Saying Goodbye

Oldest Son's 16th Birthday (2 years ago)

As we continue to make our preparations for moving to The Philippines, I can feel something strange and a little sad happening.  A shift in my thinking. 

I consider how old and ragged my couch  is looking.  I think "there's no need to replace it. We won't be here . . ."

I consider my daughter and second-oldest son's high school graduations and then catch myself . . . "oh, they'll be in The Philippines then."   And I feel sad and happy . . . the word "sappy" was created just for thoughts like these.

We have been blessed with tremendous friends and family here in the good old US of A . . . and I can't think about the void that will be left in my heart when I have to consider the time difference, the reliability of my internet and the cost when I want to reach out and touch someone.

But even more than my own sad and weird feelings, I am sad for my children.  THEY have made some wonderful friends, too.

Thanksgiving at Our House

Our boys with Two Great Friends at the Beach

Kyky's birthday with his favorite friends

Lunch With Family and Daughter's Close Friend

 Leaving family makes things doubly hard although I know there are airplanes and we will need to see them just as much as they will need us.  Of this, I am certain.

"MY side" at Oldest Son's Graduation Party

Uncle Jr with our sweet Angel Baby 

There is also a giddy thought that keeps my heart full of joy even though we leave so many behind.
It is the off chance, just the possibility, that after so many years of praying for Lemuel's oldest biological brother and writing so many senators( and even the President )to try to bring him to the US  and no one could help because immigration law does not allow for a young man of his age to be adopted, it might just happen in the most unexpected way . . . we will come to him.

And even at almost 22 years old, with many  there who love and care for him already, he has room for eight more people in his life.  Maybe, despite the many he has called "Mom", he would be willing to say that to this white lady who has sent him boxes and skyped with him over the years but never been able to visit in person. 
This young man has never left my heart and always has been in my prayers.   I think of his hard work just to speak some English to his little brother when they skype. And how he sang "Who Am I" by Casting Crowns to us over skype the first time we talked . . . and I felt like a ninny because it made me cry.    And every time it seemed time to end the skype, Ariel would say "Lem, Lem" and I could visibly see him trying to think of something more to talk about so they could have a little more time .

And when I pray for him now,  I refer to him as my "one", thinking of the parable of leaving the 99 sheep for the "one that was lost".  Even though he isn't lost, we know right where he is and who is watching over him, it seems he has been without blood relatives for far too long.  And we have his blood brother right here.  Seems simple enough . . .

As if adding another son to this full and blessed quiver wasn't enough, there's the ministry we get to do. We will have the privilege of going to many different orphanages to do play therapy and screening with visually impaired orphans.  We get the chance to put our hands on these fatherless boys and girls and tell them how precious they are!  We can build relationship with these children and, Lord willing, help them find their families.  Most importantly, we will be able to tell them about their Heavenly Father, who made them and loves them and has a plan for each one of them.

So focusing on Ariel and focusing on the children, I think I can do this "goodbye" thing. 
I know it won't be easy on any of us but I also know that Ephesians tells me I serve a God who does "immeasurably more than we ask or imagine" . . . so much more . . . and if those things I am imagining are THIS great, I look forward to seeing what the "MORE" will look like!

It's not quite time for official goodbyes yet but I feel the shift. The time is drawing near.
I have never had to trust so much in my life.  But our faithful Father is paving the way and
turning our hearts toward The Philippines in new ways.

And we wait . . . and expect . . . and follow . . .

Why Date?

I dated as a teen.  Too much.  With little discretion and often times just to say I had a boyfriend.
This was long before the "in a relationship" facebook status made your friends flip out and you could be locally famous for a little while. . .

Many of my friends, whom I consider to be wonderful parents let their teens "date". It is an individual choice with which every family must assess it's comfort level.

But my teens don't date.  That's our personal conviction and I'll tell you why . . . it's plain and simple, really.  It's not something we can point to one verse in the Bible and say with confidence "see, dating is a sin".  Because it isn't.   But we discourage it for one primary reason . . . .

