Pool days, the 4th of July, iced coffee, longer daylight hours...... I could go on and on. But, some of my favorite things are all the fresh fruits and vegetables. We are lucky to have a great farmers market in town and it is so fun to go on Saturdays and see what's there. And then spend the next week coming up with a thousand uses for golden beets.

This year, we discovered that one of the trees in our own backyard is an apricot tree. It's never had fruit until this year, for some reason. So, we spent the last weekend picking pounds and pounds of apricots off of our tree.
And then, subsequently reading that once apricots are picked, you have to do something with them within about five days, or else they go bad. If we were moved into our new home instead of living out of boxes, I might have canned a bunch of them and made jam with the rest. Instead, lots of our friends are getting fresh apricots these days and we are eating our fair share as well.

Then, I noticed that, at the new house, we have a sour cherry tree in the backyard. Now technically, we do not own that house yet and, technically, we are not allowed to be hanging around the property like we do. But, technicalities aside, it seemed a shame for those beautiful bright red cherries to all be eaten by the birds. I'm happy to share with the birds, but a cherry pie and some jam sounded so darn good. So, technically, I trespassed and picked all that I could reach. And then, my friend and neighbor-to-be Debbie brought me her ladder, and I picked a whole lot more.

I don't feel bad at all.

And, just so you know, there is a plum tree in the front yard of the new house. And if we haven't closed on that house in the next few weeks, you better believe that I will be trespassing again in the very near future. Fresh plums, people! How could you even ask me to resist that?

Sabbath Rest

2010-06-30T13:33:00.000-07:00

My kids, especially the biggest, the little stinker, have been used mightily this week by God to do a work in me that soooo needed to happen. In the process, though, I have been frustrated, angry, scared, and at my wit's end.

So, I cried out to God in exhaustion. And, as I sat and prayed with clenched fists, these are the things that kept coming up:

Lord, I work so hard at parenting and she is still selfish.

I work so hard to protect them, and they are still exposed and enticed by evil.

I work so hard at having good relationships with my girls, and they deliberately disobey me.

Then, I unclenched my fists in hopes of just listening to God.

I sighed a deep sigh and laid it all out.

God, I'm angry and frustrated. "Because you don't have control..."

I'm worried about evil. " I have good plans... "

I don't like the neighbor girl who acts way too old for her age. "She's a wounded child and I love her deeply... "

I feel like I can't do enough and it's too painful to fail. "Come to me..."

I felt such hope afterward and I couldn't really explain why. But, the next morning as I read in Hebrews 4 about Sabbath Rest, it became a little clearer. We are encouraged in that passage to enter fully into His rest - the completed work of redemption - and to be careful that we do not fall short of it. We are asked to cease working to bring about redemption in our lives and in the lives of others. We are invited to be still, and understand that God alone redeems. And if we don't do that, we risk falling away.

I can see how that would happen, actually. My own frustration at not being able to produce the results I want with my children has me in tears regularly. And I realize now that my anger, frustration, and worry about those things are because I believe that somehow I should have more control. That somehow all the work I do should produce perfectly behaved children who never encounter evil. Somehow I have made the subtle shift from guiding and helping to shape my children to taking it upon myself to do the redeeming work in their lives. It's a shift that has, at it's core, a belief that God's goodness towards me, and towards them, that his grace, is not sufficient. And just like that I have taken a nose dive off the edge of my faith...I've fallen away.

But here is the hope in it all and what snatches me back from the edge of faithlessness.

I can't do it. I'm ill equipped to be a redeemer.

And thank goodness. Because in spite of my great love for my kids, what I have to offer in that regard would fall so far short of what God wants to do. Pitifully short. And I want more for them than an earthly redemption that would make them good little robots who are motivated by my fear or anger or frustration to do the right things. I want their hearts to be redeemed by the One who invites us to live life to the full, and transforms us by his love.

There are still issues. My kids are still selfish. The neighbor girl is a 10th grader in a 2nd grade body and I'm not sure how to handle that. My kids continue to wound me with their little rejections. And all of it is likely to produce suffering in their little lives that I feel like I can not bear to watch. But I hope I will let those things lead me to a life of prayer and surrender, instead of fear and frustration.

As I attempt to daily enter into the Sabbath rest, I pray that I will parent with more hope, and less fear, as I understand more of the character of God. I pray that I will be more apt to trust that his desire to relentlessly pursue redemption in my life and the lives of my children is far greater than anything I can drum up. And I pray that as I pry open my hand and release my children to his tender care, that I would know better how to love them in a way that invites them to willingly place themselves in his grip.

Goodbye Quaker Ridge

2010-06-24T11:52:00.000-07:00

Well, almost as quickly as we came, it's time to say goodbye. We leave camp tomorrow to head back home to Canon City. And, just like that, people that we have gotten to know and who have imprinted themselves on our hearts, will all head back to their respective homes and their lives. Some we will see again. Most we won't. That's just the way it is with assignment.

What a privilege it was to work along side these that served, prayed, sacrificed, and loved on students for three weeks, all for the sake of Christ. Laborers in the Harvest.

And what a blessing it is to know that God delights to use all of us, at any age, in spite of our past and our weaknesses, to bring people to himself.

Have I mentioned how much I love being at camp? I really do. But I know I'm blessed to be able to say that I can't wait to be home. Amidst those who know the depths of my wicked heart and the beauty of the redeemed one and whose steadfast love continues overwhelm me.

To you that we are coming home to: Get ready...cause we have missed you terribly. We are coming home and you won't be able to be rid of us for weeks and weeks to come. Practice these words: "Go home...we'll see you tomorrow."

I leave you with some pictures from camp. Some of our favorites.

Ava just didn't quite know what to do with Loren in his Gnome costume.

Amy was Ava's second mom up here at camp. She carried her around almost as much as I did, which saved me from coming home with arms like Arnold Swarchenegger. And look at those cute western freckles. If I painted those on her just for regular every day stuff, would that be weird?

There was no tub in our room so we had to make due with the sink. Ava didn't mind, though. She liked that she could see herself in the mirror and wash at the same time.

Never underestimate the importance of a girl's cowboy boots. They go with everything.

I just love this picture!

I love Bella's goofiness in this one. Oh my goodness, she had such a great time!

That's Hope...getting ready to make a strike in the bowling game. Too fun!

And...well...what can I say? Two of the most lovable people in my world.

And a sweet little family picture. I'm up there in the sunlight where you can't really see my face. Maybe you could just think of me as an angelic creature shining brightly down on my family. :)

The Pool

2010-06-22T12:43:00.000-07:00

So, I think I've mentioned that at camp we spend a lot of time at the pool. A lot. Which is great, because I love the pool and because these are the "this is heaven" kind of faces that I get to see when I'm there.

Cute huh?

But, spending time at the pool at a middle school camp also gives the me the opportunity to notice some things. One of those things is that middle school girls (and I'm sure boys too) are, in general, in varying stages of insecurity. And never is it more obvious than when they are at the pool. You can't really blame them. You see, the thing about middle school girls is that they run the gamut in terms of development. Some still look like basically like children, not all that different than Hope. And some...well...some look like full blown women. It's no wonder that there are insecurities. There is no normal in middle school. And everyone is sure that they are being scrutinized by their peers. And actually, they're probably right.

