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

It Was The Best Daaayyy Everrrrrr (Best Day Everrrr)

Two "cool points" for anyone reading who recognized the title of this blog post as being from an episode of Spongebob Squarepants! TEN cool points for those who have never seen Spongebob and have no idea where that song comes from . . . ha ha . . .

Yesterday was possibly one of the best family days we have had in a long time. I am excluding the day my children were born, came home and/or committed their lives to Christ in my ranking of days but it was a great day nonetheless!

It was Saturday, a notoriously busy day for our family. We have a child who works, one who is acting in a movie being filmed by a Christian production company, two who play various sports and two who get invited to birthday parties (the "little kid" kind where 26 kids meet up at Chuck E. Cheese and take turns disappearing and being found again) but yesterday, nobody had a blessed thing on the calendar!

We decided, of course, to call a family work day (groan, eye roll, sigh). Much to our surprise, this work day decree was met with positive responses ranging from acquiescing to downright excitement at the mention of washing cars and trimming hedges!
Here are a few pics I snapped from the goings on:
Dad at the Weed Whacker


Oldest Son at the Hedge Clippers


Favorite Daughter Cleans the Kitchen (blurry pic - Mom's lack of skill)


Lem, Kyle and Zeke the Naked Wash the Van


If you squint and tilt your head, you'll see Francis on the mower


And ME on the ipad taking pictures and supervising . . . hey! someone has to keep these slackers in line!!!


As the work was winding up, Lem remembered a big, fat $20 gift card he received as a "thank you" for coaching soccer and he asked me out to dinner at Pei Wei (oh, yum . . . one of my favorite places . . . stir fried steak and fried rice!!!). I was touched that he asked just me and so, of course, we went. I got to drive hubby's cute little car instead of that honkin' large van so that made it extra sweet.

And Lem was such a gentleman. He opened doors. He let me choose the seat. He kept asking if I wanted anything else. The conversation was basic "kid stuff" (his school friends, sports, video games) but I just ate it up! It was all I could do to swallow that delicious food for the lump in my throat. THIS was the kind of interaction with him that was just a dream a year ago. I imagined him as thoughtful. I prayed he would be even a little interested in the welfare of others. I hoped for it but now it was HERE . . .

And this blog always seems to go back to Lemuel. Maybe I need to rename it.
But he has been our biggest challenge and is becoming our greatest triumph as we lean on Jesus to walk us through a brand of parenting completely unfamiliar to me.
For him, I have become a big "softie".

All that hard line, butt kicking, no excuses, no second chances type of parenting that is so popular among families without wounded children backfired miserably in this house.

What works? You might wonder. What works is PRAYER, total surrender to the plans of God whether you like them or not. What works is forgiving 70 x 7 and keeping the faith. Believing your child was created to be MORE than a "RADish". Knowing that he was entrusted to you and you don't have to have all the answers but you do have to stop doing what isn't working and try something new. Maturity works. Letting that child grow up slowly - as slowly as it takes. Not saying things like "you're twelve, you have no reason to be afraid of the dark." Because maybe he does. What the heck do YOU know? You weren't there from day one. What works is drawing a wounded child in CLOSER instead of pushing him away farther - which is what feels comfortable, natural and what we did too many times. What works is getting your head out of your own . . . um . . . "space" and realizing that how you FEEL as a parent needs to sit on the back burner. Yes, you're tired. Yes, you're emotionally exhausted. Yes, you would like to hide in the cargo hold of a 747 and end up in Aruba but so what??? I repeat . . . IT IS NOT ABOUT YOU. Not totally anyway.
You're a casualty of his pain. Fallout. Not the main event.

There's no pill. There's no treatment center. There's no book. There's no attachment therapist. There's no ONE magic bullet to "cure" RAD. That's the conclusion I've come to in my limited experience with one wounded boy.
There's prayer. There's never giving up. There's forgiving. There's "I love you even if you don't love me." There's "I wish I had been there to catch you the day you popped out of your birthmom and to shield you from the hurt. But I wasn't and we have to deal with what IS."

I wish there were more. But sometimes, I'm glad there wasn't. I would have taken the easy way a thousand times and missed the depth of this son of mine. If his heart came to me easily, maybe I would have appreciated it less? Leaned on Jesus less? Been more prideful as a parent? Only the Lord knows.