We don't want our children to give their hearts away, over and over, with scores of "I love yous" to people who are just passing through.  The kind of stirred up emotions you feel for that person you are dating are so intense.  He is "yours" and you are "his".  There's a claim being staked with no long-term commitment.  Even in a dating relationship that stays very pure, the emotions are a freight train and they can carry your heart away . . . again and again as you search for that "just right" person. It only ends up in pain and awkwardness because, let's face it, so few of us have found our "one and only" at 16 years old that technically, it is just practice with some game playing thrown in. 

That's it, in a nutshell.   

There's really no need to "practice being in a relationship" before that one special person comes along.

How much more precious will that best friend turned lifetime partner feel when he/she understands that you waited for them, not just with your sexual purity but with your heart and devotion as well. 

How much more committed will that marriage be when you can honestly say your spouse is the first and only person who captured your heart and gave you all those pit-of-the-stomach, can't-wait-to-see-you feelings?  

I imagine it would be spectacular. But I can only imagine because I was a serial dater from 15 years old until I finally met my sweet husband at age 23.   How I wish I had insisted on friendship only and never said "I love you" to others . . . it muddies the waters.  It just does.

Plenty of opportunities for my older teens to be "in a relationship" have presented themselves. They have had many interested parties over the years.  When my teens tell those suitors they prefer to stay "just friends" (and I have actually had the honor of hearing this said), some stay as friends and others choose to move on.   And it's a great winnowing process for them. 

And those who stay are smart.  Because one of these days, one of those wonderful friendships will turn into "the real thing".  And only the Lord knows which one.

So to those parents who have chosen to allow your teens to date, to be "in a relationship" long before that child or his bf/gf have the money, maturity or desire to make it a marriage, I ask you to consider what the benefits might be?  Does it make your teen feel more "normal"?  Wanted? Is it filling a void that should be filled within the family or by a deeper walk with Christ? Is it just your teen following the herd? 

There should be purpose to the decisions we make.  Even these. 

Again, please see my heart on this issue. Allowing your teen to "date", especially one who is spiritually  grounded, raised to respect others,  and who has the uncommon ability to put others before himself is NOT a sin.   It is a highly personal decision.

We just chose "no". 

If you haven't chosen yet, because your children are young or are simply disinterested in that facet of life at this point, pray through it with seriousness.   It matters . . .

Something for Nothing

This morning in my devotion time, I began reading Matthew 19 starting in verse 16. It's the story that so many of us have heard about the "rich young ruler".  The young man tells Jesus he has kept every commandment and wants to know what else he has to do to go to Heaven.  Jesus tells him to sell all he has and give to the poor.  The young man goes away from Jesus very sad . . . because he is rich.

And his money was a stronghold. An idol. 


And we all have strongholds, don't we?  Things that have to be pried from our clenched fists if we are to live truly radical lives for the sake of the gospel.

This notion weighs heavily on me when I think about FUNDRAISING for an adoption.  We did it. We would do it again.  We had yard sales, plant sales, raffles, restaurants willing to give us a percentage of their earnings on a given day if we get scads of our friends to come and eat there . . . we benefited MIGHTILY from our fund raisers and we would do them again if God called us to adopt another child - we would have to !

We also received unsolicited donations from family and friends in varying amounts. We were often blown away during our adoptions by a knock at the door or a trip to the mailbox that yielded hundreds - once THOUSANDS -of dollars coming into our waiting hands.  Oh, how blessed we have been by the body of Christ!  How lavished in love and doted upon by those we serve with or even those we know casually.  When God moved hearts for our adoption, He used a bulldozer and a crane!

It was so humbling for us.  Just thinking of it makes my eyes brim with tears. People who have bills to pay, children to raise, cars to repair and groceries to buy gave money to our family to bring a child from another land, whom they had never met, into our home.  God stuff!

But we also had to work and sacrifice to bring our angels home.   THIS is where I step onto thin ice and probably a few toes.  