Today, amidst all the bikini clad middle school bodies at the pool (because everyone should think you are confident enough to wear a bikini no matter how you feel), I noticed how almost all of them sat covering themselves with their arms or their towels in some way. They sat there covering their bellies, their chests, their legs, whatever part they weren't too sure about, and tried to act like they weren't comparing. As I watched them, I suddenly had the urge to go into town and buy a bikini to wear, just so that they would have someone else to look at. Someone else to compare to and make themselves feel a little better, since my bikini body definitely isn't what it used to be. Then, maybe they would get a momentary break from their own insecurities. And I remember middle school enough to know that even a momentary break would be nice.

I have my own moments of insecurity. They still come more frequently than I would hope. But, these days, I work a little less at covering up my imperfections. And, I try harder not to compare myself to others. In the twenty years since middle school, I guess I've learned a little something about being comfortable in your own skin.

I think I'll stick to my tankini, though. :)

The Word made Flesh

2010-06-21T13:16:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, up here at camp, a leader hiked a rocky mountain barefoot, so that a student could have shoes to hike in.

The Word made flesh.

The feet of Christ.

Have I mentioned lately how much I love camp?

Father's Day

2010-06-20T16:06:00.000-07:00

Yep...a total rock star in the world of dad's...and they know it...and told him so this morning.

Thank you, Lord, for giving my children the gift of this amazing man for their daddy. We couldn't be more pleased.

Oh How He Loves....

2010-06-19T09:59:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, when you hear about God's love week after week at camp, you, sort of, lose some perspective. The story of God's love is for these campers, right? I already know it. Right?

Well, I do. I mean, these days, I continue to be transformed by His love as I seek to follow him. I have finally decided that's it worth the work I put into it. More than worth it. And I realize, these days, that it's not a lofty and unattainable goal to pursue Christ with reckless abandon. It's actually the only appropriate response to his love.

So, when I am suddenly thrust into a deeper understanding of that love, I am instantly brought to tears. Because it really is too much. It really is.

As I make my way through Hebrews these days, here is what I am discovering. Jesus not only suffered and died for us, but he then presents us to God as if we weren't people who spit on him, mocked him, and ultimately took his life. He presents us as if he has just uncovered the most precious treasure. And here's the kicker. He feels like he has. With a flourish, he says, "Ta da!" and points to us. "Aren't they wonderful?" He is the proudest big brother.

And to think, I've spent so long wondering if he somehow resents, even a little, having to die for me. Feeling that he surely must. I have so much to learn about his love.

I guess camp isn't just for the kids.

Family Pictures!

2010-06-17T14:23:00.001-07:00

OH BROTHER! Someone save me from the nightmare of blog design! I am done trying. This is not exactly how I want it to look, but the colors are right and everything is still in it's place. It will have to do until someone who speaks code can rescue it.

Did you notice my new fancy header? We got our family pictures in the mail today and our photographer, Darci, who I sort of met through her blog, threw that bonus in there for me. I love it!

Here is what's great about the images that Darci captured: it's the real us. I know it's downright impossible to get a photo with three small children in it where everyone is smiling and looking the right way at the same time. She managed to get some of those, though, just cause she's good like that. But, far and away, my favorites are the ones where we're just being us. And, right now, "us" is three little girls with completely different personalities whose agreeableness fluctuates from one moment to the next, and two adults holding on for dear life, and for love, and loving where that life has taken them.

Here are a few of my favorites from our photo session out at Bear Creek Park in Colorado Springs. Thanks, Darci!

Okay...I know it's a lot. It was really hard to restrain myself and 11 is the absolute least amount I could have possibly put in this post. Seriously...I couldn't have narrowed any more!

Good Eats

2010-06-13T08:47:00.001-07:00

One thing that camp affords me the time to do is read. I read a lot anyway, but at camp, where we all share a room, quiet time for the girls means...well...quiet time for me. Time for indulging in a good book. I like it. It's not like at home where quiet time feels like the only time I have to clean the house or get dinner ready or do the gazillion other things that call my name. Here, my only job, really, is to care for my family. During quiet time, when they are otherwise engaged, I get to care for myself. And I do that, have always done that, by reading. So, soon after we got here I started reading this book:

Yeah...I know. It sounds kind of hippie, right. Well...it kind of is. Actually, Barbara Kingsolver would be irritated to hear me say that. She would argue that it is ridiculous to have negative connotations in regards to eating healthy. And, she's probably right.

I'm not really a health nut in my own mind. I like soda, I like chocolate (and not the dark kind either), and I even eat the occasional fruit snack. But, I've come to realize that in comparison to a whole lot of Americans, I am kind of a health nut. I make my own whole grain bread. I have a garden in the summer. I pick apples and can my own applesauce. And there's plenty more. But, let me just say, I've got nothing on Barbara Kingsolver.

Initially, I began this book kind of skeptically. Here's the premise. Barbara Kingsolver, along with her husband and two girls move across the country to a farm and commit to eating only local foods for one year. Daunting, but apparently doable. And then, she writes about all she learns. So, I sat down with it, my Diet Dr. Pepper and, yes, some fruit snacks and began to read. Halfway through the first chapter, I pushed both away and began to chastise myself for not snacking on walnuts and sparkling water. When I stopped reading after quiet time, I wasn't sure I would go back. Who needs more guilt in their lives? Not me.

But, I did come back. And, what I've found are some new ways of thinking. They don't have to produce guilt. I can reasonably assume that I may never live on a farm/orchard and grow 5 acres worth of my own fruits and vegetables. But, there is plenty that I can do and plenty that intrigues me enough to try it. I may not save my family completely from the evils of high fructose corn syrup (because of it's prevelance in everything we eat, it, along with soybeans[used for making hydrogentated oil] comprise about 70% of midwestern crops these days...70%...and farmers have had to go with the flow, or else risk losing their livelihoods), but I can think harder about the choices I make in the grocery store. I can choose to support my local, organic farmer, whose produce doesn't have to be shipped thousands of miles, thus losing some of it's flavor and a good deal of it's nutrition. And, I can eat seasonal fruits and vegetables instead of insisting on having anything I want at any time I want. (If you are eating raspberries in January...they came from really far away. Who knows what had to be done to those raspberries for them to survive a shipment from South of the Equator? It's not natural.)

Alright, I know I have lost some of you at this point. It's too overwhelming and probably just feels like one more thing to be concerned with in a world of concerns. I know I'm not gonna change everything about the way we eat. I just can't. It's not practical for me, with three small children, to go traipsing all over creation trying to find every organic farmer and local honey there is. But, it's made me think a little. I'm thinking more about our local farmers and how much they need our support. I'm thinking about my family and what I can do to encourage healthy eating habits. I'm thinking about the fact that while it may cost a little more in some ares to do this, which is scary, it's probably worth it. And I'm thinking about how much fun it would be to try some of this stuff. So, here's what I'm gonna try to do:

1. I will try to buy only things in season, locally, whenever possible, thus guaranteeing that they are fresher. No more grapes in April, apples in February, and Avocados in November.

2. I will buy some local, seasonal things in bulk and store them if they are storable in my cellar and can them if they are not. Tomato season will bring a great deal of work, but I think I'm up for the challenge.

3. I will try...try, to make my own mozzarella. It supposedly only takes about an hour and I really think it might be fun to see how it's done and to get to pull all that stringy goodness into long ropes of cheese and then eat it!

4. I will ask my local grocery store if any of their products come from local farms...and do my part to put pressure on the chain stores to carry more local produce.