And He is good. Yes, altogether loving. The perfect parent and only wise God.

And He knows best . . .

Attachment Revisited

It has been many months since I began to suspect the Lord was healing our sweet Lemuel of his symptoms of Reactive Attachment Disorder. It was with great reservation that I blogged about my suspicions of lasting healing because ....well...because I doubted. And because I have, at one time or another in my life, been convinced of something I felt the Lord was doing only to be mistaken.
I didn't want to make a fool of myself.

I no longer doubt this healing. I am not mistaken.

I see, in Lemuel, such a sweet portrait of redemption, healing, of the tender love of our Heavenly Father that I can not deny that our boy has been made whole!

Sometimes, in my mind's eye, I notice myself short changing this gift of healing.
I say to myself
"He probably only had a mild case of RAD. It may have been coincidental that he fit the profile so well."
or
"I don't want to give other parents false hope. God doesn't always choose to heal. Maybe I should keep this quiet."
or
"Maybe RAD really isn't real or is so over diagnosed that I simply saw a slow bonding process instead of a miracle."

But the Mother's heart in me wants to shout from the mountaintops that my son is a caring, loving, TRUSTING young man who is a positive part of this family and a joy to parent.

And he is!!

He still struggles with logic skills. He still needs resource class for math and will probably always have an Individualized Education Plan at school.
But he loves me. He says it now with absolute certainty and no ulterior motive.
He catches me alone in the kitchen every now and then and says "I'm so glad you adopted me and you never gave up."
And I believe him.
And I say "me,too." And I mean it.

He went with his youth group to volunteer at the Special Olympics on Saturday. Upon his return, I received such wonderful reports from the leadership (who also received stellar comments from the volunteer organizers) about Lemuel's care of the special needs adults he was charged with that I could not help but brag about him just a little. This is a child I literally did not trust to walk the dog just a year ago! He is now completely trustworthy in every aspect.
He has internalized the notion that even if nobody is watching, his Heavenly Father sees his actions.
He understands a little better the scripture about putting others before ourselves.
He lives them out.
Sure, he messes up from time to time but in a NORMAL way, with TRUTHFUL admission of guilt and HUMBLE receiving of consequences!
This is more than I would have hoped for a year ago. More than I thought possible.

I was exhausted and sadly resigned to parenting him the best we could until he was old enough to either join the military or become incarcerated. I figured the latter would eliminate the former.

Lord, help my unbelief!

I now see the fingerprints of God on this child in a way that was not evident when we were in the throes of the chaos. I see the sculpting and refining the Father is doing and, as the excess falls away, something so beautiful emerges.

Worth the pain. Worth the wait. More than we asked or imagined. That's our theme.

Porch Talk

I love summer time in North Carolina (well, it's summer enough with temperatures in the upper 80's and humidity making it's presence known even in the early morning).

Almost every morning, hubby and I awaken before any of the children. We get our cups of coffee and sit on the front porch to read our Bibles and talk a bit.

Those talks inevitably meander toward The Philippines.
We breathe in the scent of our blooming Magnolia tree and say "we're going to miss this smell".

We wave at the man who, in his 80s, never misses a day walking or bike riding past our house on the quiet cul-de-sac. We met him when our large rottweiler/lab mix broke free and went after him one day. She doesn't bite but he didn't know that.
"I'm going to miss seeing that old man" I sigh. "I hope whoever buys this house appreciates the front porch."

But I can't muster any real sadness.

We're going on the adventure of a lifetime. Our children will be by our sides. We go to a place we've been before and we know we love.

We understand there will be hard times, heartache and struggles.
We have those here, too. It's life and we're just people.

Today's porch talk included our little Ezekiel (who still sleeps in our room, much to the chagrin of perfect parents and baby whisperers) so he sits with his mango-peach juice box while we drink coffee and he reminds us, just by his presence, that God gives us good gifts in the most unexpected packages.

Ezekiel reminds us that taking a big scary leap of faith can result in unsurpassed joy. He is a walking illustration that what some call "burden", others call "blessing" and we relax.

We relax because our Heavenly Father has all things under His control. The same God who pricked our hearts to adopt a child with Down Syndrome and healed another child of Reactive Attachment Disorder is the very same one who is calling us away from this front porch and to the other side of the world.

HIM, we can trust. Oh, what we would have missed if we hadn't trusted!