I see hopeful adoptive families posting one fund raising idea after another and most involve raffling off items that were donated to them for free.  I think this can be a GOOD THING, but not always.

Let me ask you, adoptive family, how FAR are you willing to go to bring that precious child home?
Are you willing to . . . .
sell one vehicle and share with your spouse?
take little Johnny and Suzie out of karate, piano or private school for a short time?
eat ramen noodles and stay away from all restaurants for awhile?
make your coffee at home?
sell those purses, extra tools, stereo equipment or electronic gadgets?
cut off your cable or dish and use those pesky rabbit ears for a few months?
take on a babysitting job or deliver pizzas at night?
use the parks and the library for entertainment rather than the movie theater and mall?

How many have turned away from this list sad . . . or angry?  How many are thinking things like "MY kids shouldn't have to sacrifice and suffer for the calling of their parents?" Or "the church needs to step up and care for orphans and widows?" .   I think it.  It's true.

Well isn't that orphan YOUR kid, too? Or he less important than the well-loved, adored, nurtured children that came from your own womb? 

No, he isn't.  He is equal even now.

We say we, as Followers of Christ, want to be radical.  Start now!  Live so simply that you can stand faultless before the Lord during your adoption process and say, as David did when offered a free animal to sacrifice . . .
"I will not offer to the Lord my God that which cost me nothing"  Samuel 24:24

Please, continue to fund raise, online raffle, send support letters to fellow Believers . . . those are all GOOD things and profitable in many ways.

But never discount that God may be calling you to "give it all" ... dig deeper . . . sacrifice more . . .
 turn those pockets inside out for that missing family member.

And I can assure you, Johnny and Susie will be fine.  Their character over their immediate gratification . . . holiness over happiness . . . but sometimes you can have both.

Just watch and see!

And fire up the pot . . . break out the ramen . . . and count it all joy.

SO VERY WORTH IT . . .

We've Come a Long Way, Baby

June 12th marked six years since our much-smaller-then family piled into our old Ford, Windstar and took the two-hour drive to the children's psychiatric hospital.
Six years since we claimed a very scared but awfully cute 8 year old boy as our fourth child.

 It was the consummate case of "blind leading the blind".  Sure, we had adopted once before but never a child with a LABEL,  never a child from not one, but two disrupted placements, never a child that had been in the United States for just under seven months but experienced the pain of three adult lifetimes in that span.

It has been six years since the wave that rolled our boat, but never capsized us completely, hit our safe little nest that I so carefully feathered to keep out all the "bad things".

Six years since I lost the title of "The Most Together Mom You'll Ever Meet"  a title I bestowed on myself and based on my ability to reiterate the wisdom of others but that had never been earned through painful lessons and in-the-trenches parenting.

It has been six years since a child who felt truly unlovable,  and told me so, buckled up in that mini van to give family life one more go.  Because he had no power except the power to rage.  And he put all his effort into flexing that muscle beginning on the second day home.

Six years since the Lover of our Souls said "I have some immense work to do in one little family in North Carolina and this might hurt a bit . . . ."

Six years since I had the first glimpses into what true depression must feel like. And it was terrifying. And I understand now why someone would run . . . not walk . . . to the nearest pharmacy, or ABC Store and do anything it takes to make that feeling go away.   I never knew.

Six years since we stopped blaming bad parenting everytime we saw a kid coming unglued in a public place. We give the benefit of the doubt these days.

  So very long ago that we watched our other children learning painful spiritual lessons and rather than taking great measures to ease the pain, we recognized it for what it was and turned silently to our Father in prayer.

This little family is living proof that our ways are not His ways and our thoughts are not His thoughts. But that His are higher, grander, more far reaching, penetrating, succinct and not to be trifled with.

Six years since we lay between the rails on the train tracks and just cried out to God while the locomotive barreled by, inches from our faces.

We knew we were in the presence of a Great Work.  And as much as we longed to leave the classroom, we dared not.

SIX MONTHS . . . it has been about six months since our Father chose to heal our precious boy!
Six months since we sat up, blinked, looked at things through new eyes and said "that wasn't so bad".