5. I will call around and ask about buying local chicken and eggs. I WILL NOT kill and pluck my own chickens. Nope. Not gonna do it.

Whew! That seems like a lot, actually. But, I think I can do it. I'm kind of excited about it actually. Hippie chick, here I come! Oh...and I forgot #6...

6. I will, every once in a while, give myself a break and buy an avocado in November because, let's face it...I'm not that hard core. And I really like guacamole.

My Kids at Camp

2010-06-10T08:55:00.000-07:00

Here are a few pictures of the kids and all that they get to enjoy at camp.

Western night is always a big favorite. And this year is no different. During western night, there is also a carnival and campers have the chance to win tickets that they use to throw pies in their leaders faces or dump water on them. And, because everything has a purpose at Young Life camp, even the crazy weird stuff that Loren is often involved in, it isn't just about getting messy. It's about leaders being willing to sacrifice comfort and some pride, as they walk around soaked and with whip cream all over themselves. And it's about not being too old, or too mature to get a little crazy. Hope kept insisting that she wanted me to throw a pie in her face so she could lick the whip cream all off. :) She chickened out at the last minute. I don't blame her.

I asked Bella if I could take a picture of her in all her cuteness and she said, "sure," all exasperated like. Then, she turned around and pulled this pose for me. Hello, Project Runway.

Okay, this isn't actually a picture of the kids. It's of me. But, Bella took this picture. I had to lean way down to actually be in it, but I think she did a pretty good job.

Uhhh....yeah....Loren's a gnome this year at camp. And in this picture...the Gnomes go country. Mmm hmmmm. That's all I really have to say about that.

Look how tan and rosy cheeked my baby already is! She is soaking up all the attention and, apparently, a little sun, too.

This one is in here because I finally captured Ava's screaming face. Imagine a very loud screeching noise coming from this face. It's a lot cuter to look at than it is to hear. :)

Hope and Bella dancing to The Fray at club. They're cool kids like that. :) They are dancing here with one of their favorite summer staff girls, Nicole. Even though Nicole works at the store and holds the keys to all things sugary and delicious, I'm pretty sure my girls just like her because she is super sweet herself and loves hanging out with them.

Who could resist taking this picture? It sort of sums up my kid's experience at camp. They are right in the middle of it all. And, here's what I really love about it. If you could read the overhead in the picture (which you could if you clicked on it and enlarged it) you would see that it's a song that says, "He loves us. Oh how he loves us. Oh how he loves us. Oh how he loves." And that's what camp is about. And not only are campers experiencing that love, my kids are too. What a gift!

And finally, if you've been to my house then you know that my kids sleep in a double bed. When we got to camp, they had bunk beds all set up and the girls were excited about having their own space. Hope on the top bunk and Bella on the bottom. Well, after four nights of sleeping separately, they decided last night that they missed each other and wanted to sleep together. Sweet sisters! (Also, note that I had to take many pictures to find an angle where Hope's wide open eyes...which is how she sleeps!...would not creep you all out. It is freaky. I can say that cause she's seen it in pictures and she agrees. :) )

More to come....it's only the first week!

The House

2010-06-08T21:28:00.000-07:00

Sometime next month, we will be living here:

Because last month, amidst my mommy meltdowns and the craziness of wrapping up the school year, God gave us a house. There really is no other explanation than that. Here is a list of mountains he moved to get us this house.

1.) the price had to come down roughly $50,000 from when it was first listed
2.) someone had to buy our house
3.) a contract that someone put on the house right before we did had to fall through
4.) a substantial down payment needed to be made

Now, to be fair, he didn't bring the price of the house down $50,000. Technically, he brought it down $60,000. And, technically, someone didn't come and look at our house and decide to buy it. A friend and Young Life supporter actually offered to buy it from us and then keep it on the market...just because God told them to. And, anyone who knows our financial situation knows that a substantial down payment is a matter only God himself can take care of. And he did.

Twice during this whole process, I felt like God told me that this was our house. Once in a dream, and once during my prayer time. And I believed it with my whole heart. But, with others, I was cautiously optimistic. I wish I had been more bold. I wish I had declared what I knew God was doing. I feel like I have spent most of my christian life wanting God to speak powerfully to me. This time, he did. And, for the most part, I tucked it away and kept it for myself. Next time I'm gonna speak up.

I'm so thankful for his faithfulness to provide big things like houses that we could never provide for ourselves. And for his faithfulness to provide seemingly smaller things,which may not actually be smaller at all, like quiet encouragement that he hears, he knows, and he delights to give good gifts.

Young Life Camp

2010-06-07T17:50:00.001-07:00

Well, we are finally here at camp. Quaker Ridge, this year, in beautiful Woodland Park, CO. And, although camp generally presents some logistical challenges in regards to our family(trying to all sleep in the same room, nap schedules, getting everyone to and from dinner in a timely manner, etc.) it is always a good time to reconnect as a family as the pace of life tends to slow down a little and we get to enjoy just being together. And, as I've said before, it's also a good time to reconnect with why we are blessed to be called into this particular ministry.

We are glad to be here. Glad to be serving middle schoolers for the next three weeks in hopes that they will encounter Christ in a transforming way. Glad to be serving amongst a whole group of people with the same heart and passion that we have. Glad to be completely poured out for the glory of God. And excited to see him move amongst us.

Do your thing, Lord!

The Hair

2010-06-04T20:18:00.000-07:00

My Bella has a beautiful head of hair. Gorgeous. Seriously, it is the kind of hair that women dream of. So, when she said she wanted to cut it, I was a bit apprehensive. I love long hair on little girls. And hers...well, I've already said it's dreamy so let's leave it at that. But, I am also determined to be the kind of mom who is not attached to her child's hair. I wanna be able to say, "It's your hair, honey. Do what you want." Even at three. Because, even at three, this little girl has some strong opinions. So, I let her ask every day for about a week and then I called the stylist. Because her hair deserves a professional.

And the result....would you believe it is possibly even more precious than ever? I LOVE it. More importantly, she LOVES it. Man, I love that girl so much!

So, here she is in all her glory.....
See....ADORABLE! By the way, we also had family pictures done by a really special new friend and I can't wait to share those with you in the next couple of days. This is one she took just of my sweet Bella.

Emerging

2010-05-27T12:04:00.000-07:00

I think I'm finally emerging. Finally, crawling out from under the weight of my own expectations, my own notions of motherhood and how it all fits into full life. But, as does most emerging, it started with a crack, a breaking of that heavy outer layer that has long since weighed the being inside down. That crack came in the form of a screaming baby and ten minutes of uncontrollable sobbing. The former was courtesy of Ava, the latter...yours truly.

I haven't blogged much in the last month mostly because I didn't have much to say that didn't qualify as whining or complaining. I was frustrated and disappointed with the way life was going and then, as if that isn't enough...meet my good friend, Guilt. It would swoop in quickly anytime I was overwhelmed with the demands of every day life and effectively kill my chances of taking a breather or a nap or anything else that would keep me sane. I mean, what did I really have to complain about anyway? My three beautiful children? An adoring husband? Sweet friends? A new house? (ahhh yes...this is an exciting post for a later date...see I couldn't even tell you my great news because I was too stuck). And I would think, "Am I really sitting here, sad?" But, I was. I just was. I felt like I was losing myself amidst all of the other things that compete for my attention and I was mad about that, and subsequently feeling selfish. And trying to nurture the people in your life out of that place does not usually go well.