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your paths straight".
Proverbs 3:5-6

The view from our front porch . . .

Brass Tacks and Piles of Laundry

From time to time, I get notes from moms asking questions about "daily operations" in a family like ours. I have many friends with larger families than mine. Many friends who run their homes like well-oiled machines. I have learned a lot from these ladies.

Mostly I have learned that they hatched from pods dropped from another planet! A planet I am not familiar with. A place that mocks people with my organizational
challenges and steals my DNA to figure out what went awry.

But I picked up a few "tricks" along the way that I wanted to share with those of you who, like me, have fantasized about having a housekeeper, a cook and some sister wives to share my load . . . unattractive, celebate sister wives, of course!

Keep in mind that my family consists of two parents, FOUR teenagers, a ten year old and our little angel baby who has Down Syndrome. We have some unique blessings and challenges that might make some of what I'm sharing not so do-able in your house.

First, LAUNDRY:
Used towels have been the bane of my existence for several years. Kids forget which towel was "theirs". Teens find it gross to use the towel that someone else has used to dry his "nether regions". Towels stacked atop one another on our measly towel bar start to get gamey in just one day.
For awhile I was washing a load of towels EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
And then the most obvious remedy jumped from the J hook at Wal Mart and into my cart.
OVER THE DOOR TOWEL HOOKS!!!! I love these things! I want to find the inventor and bake him a cake. With sprinkles.
Each bedroom door in our home is now graced by a towel hook. If there are three children in a room, there are three hooks. YOUR towel stays YOUR towel and is washed with your clothes on laundry day.
This plain-as-the-nose-on-your-face solution has revolutionized my life!
There you have it...

Second, HOMESCHOOLING
Books, papers, pencils, the protractor, the compass, CD ROMS and journals littered my shelves and tables. I tried assigning children a spot on the school shelf that would be their own. But notebooks slid, papers hung loose, pencils and pens rolled. I had to come up with a system to organize school items that was accessible to me for nightly grading and work assigning. For us, the crate system was a gift from above.
Each child has his/her own crate with a name sticker. That crate contains everything needed for school. On top of each stack of books in each crate is a post it note with my instructions. This method works perfectly for older children who do much of their work independently but it also serves to make our not-so-independent learner feel like a "big kid". His Explode the Code and math worksheet along with a box of crayons and pencils are in his crate and ready for daily use.

Some other tips that make our days run a little more smoothly and take some of the load off mom are:

Each child has a water bottle in the fridge with his name on it. This reduces the constant use of a new cup every time someone is thirsty.

I empty the dishwasher every morning and every able-bodied child has to rinse his dishes and put them in the dishwasher immediately after use. No dishes pile up in the sink.....Nirvana!

As much as my "green" friends might cringe, we use a lot of paper plates during the day... but we also double up little kids for baths so maybe that balances out our wastefulness with our eco-friendliness . . . no?

I have much to learn in terms of running this household efficiently but the items above have pulled me closer to that goal with a minimal amount of cost and effort.
These tricks have freed up some valuable time that I used to spend washing towles or chasing down math folders.

Now the big challenge is to USE that "found time" doing things that are worthwhile and not squander it with lazy or selfish pursuits.

And THAT'S another blog post altogether . . .

I Want More!

I want more children. I don't think it's a secret.

I have six. And they are marvelous. Beautiful. Exceptional human beings for whom my public adoration has probably caused some measure of embarrassment. I don't care and I can't help myself.

But I want more children.

I pray that if my big kids are reading this, they don't for a moment think they are not enough. They are more than enough. Too much. I am ecstatic with my love for them and they are the reason I want to mother more children. They have made it such a joy and worthwhile challenge. It's all THEIR faults that I want more . . . . ha ha

But God divinely closed the "factory" years ago and chose not to reopen it despite our efforts to surgically accomplish this...
And I believe we are probably done adopting internationally.

So what's a mother to do?
How do I fulfill this God-given longing for more children in light of all that is happening in our family?

I go to my children rather than bringing them to me.

As we pray about and prepare for the mission field, the prospect of mothering countless additional children draws me like a moth to a flame!

The notion that I might just get to wrap my arms around a hurting child, kiss his wounds, tuck him in and cheer for his victories is almost enough to make me start packing now.

But this new opportunity to mother comes with a vicious twist.
These will not be my forever children. Just my "for a little whiles".
And I don't know how to do that yet.
How to pour heart and soul into a child and give him over to a new family.
Or back to an old one.