                                            Lem( on the right -blue shirt) visiting biological brother
                                            who was adopted into a different family six years ago.

The Word of the Lord is true and altogether trustworthy.  I know this lesson and it has taken six years to digest it.  The healing of the Lord is complete.  I know this, too. It has taken me six months to believe it.

Psalm 30:5 says "weeping may last for a night but joy comes in the morning". 
Six years made for a long night.  Six months has been a beautiful morning.

Isaiah 61:3 says
To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the LORD has planted for his own glory.

We have tasted and seen that the Lord is good. In sorrow and in joy.  In weeping and laughter, in tearing down and building up.  His peace sustains and his righteous right hand upholds.

Faithful God . . . fulfilling His purposes . . . never leaving nor forsaking.

Never giving us the shortcut to learning but holding our hands in each trial.

Thank you, Father.  You've brought us so far... in just six short years!

The Pat Robertson "Thing"

Much has been made over the recent inflammatory comments made Pat Robertson, founder and president of the 700 Club, regarding international adoption.
If you have somehow been in hypersleep and missed the whole cause of the hubub, you can view it at:



The phrases like "somebody else's problems", "wierd" and "take on the United Nations" were most certainly the most provocative words he used but the sentiment is what really caused my jaw to drop. The notion that orphans are "somebody else's problem" is just simply not Biblical, Mr. Robertson! We are Believers. Orphans are OUR "problem" until Jesus comes back and sets this broken world straight. As far as I can tell, that hasn't happened yet and so, yes, they are our "problem"!

In defense of Mr. Robertson, he did issue a written apology via the 700 Club's web site. I read it yesterday but was unable to locate it today to link it to this blog post. Interesting!

After I watched Mr. Robertson's comments for the first time, I ventured over to my adoption-Mama-heavy list of FB friends and felt sad at their comments. There almost seemed a "let's go get him, Ladies" type of fervor that did not feel very loving, forgiving or Christ like to me. Some Mamas could not let this thing rest and posted copious statuses (or is the plural "statusi" . . . ha ha) reminiscent of beating the proverbial dead horse. I considered unfriending these obsessed chicks but decided against it and did a little digging of my own. Far away from the annals of facebook.

Even more shocking than the initial statements Mr. Robertson made, possibly brought on by early stages of dementia or abhorrent theology - or both- were the connections that kept popping up between Pat Robertson and Charles Taylor, the exiled dictator of Liberia who was recently convicted at the Hague of atrocious war crimes against his own people and those of neighboring countries. Much evidence that Mr. Robertson owns diamond and gold mines in those parts of Africa and used near-slave labor (7 cents a day for wages) to extract natural resources from the countries of Liberia and Sierra Leone has surfaced. The evidence I uncovered was broad, vast and from a number of sources, not just Anti-Christian, Anti-Robertson camps but main stream media and even more conservative sources. Do some homework. You will be unpleasantly surprised.

I know the 700 Club and Operation Blessing have improved the lives of countless impoverished people around the world - more people than I could hope to touch in ten lifetimes, but I can't get past the wondering if it more restitution than service to the poor for the sake of the cross.

Doing for those who can not give back to you one iota except their "thanks" and lending an ear to the gospel seems "pure religion" (James 1:27). Digging wells for people since you're in the neighborhood mining their diamonds and inadvertently putting weapons in the hands of their oppressors, not so much.

Maybe I should have never watched "Cry Freetown" on youtube. (see warning about this video in my previous post). Maybe then it would have been easy to shrug off the connection between Robertson and the diamond mines with an "at least he's bringing jobs to the country".

Yes, fellow Believers, we must forgive Mr. Robertson his callous, thoughtless comments about our hard-won treasures from around the world. He has asked for forgiveness and we are not allowed to withhold it as our Heavenly Father would never withhold forgiveness when we ask.

But to those who support him monthly with donations. To those who sponsor projects through his 700 Club, I beseech you to do your homework and dig deeply.