So, as I cried and as I talked to a good friend who thankfully let me sob on the phone and was still able to make out what I was saying, I realized that sometimes the demands of life...even for a stay at home mom (maybe especially for them, actually) really ARE just too much. And, that I can not do it all. I just can't. (If you'll allow me a slight bunny trail here...I have to tell you that in the midst of this I discovered that when my cute new cell phone has a missed call and a voice mail, the icon that appears is an envelope with a frowny face on it. A frowny face!!!...because someone wasn't able to reach me at the exact moment that they wanted to. This frowny face is often how I imagine other people viewing me when I don't meet their expectations. So, needless to say, I DO NOT need my electronics giving me attitude, people! Geesh!)

It's hard because if you are doing what you love, the expectation is that you will love every minute of it. And that means that the minutes you don't love start to make you think that maybe you've been wrong about all of it. How can you feel like you're a good mom if there are days when you want to lock the kids in their rooms and feed them by shoving food underneath the door? Does having the occasional cry in the shower after a long day mean that I am not equipped to handle having children?

Today, in a better frame of mind, I think it just means that I'm normal...maybe even better than normal, actually, because I distinctly feel the disconnect between all I want to offer my family, and how short I fall. That's painful. But, it's the good kind of painful that makes you seek the heart of God and ask him to sift away all that isn't from him. And then...he takes the guilt, he takes the unrealistic expectations, and he might even take your semi-part-time job that you find yourself trying to hold out to people who think that your full time job as a wife and mom are not enough. Yep...he'll probably take that too. But, what he gives you in return is sweet freedom. Freedom to enjoy the joy and chaos of being at home. Freedom to enjoy the slower moments, too. And, freedom to have a cry in the shower at the end of a long day when it's all just too much.

Happy Mother's Day!

2010-05-09T15:19:00.000-07:00

The ones who make this crazy journey of motherhood so worth it:

And the man who shares every step with me:

I am blessed.

Aren't these just precious?

2010-05-02T12:44:00.000-07:00

My dad just got a fabulous, new, fancy camera and he is getting really good at shooting some of his favorite subjects...the grandkids. We got our turn when my mom and him were here for Ava's adoption. Check out his handiwork.

Adoption Day!

2010-04-30T11:48:00.000-07:00

It's official! Ava is now and forever a Kolman. We had our adoption finalization on Wednesday morning amidst a whole host of family and friends who insisted on coming all the way to Denver to be a part of it. Initially, I always feel a little sheepish about that. I mean, the ceremony itself is all of about 5 minutes and it's not like, once the ceremony is over, things feel any different. In our hearts and in the hearts of our family and friends, Ava has been a Kolman since the first moment we heard about her. Nothing really changes in our eyes.

But, what I've come to realize is that, for my children, even though they are too young to really know it, that ceremony changes everything.

In that short ceremony, several key things happen. First, Loren and I agree to be providers of all that our children need. What a privilege, as one friend put it, to "take vows before your child, promising your life to her." If only all people were required to verbalize their commitment to love and provide for their children. *sigh*

Secondly, the court legally changes their names to reflect the name we have given them as well as our last name, and they are given all the rights and privileges of an heir. For better or worse, they officially become identified as a Kolman on that day. It's a good name to have, and brings with it an incredible legacy of service and compassion towards others and deep commitment to knowing Christ. But, as proud as I am to bestow that name on my kids, in that moment, what always makes me tear up is the fact that God has taken this child, separate from us in many ways, and placed them in our family. He has grafted each of my children into this family and somehow made them so fully ours that it is overwhelming.

Finally, the judge declares the final adoption order irrevocable. It's forever, and I don't need to reiterate the significance of that. It just is.

So, yeah. This ceremony. It's a real big deal. And I need to stop apologizing for thinking that. It seems only fitting that we, along with our family and friends stampede the courthouse, go through security and insist on bringing in cameras even when they aren't allowed, overwhelm the courtroom, cheer when it's over, require the judge to take a picture with everyone, and have a sweet little celebration party afterward. It's the least we could do!

All of us with the judge

The spread. My friend, Amy, offered to host all of us for our celebration. Brave...very brave. Thanks, Amy!

Ah...early signs of love. We are praying that at least one of our girls picks a Paschall boy as a mate. :)

Some of the women who make me a better mom...and who also act as surrogate moms, amongst plenty of other things. Love these girls and missed the ones who couldn't be there. You know who you are.

The girls with all the grandparents. They all traveled big time to come. So sweet.

Thank you to all of our family and friends who made it to the courthouse and to those who we know wanted to come and just couldn't. We are so grateful for your presence in our lives and for your commitment to us as well as to Ava. She is one lucky little girl to have all of you.

CAUTION: Gushing Ahead...

2010-04-24T20:57:00.000-07:00

This week, my little Hope has taken my breath away.

We had parent/teacher conferences this week and I left her little Kindergarten room with the biggest smile on my face. Most was what we expected. Hope is very smart. Hope has a lot of friends. Hope likes to talk a lot. Hope is a leader...even when no one wants her to be. :), e tc... And then, there was this.

Her teacher: "I have to just tell you this. Hope tends to see those students that other kids don't want to be with. She picks them to be her partner when we pick partners. She plays with them. She helps them with their work. And, we have one special needs student who we often can not understand when he speaks. Hope tells us what he's saying and she is almost always right."

I wanted to burst into tears. And I couldn't help but think that my little girl, who is, for sure, pretty stinkin' cute, but can also be such a sassy little thing at home, has a heart whose depths I am only just beginning to discover.

Then, today.

Our church, along with most other churches in our town have come together this weekend to share Christ's love all over our community in tangible ways. We are doing hundreds of projects all over town for anyone and everyone who needs it. So today, our small group, complete with the older kids in tow, got to be at the home of a sweet older lady who needed some fence and house painting done. Hope took an instant liking to Alfreda. I watched her gently take the hand of this older woman and walk up to her house with her, chatting all the time like they were old friends. Later, Alfreda invited all the kids in for cookies. (As a side note: Hope had already gotten a cookie when she went inside the first time and so Loren told her she could only have one more. Alfreda promptly told Hope that she was the boss and she said she could have two! If they weren't friends already, I would say their sassy spirits bonded right then.) After she got her cookies, Hope scampered off outside to play again with all her friends. But, I saw her head back there before too long.

Me: Where you goin, Hope?
Hope: Back inside to talk
Me: Oh. To who? Who's still in there?
Hope: (looking like I'm a moron) Alfreda
Me: Oh. (Be still my heart...tears pooling...blurred vision...overwhelming love for this child)

In the midst of all the hard parts of parenthood there comes this incredible richness. This constant discovering of my children. Bits at a time. In small doses. Because to see it all at once would most certainly cause my heart to explode. This week, I am thankful that somewhere along the way, Hope has learned kindness and compassion. And she has figured out that there is beauty waiting to be discovered in all kinds of people. Including herself.

I Think I Can....

2010-04-21T11:13:00.000-07:00

I'm gonna blog about this only because I need some accountability. A place where I have to write it all down and know that others will see it so that I make better choices. I'm not blogging about it because I think you might be the least bit interested in it. Sorry about that.

I am on a quest to eat healthier with the hopeful outcome that I might also lose about ten extra pounds while I'm at it. I AM NOT dieting. I hate dieting. So, here's how it's going...