But I trust that He Who Calls is also He Who Equips and through Him, I can do all things.
That's what Philippians 4:13 says and I trust that word with my very life.

So as we set out to take our "forevers" to meet our "little whiles", it is with humble gratitude I say to my Heavenly Father THANK YOU for putting this crazy mothering fire in me. And thank you that it is not a hope deferred, making the heart sick.

Father, help me to learn to love the "Little Whiles"...
And to learn to give them back when it's time.

A Slice of Life

I seriously need to update the pics on the sidebar. I was noticing that yesterday.
I'll get to it. It's on "THE LIST" . . .but for now, let me share some brand new pics of these gorgeous, funny, awesome people (and pets) God has given me:

We call these pics "Ghetto Wolf Lodge" . . . who needs 30 foot waterslides when you have a large tarp, a hose and some suave shampoo???

Our beautiful daughter!

Lem's 14th Birthday! That sweet kid let little brother blow out his candles!!!

Oldest son, his good friend/prom date (for the second year in a row) and our lovely daughter . . . aaaah to be young and carefree again . . .

The Big Giveaway

From Luke Chapter 9
23 And Jesus said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. 24 For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. 25 For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?"

I was purposefully misleading in titling this post. Many bloggers hold "giveaways" on their blogs. I've never hosted a giveaway. I'm not entirely sure of their purpose but I'm sure I'll give it a try at some point. It might be fun.

The scripture above is one that I heard many sermons on throughout my life as a Believer. I often wrestled with understanding this passage, and specifically verse 24. It says "whoever would save his life will lose it but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it".

Weird, huh?

I always interpreted this scripture as saying "if anyone loves his life and tries to preserve it, God will kill him off early but whoever doesn't care about living a long life will get one". Ahhhhh . . . the doctrinal musings of a child . . .

I was completely off base in my interpretation and it was not until adulthood that I really understood, with some clarity, the purpose of this passage.

Jesus is telling us to give our lives away for the sake of His kingdom. He is telling us not to love life so much as to be attached to this world and unwilling to walk away from the things therein if He should request it. In light of our family's aim toward moving to The Philippines for ministry, this passage has taken on new vibrancy for me.

Not only am I not afraid of "losing my life" . . . I am aching to give it away! I'm literally burning inside to shake off the possessions, the comforts, the familiar, the safeguards, the predictability and the prosperity for a new thing.

Maybe that's how we know we are truly called and not just hopeful for an adventure. The fear has given way to another tide.

I am no longer afraid for my children and their safety. Nor for my own physical health.

It is slightly less hurtful to think about the family and friends that we will say "goodbye" to. Less but still present.

I am pained when I realize it may take months (or a year) for us to be boarding the plane. I wish it were sooner... And I hate to fly.

The best part of trying to give this life away is that I know even the very desire to do just that is from the Lord. It has nothing to do with our goodness as people, our clean living or Bible knowledge. It is just HIM, doing what He does best - using the weak, paltry, handicapped redeemed to do His work.

THIS is how onlookers will know any good thing that comes from our ministry is God and not people. "We are weak but He is strong" just like the song "Jesus Loves Me" conveys.

I know it will be hard and I idealize the "big giveaway" because I am writing about it from the starting line. I sit in my lovely air conditioned home, with a glass of sweet tea and a belly full of lunch, with my children all nearby and a spirit bolstered by a challenging sermon at Potter's Hand Bible Church this morning.

I am not sick. I am not sweltering. I have not been robbed recently or had to pray for funding to come in so we could eat, travel, serve or pay rent. I have not been double crossed by those who promised to help us nor have I been the subject of disparaging talk in places we had hoped to make inroads.

Those things are coming. You know how I know?

1 Peter 5:8
Be sober, be watchful. Your adversary, the devil, prowls around seeking someone to devour.

THAT'S how I know.

Have you experienced The Big Giveaway in your own life? Was it through adoption? Missions? Opening your home to the needy? Supporting a ministry in a sacrificial way? Laying your life on the altar and truly, genuinely not caring much about the outcome as long as the will of God is the chief end?

I would love to hear from you! Private email. A phone call if we know each other in "real life". A comment on the blog or facebook if you're willing.