We will have to give an account for our actions, or lack of action, now that we know.

And let's pray together that the Lord would open the eyes of Mr. Robertson's heart.

While there's life, there's hope!

Called to Care

I have come to the freeing realization that I can not cause anyone to care about anything.
I can use persuasive words, impassioned pleas, heart-wrenching photos - I can even set those photos to touching music in a slide show - but I can not reach into anyone's chest, squeeze his heart, and make him care about the things I care about.

Nor should I.

This seems the most obvious string of sentences on the planet and yet, as we prepare to launch our family onto the mission field, it only just occurred to me. I am freed by such a notion.

It is not my job to endear Believers to our cause. That is solely the work of the Holy Spirit!


YES!!!!

As our web site is having it's final face lift and we prepare to unveil the full scope of our mission in The Philippines, it is with a great burden lifted that the failure or success of our mission does not depend on ME choosing the right configuration of words and photographs, designed to make my friends and total strangers give of their money or come serve along with us, that we move forward.

Just like the rest of this gig, it's NOT ABOUT ME!

I am faced, daily, with photographs on my facebook news feed of beautiful orphans who need families. I am moved by the needs of the poor as their stories come to me through various blogs. I was recently undone by a youtube video called "Cry Freetown" in which a journalist embedded with the RUF captures executions of innocent Sierra Leonians, even children, with his lens (warning:that video is NOT for the faint of heart and certainly not for children - if you view it, do so with this in mind).
The scope of these needs and the suffering around the world can make one little Believer feel completely inadequate.
Which cause to choose? Which is nearest and dearest to our hearts? To His?

It can make us throw up our hands and say "I will never make much of a difference" and bury our heads in the sands of work, shopping, child rearing and entertainment.

And so it goes . . .

But the Lord has called His Church, His beautiful bride to extend her hand to orphans, widows, the poor, the oppressed, the lost and the wounded.

She needs to walk in this calling to be whole. The same way a bird needs to fly or an itch needs to be scratched. The church of Jesus is called to care. Not because God is unable to assuage suffering without us, but because He has prepared "good work" for us to do before He created the world (Eph. 2:10).

Caring for others fulfills our purpose and makes the name of our Savior great.

What Believer doesn't want an abundant life and to know he made a mark for Jesus during this short stint on Earth?

And because I know these things: that the church is called to care, that Believers innately want to make a mark for Christ, that the Holy Spirit prompts us to give and serve, that there are enough "causes" out there for every Believer to join and support, that we are leaning in closely to hear what He has for us to do, I can rest.

I can't make you care enough to support us on the mission field. I don't have the power to draw anyone to pack a suitcase and fly half way around the world to touch a child otherwise rejected.

But Jesus does.

And when He moves you, I pray you will act swiftly - no delays - so you can reap the benefits of walking in obedience.

I pray we do the same.

We are called to care. I am. You are.

And THAT'S really living!

Jealousy

From time to time, people we meet who learn of our family composition will share sweet words about their feelings for what we're doing. It's hard to know how to take compliments and I often just deflect them by saying how thankful we are that God has called us to adoption. It's true. We are.

The comment that makes me smile most is "you sure are a giving person".

"No, not really", I think.

It's a sweet sentiment but our pursuit of adoption was 90% selfish and 10% altruistic for me. But it was also 100% obedience to what we know Jesus has asked.

I am a greedy, jealous Mama. I love to be adored by my kids. I am greedy for their affection. I have to be #1 in their hearts (besides Jesus) and I am the LAST person who is looking for a mentor, "big brother/sister" or stand in Grandma for my kids. Sure, it's great if they forge a friendship with their youth leaders or think their friends' parents are "cool" but the buck stops there.

These kids are ALL MINE (well, and their Dad's but still . . .).

I think I am the mother version of a possessive girlfriend - a little stalkerish but for reasons I feel are justified. These kids are funny, smart and beautiful. Certainly someone out there must be out to steal their hearts from me . . . right?