Day 1:

tuna with apples, walnuts, and celery in a pita pocket for lunch...very yummy, very healthy and very friendly to my goals
hubby asks if he can take the family out for dinner...Chinese food - dinner out makes me very friendly towards my husband...not as friendly towards my diet.
successfully resisted the left over Easter candy I have been secretly sneaking from my children's baskets.

Day 2:

went to the gym and found out that my healthy choices last week (before I actually even started) have paid off. I'm down a pound. Here's hoping it's not water weight.

for lunch, a truly terrible Select Harvest soup called Roasted Chicken with Italian Herbs. It apparently had diced asparagus and chick peas in it. I hate chick peas...unless they are ground up, mixed with oil and garlic and called hummus.

for dinner, I have prepared lots of fresh steamed vegetables and a truly lovely chicken recipe from my sister. After trying to justify all day why I should have some of the gooey sauce that goes with the chicken, I have now resigned myself to the fact that tonight I will be eating a plain old chicken breast while everyone else gets the good stuff.

I think I can, I think I can , I think I can....

Together

2010-04-18T19:46:00.000-07:00

Saturday was the first totally free Saturday we've had in a long time. Too long. So, we decided to take full advantage of it. It was one of those beautiful overcast days where the cloud cover makes all the new greens and bright buds of spring look amazingly vibrant. So, even though it was slightly drizzly and a wee bit chilly, we just had to be outside. And we had to be on the riverwalk.We decided to go geocaching, which is kind of a fancy word for treasure hunting, using GPS navigators. The girls were totally into it and we found a couple of "caches" near the riverwalk.Of course, Ava did a lot of this

...which she seemed most pleased to do.

We walked for a while and relished the time we had to just be us. To just be together. It doesn't get much better than that.

A Recent Conversation

2010-04-05T13:17:00.000-07:00

In the car....

Hope: Dad, do you know the song, "Smack That?"

Loren: (cough, sputter) Uh. Yeah. Why?

Hope: Well, do we have it on our iPod?

Loren: No, Hope. That song is super inappropriate. Why do you even know about that song?

Hope: A kid at school has a little thing that plays songs and it's on there and he told us about it at show and tell. (nice...would have loved to see her teacher navigate that one)

Loren: Well, it's not a very nice song. (And then a fatherly dialogue about how some songs are like that and why we should be careful what we listen to, etc)

Hope: (trying to digest it all) So, is it rude?

Loren: Yeah. It's really rude.

End of story. And then, later that night...

Hope: Mom, did you know that there is a song called 'Smack That'" that my friend told me about and it is really rude.

Me: Yeah. I heard about that.

Hope: Yeah. It's really rude cause the song says, 'Smack that, get on the floor' and he doesn't even say PLEASE!

Me: (stifiling laughter) Well, that's terrible. You should always say please.

Hope: I know. It's really rude!

Ahhhh....you gotta love the innocence of kids.

Thoughts on Lent

2010-04-02T14:56:00.000-07:00

For Lent, Loren and I decided to give up sweets. Not sugar. That’s different, and obviously necessary for coffee and tea. Basically, things that were an extra treat, dessert, so to speak. Here have been some of my thoughts throughout the last 40 days:

“I mean, sure, I’m not gonna eat the cake I’m making but can’t I just lick the bowl with the batter? It just seems wasteful otherwise.”

“A dessert that someone makes especially for you must be eaten. It would be rude not to.”

“Cinnamon rolls are not dessert. They are breakfast. That’s different.”

“It’s Spring Break…and vacation! I’m not so legalistic that I can’t have one lousy dessert to celebrate!”

Yeah...I suck at Lent. So thankful for Good Friday and that it means that my Jesus gave it all, without cutting corners, when he sacrificed his life to give me mine. And…so thankful that Easter’s coming. Mostly because He is RISEN! And it has changed everything. But a little bit because I can eat cake again.

One of my favorite pictures from Spring Break

2010-03-27T10:29:00.001-07:00

More to come...

Hope and Grace

2010-03-21T13:18:00.000-07:00

Hope seems to be fixated on right and wrong lately. And, people, there are no gray areas as far as she can tell.

Here is an example. She fell apart once last week because her little neighbor friend was over and, while they were playing, her friend told a lie. I caught her right in the middle of it, too. Hope looked at me as if to say, "Hello...do something." And I did. I tried to gently correct this little girl and give her a way out, which, after a lot of prodding, she finally took and told the truth. Good for her. So, I let it go at that. Hope was so irritated with me and kept insisting that she had "lied! She LIED, mom!" I finally sent the little girl home so I could deal with my own. And I tried to explain to Hope that what she did was wrong, but that we had to have grace with people. That her friend had had a really tough life and it was a big deal that she had decided to tell the truth. We needed to try and be happy about that. She was not happy.

Earlier in the week she had a "great idea" on the way home from small group. "How about I make a chart." (I'm liking it so far. I LOVE charts!) "And every time Bella does something wrong, we make a mark on the chart. That way we have a record of it." Ugh. Not liking it so much anymore. I was glad she said the word "record", though (It's so funny that she said that, anyway. How would she even know what that meant?) because it quickly called to mind the verse in 1 Corinthians 13 that talks about how "love keeps no record of wrongs." Whew! That almost never happens for me. I almost never know a great verse off the top of my head for correcting my children. So, we chatted some about that and she seemed to understand.

I was frustrated, though. Why was Hope so obsessed with justice? Didn't we model grace and mercy in our home and with others? Where had we gone wrong? And then, as I read in Psalm one morning, I was struck by these words, "The Lord loves justice..." (11:7), "righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne..." (97:2), "I will sing of your love and justice..." (101:1). And God used it to speak to my heart. He reminded me to be thankful that Hope has a strong sense of right and wrong...cause she's gonna need it. And, he reminded me that understanding right and wrong is an essential part of understanding grace. So, that morning as I prayed for Hope, I thanked God for the work He was doing in her, a work that was preparing her for the many choices ahead. And I thanked him for what he would teach her about grace, through her understanding of right and wrong. That he was preparing her heart, even now, for a greater understanding of her need for him.

And then I thanked God that my sweet and sassy six year old, the first child that he lovingly enfolded into our story, would always be a reminder that while he loves justice, he is quite the show off when it comes to giving us a gazillion times more than we deserve.

Look At Me!!!!

2010-03-20T16:19:00.000-07:00

The Daddy/Daughter Dance

2010-03-15T15:10:00.000-07:00

On Saturday, Canon City held it's 3rd annual Daddy/Daughter Dance. What a fabulous tradition this has become. Loren had a track meet that morning and so I treated Hope and Bella to a spa day at home (when Ava was napping, of course). They each got their hands and feet soaked and lotioned, and the nails painted, all while drinking smoothies, of course. Then, we rolled their hair and pulled both their curly locks up into "princess buns", which, as you might imagine, is a very different process for Hope than it is for Bella. :) They both looked so cute and couldn't wait to put their dresses on. So, we did. Four hours early.

When Loren got home from the track meet he gave them both corsages, bought to match their dresses (aww!) and off they went to dinner and the dance. Lucky me! I got to watch some of it because I was helping to put it on. We had somewhere between 600-700 people there and it was so fun to see the girls come in on their dads arms looking, for all the world, as if they felt like royalty.