I am longing to hear from fellow Believers who took a leap with reckless abandon and landed where they knew God was pointing. Were the bitter parts REALLY made sweet along the way? It's rumored they are.

The Body of Christ . . . no place I'd rather be!

The people of God . . . my inspiration!

Movin' On Up

Since the "big announcement" of mid April -the fact that our family is posed to hit the mission field in the next six to eight months- so very much has happened. Our excitement has met with mixed reviews. Most of them positive and encouraging. Many of them laced with cautionary tales of forgotten friends who struck out for the mission field only to meet with crippling illness, dangerous criminals or larger-than-life insects! We have had friends who want to partner with us financially (we're not there YET but we'll hit you up when the time comes - ha ha) and have offered to start saving items we can take with us to share with those we will meet along the way. God's people never cease to amaze me with their first-blush reactions to news such as ours. It's no secret we have a large family. Some of our family members have ongoing needs that are well-met here in the States. We have much to weigh and balance. This decision was not made lightly as "impulsive" or "spontaneous" are not adjectives anyone would readily apply to me. Yes, The Philippines has large bugs, diseases that no longer exist in the US, plenty of crime and no Wal Mart! But far outweighing those little annoyances are the beautiful people, the children who need the loving arms of parents around them, the beauty of the landscape, the openness of the culture, and the unreached population we hope to extend a hand to. . . more about them later in the post! In just a couple of days, I am scheduled to speak on the topic of Special Needs Adoption at the Together For Adoption conference in Winston-Salem. I was asked to do this long before the chance at the mission field cropped up. I am awed at how well these two paths converge! The group our family will serve, if God allows us to transplant, is the visually impaired orphan! I expect, as has been the case in every "good thing" we have set out to accomplish, we will end up receiving the blessing much more than those we aim to serve. God has used hearing impairment, Reactive Attachment Disorder, Down Syndrome and advanced age at the time of placement to remind us that we can not do any seemingly selfless deed without being swept away in a tide of His blessings. In light of what we have experienced, we go overseas a little selfishly. We know the blessing the Lord lavishes on us when we try to serve Him. It's a "secret" the apostle Paul discussed so many times in His letters to fellow Believers.

"What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ" Phil. 3:8

Galatians 6:9 And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.

Ephesians 2:10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.


It's seems so close at times, I wake up in the morning and feel like I am THERE instead of HERE. Other times, I look around at all the "stuff" we have to sell, pack, get rid of, do, change, cancel, paint, repair and consider before we can be free of this life and I get weary. God is going to have to do so much in preparation for our family to go and yet, it seems He has already begun, starting with the positive reaction from ALL of our children to the announcement! That was not something we expected and clearly falls under the "more than we ask or imagine" category!! Certain children of ours tend to lean toward the melodramatic and can, at times, be just a teeny tad smidge self-focused. Well, shut my mouth . . . everyone is on board!!!!!!


I close this little jaunt down the bunny trail with a special "PRAY FOR US" as the time clock tics, so many pieces of the puzzle must fall into place and only The Great Commissioner can bring the longings of our heart to a full-fledged, sustainable missionary life. More than we ask or imagine . . .

Two Lives

I'm pretty sure I have lived two lives.
No, this is NOT a post about reincarnation, don't worry!
I am barely over the big 4-0 and yet I am quite sure I have lived two totally separate lives.

In my "first life", I had a husband, two beautiful children (one boy and one girl), a big house, a new car, plenty of debt and quite the impressive exterior. I knew Jesus. I really did. There is no doubt about that. But I shopped a lot. On credit.
I homeschooled and never missed a field trip. I was a leader in our large homeschool support group and church circle. I thought I knew more than I really did. I liked to argue doctrine with those who were charismatic, non-reformed, liberal or just off base altogether. I wanted to serve God and at times I did. But that service was limited to what I felt I could control. My husband and I were orchestrating the American dream, a safe comfortable life with a predictable rhythm in which the biggest irritations were things like the dog vomiting on the carpet or running out of coffee. They felt so big. Then.