I don't know why I am like this or where this ferocity comes from but it has NOT diminished as my children grow older. It might be a little worse. I see members of the opposite gender being flirty with my older kids or eyeballing them in public and while I'm sure this behavior is perfectly normal, it makes me want to yank the "starer" up by the shirt collar and say "may I help you?" about two inches from his/her face (and I won't have an altoid, either)!

I know these kids will marry someday and I may not be invited on the honeymoon. I'll have to cross that bridge when I come to it.

But for now, I'm just going to revel in having all of these terrific people under my roof where we can have lots of dinners together, play cards, watch movies, travel and enjoy each other for a little longer.

I love the time spent with my prodigy. There has been hard work invested in their characters and training and as they get older, we see the hard work coming to fruition. They are amazing! Despite our missteps and the things we could have done better, they are superb individuals! That's Jesus . . .Faithful God going before us.

I am not giving. I'm greedy.

But isn't HE jealous for us? Doesn't HE look at our hearts and say "back away, you idols, that's MY daughter and her heart belongs to ME"?

In Exodus 20:5, God tells the Israelites:
"You shall not bow down to idols or serve them for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God . . ."

In Ezekiel 5 (a harsh chapter, I must say) God again tells His people that He is jealous for their affections.

I know my "jealousy" for the hearts of my children is not the perfect, sinless jealousy that God feels for us. The parallel falls short where my sinful nature starts - immediately.

But when I think of the shoddy, imperfect love I have for these kids HE has entrusted to me, I am humbled that His perfect, never-giving-up, always-forgiving, heart-pursuing love is so much more.

And He has the rights. He paid a high price for me. He owns me. I am His.

Let me never follow after lesser things, Father.

Thank You for being so jealous. You confound me, Father . . .

A Simpler Walk

I'm finding myself in a strange and precarious place spiritually as of late.
The more I read God's word and spend time with Him in prayer, the less I find I can tolerate some of the mandates of other Believers.

This notion has been dogging me for more than a year but has intensified in the last three or four months.
Those of you who are immersed in the Christian culture know it is just that - a culture. There is often a set of rules, a dress code, a vocabulary list and a standard of behavior NOT COMMANDED IN SCRIPTURE that prevails. This culture is most obvious in the homeschooling community for me.

I must state, for the record, my church family does not seem saturated in the culture to which I am referring. It is much more open, accepting and eclectic than one would expect. And we are conservative. There is something special going on at my church. For that, I am grateful.

But the culture that SOME of my fellow homeschoolers embrace has become repugnant to me. I can not abide one more conversation about the evils of Twilight, The Hunger Games, the fashions on the racks at Khol's or the suggestive dance moves of Justin Bieber! Pokemon, Harry Potter, Facebook, secular music, skinny jeans, guns in video games, tattoos, piercings . . . these are the plumb lines many of us are using to measure one another and it is suffocating me!

Work these things out in your own families, folks! Prayerfully decide where the lines should fall and walk in them. Offer your opinions when other Believers ASK FOR THEM. Do not waste precious time making the fight against Spongebob Squarepants your life's work, I beg of you.

You make a caricature of yourself before those who don't know our Savior.
Fodder for mockery among the lost, but not persecuted for righteousness' sake. Let us not confuse the two.

I am not suggesting that Christian families should throw open their doors and embrace every aspect of our current American culture. Lots of it is garbage, counterproductive, injurious to the spirit and wasteful of time. Plenty of what I have mentioned above is not allowed in my own home. But that is OUR home and yours may look very different from ours. And guess what? God's word allows for that! We should all work out our own salvation with fear and trembling (Phil. 2:12).

I Corinthians 8 talks about Believers eating food sacrificed to idols. Paul is clear that Believers are welcomed to eat it but he admonishes the early Christians in verses 9 and 10 with:
"Be careful, however, that the exercise of your rights does not become a stumbling block to the weak. For if someone with a weak conscience sees you, with all your knowledge, eating in an idol's temple, won't that person be emboldened to eat what is sacrificed to idols?"