For a split second on Saturday morning I thought, "are we making too big a deal out of this? Are we setting it up so that our girls will have such high expectations that no average man will ever compare to their dads?" And then, in the same breath, I thought, "Heck ya! That's the point!" I want my daughters to have high expectations about how they should be treated and about what kind of man they want to be with. I want them to, some day, be walking down the aisle, or even just walking into dinner with the man they have chosen to spend the rest of their lives with and looking, for all the world, as if they feel like royalty.

And, I know if their daddy has anything to do with it, they will.

Fear

2010-03-11T10:23:00.000-08:00

Whew! It's been awhile. Let me tell you why.

Loren and I, both of us, work with teenagers. He works with Young Life and does some amazing work walking alongside of teenagers who have, virtually, no interest in Christ, or Christians, and, least of all, any form of church. He gets to introduce them to Jesus, the real one, the one that is so much more than all the images and misinterpretations they have in their heads. He gets an up close view of the dark places in their lives and gets to speak Light, and really whet their appetites with a taste of full life. It's an amazing thing to watch and, when they really get it, it's a bonafide miracle.

I get to walk alongside some precious girls in our youth group at church. They are some of my most favorite people in all the world and I am so humbled by the way they have allowed me into their little worlds. We get to work through God's Word together and we get to discover, together, how it needs to change us. And, sometimes...sometimes (because honesty about the dark desires of our hearts are far harder to share for us good church girls) we have shockingly honest conversations.

The result of that for me in the last few weeks has been this: I have never been more scared to raise my children than I am right now. And it had me off and running.

And, for a while, fear ruled. My mind began making lists of all the things I could do to keep my kids safe, to keep them hanging out with the right people, to keep them happy, to keep them confident, to make sure they loved God for real (not just said they did), to keep them talking to us, to make sure their lives went the way they are supposed to. Which, of course, means that they grow up and only make mistakes that are fairly benign and will cause them no real harm or shame, and that they settle comfortably into adulthood with no major baggage from childhood.

And, honestly, I want those things because I love them so much. I know that God can use anything and everything for his glory. I know that he can draw them to him out of any circumstance. But, I also know that my deep desire is for that ideal scenario. You know, the one where they are raised in such a healthy way by parents who love God so much that it is only natural for them to love Him as well and to live out of that love. And, I don't really think that's a wrong desire. (It would be wrong for me to be demanding of God in that desire, "You better do this or else"...but, in general, not a wrong desire. Maybe hope is a better word...It's what I hope for.)

But, as it happened these last few weeks, my hope turned into fear. I was fearful about being able to do all that I needed to do in order for this little scenario to work out. I was fearful about what part other people, teenagers, etc. would play in their lives and how I would even begin to know what to do about that. And, I was fearful that, even with all my good intentions their little wicked hearts (how dare them!) would conspire against us (were even now conspiring) and would derail all our good work. It seemed overwhelming and somewhere along the way I began to sink into the sea of fear, grabbing at little buoys of hope whenever I could.

And then, this weekend, at a retreat, I was challenged about fear. The speaker said something that stuck out to me. She said that, too often, we make a place for fear in our lives. We give it a comfy little home in our hearts because, after all, isn't it good to have a certain kind of healthy fear about some things? Aren't we motivated to good things by fear? And besides, we have become comfortable with certain levels of fear and have even decided that they are loving in some regards. Uh...yeah....that's me.

And, as I began to look up scriptures (surely there is some mention of those healthy fears) I began to see that fear, besides, of course, the fear of the Lord, has no real place in our lives. In fact, over and over in the bible I saw negative references to fear. Fears about what God had commanded. Fear about his promises not coming true. Fear that puts walls between God and his people. And it just started to seem like fear was another way of saying, a lack of trust in God. And, I guess it is.

I'm not saying that we can't acknowledge fear when it comes up. When I hear about what is happening inside our high schools, what is happening among kids who know the Lord and who come from great homes, I get scared. I get scared for those kids and for my own kids and what it might be like for them in ten years. But, I know I can't let it take over. I can't let it make me doubt that God is trustworthy, or that he has ordained all the days of my children's lives before one of them even came to be. I can't let it make me work harder, and pray less. And I can't let it make hope something I vaguely see on the horizon every once in a while when I am able to breathe for a second. All of those things pull me in a direction opposite of where I am supposed to be headed...more trust, more understanding, more fellowship with God, more faith. And that can't be right.

So instead, I am doing a different kind of work. I am memorizing and meditating on Proverbs 31:10-31, one of my favorite passages, often called the "The Wife of Noble Character." And I'm doing it, not because memorizing and meditating have made my super valuable (insert sarcasm here) list of things I need to do to make life work right. I'm doing it because I need to read it and say it over and over. To let it find it's way into the cracks of my faith. To let it remind me of the woman I want to become, that I am becoming. That woman, "is clothed with strength...speaks with wisdom and faithful instruction...looks well to the ways of her household...LAUGHS at the days to come...and fears the Lord." Yeah...that's what I really want.

Hats!

2010-03-11T09:50:00.000-08:00

Oh yeah! And I have been making these! So fun! Very simple and very fast. Aren't they so cute? I mean, sure, Ava's cuteness really takes them up a notch, but still....

Songbird

2010-02-21T14:01:00.000-08:00

This is what I encounter in the car on a regular basis from little miss Bella. That girl loves to sing (which is such a joy to me...you have NO idea!). And, I especially love her passionate rendition of this song. Thanks, Amy, for the Ingrid Michaelson c.d. As you can tell, we are quite enjoying it.

And, just because it is so pretty...a picture my dad took while playing with the girls during an crazy snowstorm in TEXAS...of all places. Love, love, love this picture. He captured her perfectly.

Donuts

2010-01-29T05:11:00.000-08:00

Now that Hope is in school, where, apparently, she only gets mere seconds to eat her lunch, thus accounting for the fact that she can finish her yogurt and her pretzels and even the little piece of chocolate I packed for a surprise, but can not even begin on her beautifully healthy sandwich, three o'clock has become like an additional meal time. She comes home starving and so I have tried to come up with some snacks that would take the edge off her hunger and not ruin her dinner. Most of the time it's something fairly healthy. Yesterday...yeah...not so much.

Yesterday, I fed her a little treat from my childhood. Something my mom used to give us every once in a while after school. Yesterday, I fried donuts. I can remember so clearly coming home, every once in a while, to a plate of hot donuts, freshly glazed. Yum. It was a special treat and one that I, er, Hope needed yesterday.

Here's how it's done in case you want to know. And, believe me, you do. Regular refrigerated biscuit dough is my accomplice here. Cut holes in those suckers and fry them up in some hot oil. Then, glaze with powdered sugar, a drop of vanilla, and tiny bit of milk. I'd give you exact measurements but I don't really know. I just mix it until it seems thick enough. Here's a hint, though. Start with a tablespoon of milk for about a cup of powdered sugar. I always put in too much milk and then have to add powdered sugar and, consequently end up with about 42 cups of glaze. If you want, add chocolate syrup to your glaze for chocolate donuts. And, if you really want to show off, add sprinkles.

Yeah...I think they liked it. And no, we didn't eat all of those yesterday...there are two left...okay, one and half.

Enough

2010-01-26T15:44:00.000-08:00

Lately, I’ve been hanging out a lot inside my head, and the company leaves a little to be desired. On most days, I wonder if I really have enough of what it takes to raise three little ones whose needs are more than I seem to be capable of.

There are some things that are easy about having a third baby. I don’t struggle with a lack of information…those, “I have no idea what I am doing” moments. And, multitasking is, I would say, a strong suit at this point. In some ways, I feel more relaxed as a mother than I ever have. No, it isn’t those kinds of things. I struggle more with wondering if I am doing enough with all of them. Am I giving them enough individual time? Are they suffering because my time is limited? Will they struggle later because I didn’t have enough to go around? And so, while I know I can feed a baby, cuddle with a toddler who has just woken up from a nap, and throw out sight word flash cards to a kindergartner all at the same time, I am often left wondering if any of them really got my best today.

And it makes me a little sad. Okay, it’s slightly more intense than that. Truthfully, it makes me want to crawl into my bed and weep. I so desperately want them all to have my very best. And what if they don’t? What if what I am capable of is not enough? What if they grow up to be different people than they would have if I could’ve been more?

There are three things these days that keep me from being on the floor in a heap. 1.) I know, I KNOW, that God led us on this journey of adoption all THREE times. And I know that his hand was on the timing of it all. He knows what I need and, more importantly to me, what THEY need. And, he who changed the water to wine and made 5 loaves and 2 fish feed thousands of hungry people can take whatever I offer and increase it beyond what is even needed. 2.) Fear of what could potentially happen has never been a helpful or motivating tool in my life. It has only ever served to make me more crazy than I already am and to inflict wounds of self doubt that take a LOT of energy to heal. And, frankly, I am short on extra energy these days. And 3.) I heard Beth Moore say once that she believed that we, too often, protect our children from the wrong things. We try to protect them from having to learn patience and we try to protect them far too often from their own neediness. They can not be filled up by us as parents. We want so much to be everything they need, but when we make that our goal, we fail them in a far greater way. We rob them of the understanding of their neediness and that makes it harder for them to desire God.

I have to say, I wish I felt a little more comfort in knowing that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so grateful that God can redeem my failures and shortcomings, but it does little to soothe the ache that comes with knowing there are ways in which I fail my family. And I guess that makes it my turn to offer my neediness up to God, and to embrace that my desire for more can only be met in Him...and the subsequent revelation that he is more than enough. And, I guess that’s a lot better than thinking you aren’t enough and that it’s ruining your kid’s lives.

It’s definitely better than that.

Milestones

2010-01-17T20:38:00.000-08:00

Today was a big day for two of the Kolman girls. Ava was dedicated in church. Yeah! However, I'm afraid that little milestone might have been overshadowed by one of my own. I wore my hip little bubble dress with my heather grey leggings. On stage. In front of everyone.

Yep. I'm cool and now everyone knows it.

Secretly, I'm still not sure I can really pull that style off...but here's to believing that people actually mean it when they say I looked cute...and to shunning the belief that they are only commenting because they clearly felt the need to say something about my outfit and, "Wow, you are way too old for leggings and a bubble dress" sounds really mean.

I like it. I wore it. And I like to think I rocked it. A big day, indeed...

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And now....I am officially on sabbatical from my blog. I'm exhausted and clearly out of interesting things to talk about. I'm sure it won't last long. But, my commitment thus fulfilled, I'll get to it when I get to it.

Birthmoms and Birthdays

2010-01-15T16:14:00.001-08:00

I mentioned earlier this week that we had a birthday party for Bella and that her birthmom, Corrie, came. It was such a significant experience for me, in our journey with Bella and her birthmom, and I have wanted to post about it, but have found it so hard to write about. Hmmm...that seems to happen a lot in regards to birth parents. I guess it's because the relationship is sort of complex, and truthfully, I'm not even sure I understand what I am feeling half the time. But, it's worth a try.

So, sometime in early December I asked Corrie to consider coming to Bella's birthday party. It was an honest invitation and I really hoped she would come. But, I wasn't sure she would. Corrie has had a very emotional journey and it has been hard for her, in ways that I know I can never really understand, to deal with the reality of placing a child for adoption. I grieve for her. I pray for her. I deeply desire healing for her. But, I know I can't truly understand what she has been through.

I was surprised the weekend before when she texted me to say that she and her mom would love to come. Love to! I was so excited, and so terrified all at once. And here is why. Here is the dynamic when we get to see Corrie or her family. And...let me just say, that this dynamic is entirely created by me. All me. Because they are perfectly lovely. I feel anxiety for the following reasons: 1.) Will they think we are doing a good job with Bella? 2.) Will she behave and if she doesn't what will they think about us? (Anyone who knows Bella knows that my fear that she will be a rebellious lunatic child is completely laughable.) 3.) Will they interpret her shyness as her not liking them and then, will they think we aren't talking about them often enough or favorably enough. 4.) Do they wish, the entire time we are there, that they had never agreed to place her for adoption, that they didn't have to have this relationship with us? 5.) I must make this a memorable visit. "Go climb in her lap, Bella. Let them read you a story, Bella. Give hugs and kisses, Bella." And the list could go on and on and on. It is agonizing. And, again, it is all me. They have been so kind and so generous with their compliments and assurances of their confidence in us. They have been the ideal birth family. Seriously ideal. We are spoiled in terms of birth families.

But still, I wonder. And so, when they said they were coming, I felt glad. Really, truly glad. And also terrified. Slightly terrified. I knew it would be awesome for them to see Bella in her own element. She would be more herself and not as shy and they would really enjoy that. But, I also wondered what they would think of her element...namely our little (tiny) house and our little town. (Ugh. I am rolling my eyes at myself as I am writing this.) So, that little project I wrote about in the last post...yeah, that was done a few days prior to the party. Yes, I had planned on doing it after the first of the year and yes, I am thankful that it is done and over. But, yes, part of me was strongly motivated by the fact that Corrie and her mom were coming and everything needed to be perfect (eye roll).

The day of the party, they arrived and jumped right in. It was so lovely to have them there, meeting our friends, watching Bella play with her precious little friends, snapping pictures in the background, and enjoying Bella at her best. And I didn't have to force any memories, because they came naturally. And Corrie seemed to really enjoy herself. And that is huge.

See, I think part of the complexity of this relationship for me is that I, like every other decent person, don't like to watch those I love experience pain. And, I am painfully aware that my presence, when we are all together, causes some pain for Corrie. Who am I kidding? It's probably excruciating. I get to do what a big part of her would like to be doing. I get to be the mommy. And I can't imagine how that must feel. And so, I try desperately to make up for that fact with perfectness and memories and sweet new rooms. "Now it doesn't hurt so much, right? This awesome pink room totally makes up for the fact that I get to live life with this precious child, right?" (eye roll) It's exhausting. And, again...all created by me.

But, the day of Bella's party, somehow all of that was set aside. On that day, it felt like we were both just grateful for the role that each of us gets to play in her life. I felt totally comfortable being the mommy in front of Corrie and I felt such deep gratitude for her as I watched her and Bella make a bookmark together, their heads smooshed together so intently, and looking so similar. Nothing...nothing but gratitude for this mother who gave life to my child. And I relaxed and stopped trying to make it less messy than it is. And, when I did that, I was able to enjoy it's unique kind of beauty.