Shouldn't that be our main concern as we fellowship, Believer to Believer? Paul is not talking about a Christian causing a non-Christian to stumble but a more knowledgeable Believer making a weaker Believer revert to idolatry and damaging his relationship with the One, True, God.

So we don't flaunt our family boundaries before other Believers but neither do we set before them a form of righteousness that is not of God and expect them to partake simply because we have more knowledge.

We live our lives under the convictions that God has placed on our hearts, trying to please Him both in our freedom and our choices . . . and we keep Him and HIS word the focus.

Everything else is dross . . . chaff . . . shavings on the wind . . . a ploy of the Enemy to divert us from the Cross and the height from which we have fallen.

And when we remember that HE picked us up from the pit of miry clay and set our feet upon the rock when we were but filthy, helpless, rotten, rebellious, unfaithful people, suddenly it doesn't much matter whether you have cable TV or make your own bread from wheat berries.

It just doesn't matter. In eternity. For the big picture.

It's just between Him and You...and He lavishes grace upon grace, lovingly guides and forgives without limit.

Rest in that, my friends.

Just rest.

Touches

It's been almost a month since I posted "Fit for Service" and I want to be faithfully accountable so, here it goes . . .

I have exercised three to five days a week WITHOUT FAIL since that post! I have a way to go before I can officially say I feel "fit" but some wonderful side effects have surfaced from just a month of consistent, challenging exercise.
The most notable are:
1. I have a TON more energy
2. I am sleeping so much better - all night every night
3. I am firmer everywhere (and I mean . . . everywhere . . . hee hee)
4. I am much more relaxed, even keeled, slower to feel annoyed, etc.
5. This could just be over analysis on my part but it does seem I have a broader
vocabulary and less trouble retrieving information than before I started exercising!

I can't say that in one month's time I've conquered my issues with staying consistent but I can say I really DO enjoy the after effects of exercise and I want to continue . . . Faithful God has given me some drive in answer to prayer!

Thank you to my sweet neighbor and friend for meeting me at the crack of daylight to exercise! Just knowing you will be waiting nudges me out of my warm, comfy bed!

I began by doing the "Couch To 5 K" app five days a week but at the end of week two, I broke my baby toe on the side of my bed . . . it was sticking out from the pack, swollen and purple. It still hurts. I continued to exercise but have had to tone the running parts of the app down to walking. I do three days a week of the 30 minute walk/run and two days a week of pilates with a DVD. This is a relatively small time commitment but so very worth it! On a side note, I really don't love pilates. By "don't love", I mean "hate" . . . but the sore muscles the next day tell me my abs need me to keep doing it. I do NOT have the fluid movements of the ladies on the video. I know I look like a turtle on my back and not the graceful swan that the other ladies portray!

Now, on to the Mission Field update . . . there isn't much going on in that arena. Our sending organization is still getting the administrative/logistical aspects of our project in order and since we aren't on the board or involved in the correspondence, it appears to us that little is happening in terms of forward motion. I'm sure that isn't the case but we are simply out of the loop. We step back and let the board members do what God has called them to do and we wait. There is a large scale fund raiser planned for September in Pennsylvania and I will share more details there as they solidify. We do firmly believe the Lord will do this work. We have no doubt He will place us in The Philippines in HIS time and in HIS way. . . our task right now is to watch and pray.

We are registered to take a volunteer training class at Governor Morehead's School for the Blind in September. That class will allow us (Anthony, Aaron and I) to work in the classrooms directly with visually impaired children and their teachers! This is priceless, hands-on, first-line training and I am eager for it to begin.

All continues to go well with our children, our church, our preparations to begin another year of homeschooling, etc.

Just wanted to update my precious readers and thank you so much for the prayerful support. It is of such value that I have no adequate words - even with my bolstered intellect and vocabulary (ha ha) . . .

FOR HIS GREAT FAME,
Nikki

ONE YEAR

Today, July 7th, 2012 marks one year since I waited nervously on the jetway.
One year since 30 of our friends and family members gathered in anticipation.
One year since I had to learn to answer "six" when asked how many children I have.