There will always be a certain amount of grief that is all tied up in adoption. I think I made that clear in this post. And, I know that it isn't my job to make it go away. I love Corrie, though, and so I know I may continue to struggle, for a while, with wanting to make it better. But, I hope that I am also learning to welcome it as a testament to how much my children are loved. I hope that, eventually, it causes them to understand the great sacrifice their birthmoms made on their behalf and that it speaks loudly to them of their great value. And mostly, I hope that it points them to the Man of Sorrows, himself. He who is well acquainted with suffering and sacrifice and who works out his good plans for us in ways that we don't always understand. Hmmm...sounds familiar...

Hope and Bella's New Room

2010-01-14T13:40:00.000-08:00

I wanted to post pictures of Hope and Bella's new room. I have wanted, for some time, to change up their room. Mostly this is because their room had previously been only Hope's room. When Bella moved in in March to share a room with her sister...something they were both very excited about, she continued to call it Hope's room. It made me think that it would be fun to give it a total makeover. Something that they could both have input on and then it would really feel like theirs and not just Hope's. And, it is always good to change things up every now and then so it also sounded like a lot of fun!

If I had pictures to show of the old room, I would. It was very different than this one. It had three green walls (I think the exact color was Basil) and one wall with 24, 16 in. polka dots in all kinds of bright colors. So cute...if I do say so myself. :) Here is the new one:

The Bedding.
I seriously could not have done a better job if I had chosen myself. But, you have to believe me when I say that I DID NOT choose this for them. I was determined to let them pick it out...and that is kind of a hard thing for me. They liked this one because it has ruffles and they both love blue. This was from Target's Shabby Chic Children's line. LOVE IT!

I finally figured out what to do with the closet. I took the doors off right after we moved in because they were circa 1970 wood paneling and UGLY. But, I had never replaced them with anything because I couldn't find curtains that were long enough since the doors reach all the way to the ceiling. I am so mad at myself that I didn't realize that a twin size sheet is exactly 8 feet and so that, plus a simple tension rod is a perfect solution. Really? $20 could've fixed it 4 years ago? Ugh! Don't you hate when you do something like that? I found this sweet little Laura Ashley sheet set at Ross (gotta love Ross) and it is a cute little accent.

There is pink in the bedding and so that was the chosen color for the walls. It is such a sweet color. The letters for their names are a little project that I saw online and it is super simple. I got the wooden letters at Hobby Lobby and covered them in scrapbook paper in colors and patters that complimented the bedding. So fun!

Here is a closer look. Seriously, it took me about an hour to make and hang both of their names. I love when something so simple can make such a huge difference.

The girls love how it all turned it out and so do I. Now...onto the next project...

Pictures

2010-01-13T20:50:00.000-08:00

Here are some cute pictures of my kids. And yes...I'm stalling.

Note to self: Self, in the future please don't be so quick to promise, in writing, that you will post every day. Let's keep in mind that you have very little time to yourself and, being the kind of person who writes, rewrites, edits, obsesses over, and then erases it all and writes it again, this kind of commitment makes us want to chop off our fingers so as to avoid any future ridiculous promises. Kindly, Self

a beauty shot...Holy Cow!

For some reason I love this picture of Ava. I think she looks so big here.

This picture of Bella captures her perfectly. She is all joy!

We loved this little dress that Nana sent for Christmas. And, I was pretty proud of the little headband I made.

No, Hope doesn't actually wear glasses, but she asked for some for her birthday and we found some really cute ones with plastic lenses in them. It was her favorite gift and she wears them all the time. Especially when she's reading. :)

All cozy and smiley after bathtime.

Okay, I know this is borderline obscene but I had to show you this picture of Bella in the outhouse at the Ranch. The girls did so good with it. Look how happy she is to be freezing her little tooshie off! What a trooper!

Love this one of Hope and Ava. Both the girls are unbelievably in love with this baby.

This is not the greatest picture but I had to throw it in because it tells the story of our life right now. It's blurry cause I can almost never catch everyone in the same place at the same time. Hope is incredibly composed and flashing us her brilliant smile. Bella is trying to get in on the action and Ava looks like, "would someone please get me out of here!?!" Yep. That pretty much sums it up.

Goodness and Sacrifice

2010-01-12T13:06:00.000-08:00

Our pastor preached an amazing sermon recently. I am incredibly blessed to be in a church with a pastor who has been there for over 25 years and not because he or our congregation doesn't like change. He's been there for that long because he has faithfully preached the Word and has shepherded and loved his congregation well...and believe me, it hasn't always been easy.

Two Sundays ago he preached on Genesis 22. This is the passage where God asks Abraham to sacrifice his son, Isaac. Pastor Jim said that in his 25 plus years of ministry he has never taught on this passage. Never. Do you know why? Because he hated it. Hated it. (Oh the impish kind of thrill it gave me to hear him say that! I felt instantly bonded to him.) To him, it seemed inconsistent with his picture of who God was and he found it hard to reconcile it in his mind. Years and years and years of trying to reconcile it. God is a loving and faithful father. How could he ever ask someone to do such a thing? But, as Jim is so good at doing, he felt unmistakably that it was time to preach on this passage and so he did. And it shined a light for me in some dark places.

He preached the sermon, in part, on obedience. We obey, Abraham obeyed, because it is God who asks. And God knows infinitely more than we do. His ways are not like ours and he sees the bigger picture in ways that we will never understand. Hebrews 11, that famous roll call of faithful believers says that "by faith, Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice." His faith in who God was allowed him to offer all he had with no guarantee about how it might turn out. We obey when we don't understand because he is God.

Then, he went on to talk about the goodness of God and how if we are insistent on measuring his goodness by our own standards we will miss a great deal of it. He said that if we follow Christ, and we are asked to choose between God and evil, the choice seems clear. Of course, we would choose God. But, the reality is that sometimes we are asked to choose between good, and God. Something that we believe to be good, or even is actually good, and God. We are asked to give up our children, to believe that when they suffer or when they are taken from us, that God is still working, still bringing about good. Or we are asked to let go of some dream, something we once knew was given to us by Him, in order to follow God. And those decisions are a little tougher. They take some grit. They hurt and they make us wonder what kind of God we serve. And we are tempted to ignore him or to just say no. We are tempted to offer up some other less important thing in hopes it will pacify him for the time being. We are tempted to hold tighter, thinking that, in time, he will see things our way and change his mind. But, here is the kicker. Jim said something about this that has stuck with me and will continue to for a long time. He said, "The risk here is that we will not let God do a work in us that is beyond our grasp." That we would refuse to let him do a work that defies our ideology, even our unknowingly twisted theology about who he is. We don't understand his goodness when it doesn't look like ours. And so, we get angry. I get angry. I justify my break from communion with him because I feel like he's not answering my prayers. And then, not only do I miss the good he is doing, I also miss his most tender care of me. It is most tender because he is well acquainted with the sacrifice of something so precious.

Theories about suffering are just that when you aren't really suffering. They are just theories. They are what I hope to gently offer people who are in the midst of it now, and they are how I hope and pray that I will respond when I am asked to sacrifice something that I can't bear the thought of losing. But, I also know that this sermon wasn't just for those who are suffering or for my own future reference. There is truth in it for me right now. I needed to hear that I absolutely have to cast aside my preconceived notions about what is good. I needed to hear that I can never elevate a good gift above the Giver himself. And I needed to hear that my obedience to His call to sacrifice should be swift and certain because I know whom I serve.

It was a good sermon. It hit it's mark and has continued to penetrate. Hear it for yourself here. It is from 1/3/10. He does a much better job than I do.