Our precious Francis has been home ONE YEAR today!

When I remember the early weeks of his homecoming, it is with fondness and maybe a little shudder of gratefulness that we are HERE instead of THERE.

I recall those early weeks where I was his complete link to the USA. Every task I set out to do, no matter how mundane, he wanted to be a part of. From making a bank deposit to getting groceries, Francis was always by my side asking questions. He wanted to know how everything worked here. He was absorbing life in the US at warp speed.

He wanted to know how much everything cost and then would quickly produce his calculator to convert that number to Philippine Pesos . . . and then he would gasp at the sheer expense of everything from a value meal to a pair of shoes.

He took perfect care of all of his belongings and was quick to help around the house with any chore anyone was doing.

And then he started to work for his dad and earn his own money . . . and NEVER spent a dime! He hid it in his room (although I always knew just where) and counted it again and again, converting it to pesos and remarking how shocked his friends back home would be at his "stash". We stayed up late watching action movies together after everyone else went to bed. I watched a lot of shooting and explosions...I was happy to.

He facebooked The Philippines for hours each day. He ached for those friends and caregivers in a way that was so hard to watch and, although a necessary part of starting a new life, something I wanted to ease and could not.

But time went on.

He began to say "no thanks" when I offered to take him with me to the store or the post office. He began to spend a little money on going to the movies with siblings. He joined his basketball team and found confidence in his English speaking and social skills. He started to get invited over to friend's houses.

He made a lot of baskets at his games and won the respect of the other players.

His comfort level in every situation multiplied and you could visibly see him being grafted into this life and this family.

And it's been a pleasure to watch and a gift.

He is ours and we are his. A little more each day. Just when I think we've reached total immersion, we get closer. The good and the bad experiences are the glue. We welcome both. But the good outnumber the bad at least 100 to 1.

God has done us a great kindness in making Francis our son.
Right on time.

Happy ONE YEAR HOME, precious boy . . . you are a jewel in our crown.

FIT For Service

This is possibly going to be one of the most self-indulgent posts I've ever written.

I hope you'll hang with me and see the heart from which it springs.

I am out of shape. Physically. A mess. Jiggly and weak. Easily tired and a snacker to the Nth degree.

Something's gotta give.

With our family poised and ready to take on the mission field, I fear I will be the weak link when it comes to being able to fully serve the Lord and carry out our mission in The Philippines.

No, I'm not an obese person. I would like my jeans to fit more loosely and the washboard abs of my college days to resurface and I realize nobody at Wal Mart is going to look at me and say "now THERE'S a fat girl". But I have very little stamina for physical activity and minimal tolerance for yard work, grocery carrying and stair climbing. That HAS to change.

So I write this post as a plea to my bloggy world readers to pray for my sticktoitveness as I begin my plan for getting into better physical condition.

Today, I dowloaded the app "Couch to 5 K" onto my iphone, laced up my sparkly white neglected New Balance and hit the pavement. It is a 30 minute workout consisting of a 5 minute warm up, intervals of walking and running (wherein the 60 seconds of running felt like a year and the 90 seconds of walking evaporated at warp speed) and a 5 minute cool down walk at the end. AAAANNND . . . I DID IT!! It felt SO good dragging my behind up my steep driveway, jello legs wobbling at the end of this work out and knowing that I took the first step on a journey to better health.

I just want to honor God with this body and so I MUST follow through. Please pray that I will follow through. I am famous for great beginnings and fast burn out. Renown, in fact.

I have three partial sewing projects, one unfinished assignment for our Hadley School for the Blind training and four partially-read books on my nightstand to remind me that I struggle with finishing well.

I figured putting this out there in cyber world might hold me accountable. But if you check in with me a month from now, ask how the exercise is going and I get defensive, please show me some grace - ha ha . . .

Okay, I'm off to the Farmer's Market for some good eats.

Striking While the Iron Is Hot,
Nikki