In life number two, things are so different I hardly recognize the first "me". Yes, I still have the same husband but now we have six children. We live in a small house, our cars are older and there is no debt anymore. I don't know nearly as much as I used to about matters of doctrine and I don't care to argue them anymore anyway. I am no longer in favor of the death penalty and I understand that Jesus did not appoint me to single-handedly change the doctrinal stances of fellow Believers. I know about the poor now. I know they are real and they aren't poor because they are lazy. Not all of them. I know that I was created for so much more than living life #1. I have learned that there is nothing that matters, that has eternal value, apart from investing in other people. I found out that people in need don't want to hear the gospel on an empty stomach, fatherless, in physical pain and that God has equipped my family to help remedy some of these circumstances for just a few people. A few is good. I am learning to be content and to count my blessings. I have almost completely stopped looking at what other people have and wishing it belonged to me. I just want God to use my short little life, that has taken such a long time to resemble Him even a little, and make it count for His kingdom.

Please know I do not believe I have "arrived" or culminated in some swath of Christ Likeness that makes me better than another Believer. I haven't and I'm not. But I am so desperately in love with life #2 that I can not fathom how I tolerated life #1 for as long as I did. I love that Jesus opened my eyes to the poor. I love that He put a longing in my heart to break out of the old life and step onto the balance beam that #2 is proving to be. I adore the husband He has given me who is leading the charge to be "RADICAL" for the sake of the lost and the poor.

I love that our family is open to selling everything we can't fit into a suitcase and returning to the country of our hearts.

I stand amazed that the opportunity to do just that is before us.

The Lord will have to move mountains but He has moved them right before my eyes, just as an act of love and faith building.

We stand on the precipice of life #3. A life on the mission field. A new start right smack in the middle of our lives. With kids. All of them. We stick together. I need each one of them. They need us, too.

I don't want to be cryptic any longer but I have said all that is allowed until a few more details mesh together.

I covet your prayers. They sustain us now just like they did through four adoptions, our journey with reactive attachment disorder and all the other refining tools the Lord has used to whittle us down. And He is still whittling. We have come so far and yet have so far to go.

If you are willing to hang with us, I believe this blog is going to take a very distinct turn.... To the East....Asia-ish...

We are humbled. Again.

"Good" Friday : What Are We To Do?

But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5

saying, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” Luke 22:42


I've always found the notion of the day the Savior of the World was brutally executed being called "GOOD" Friday a little confusing. Sure, the outcome for mankind was very good, perfect in fact. Yes, the obedience Jesus modeled was nothing short of miraculous. But the pain, the suffering, the having your father turn away from you, the lonely walk down the Via Dolorosa, the knowledge that your father did NOT take the cup from you but is allowing everything to go on as prophesied, it must have felt many things other than "good" to the man part of our Messiah.

I think we tend to assume Jesus had an unusually high pain tolerance. Some scholars have theorized that the whippings alone would have killed any normal mortal and the fact that Jesus made it ALL THE WAY to Calvary is evidence of this fact. I don't know. God's word doesn't say and where it doesn't say, I hesitate to guess. I'm afraid others assume that Jesus somehow ENJOYED the pain and process of His death because He knew it would atone for the sins of mankind. Again, the Bible does not speak to any "enjoyment", only ultimate obedience, acquiescence, surrender to that which you would prefer to be taken away, far away, from you.
We forget that when Jesus took on flesh just like ours, that flesh was full of pulsing arteries, nerve endings, a spinal cord that transmits messages of pain just like yours and mine. Every whip, every step, every pulled out hair and every bitter insult were FELT, just as any human body "feels".

Please don't misinterpret this post as an emotional anthropomorphic word fest.
I would never WANT to make God like me in any way. He made that choice when he wrapped Himself in flesh and agreed to submit Himself to the human experience.

Why? Was it "all for me" as some songs so wrenchingly communicate? My reformed tendencies make me shun such a notion as man-centered and somehow off base.
But the book of Isaiah clearly says that "He was pierced for our transgression, crushed for our sins . . ." Yes, it was for me. My own personal discomfort with this idea is utterly irrelevant here.

So, what should our response be to so sacred a knowledge that the REASON for the life blood to drain from the Holy Creator of the Universe was our own sin???? What can we do? Are we to just take it in and ponder this news? Are we undone with no hope of repayment for this ultimate act? We are.

So we gratefully thank Him, we acknowledge that we did nothing to earn this sacrifice and we can do nothing that holds a candle to it in exchange. We realize how valued we are, for no other reason than that our Father just CHOSE to make us the objects of His affection and we lay our lives before Him to use as He sees fit.

We tell others, we do good, we serve the poor, we selflessly give of ourselves inasmuch as we are able with the sin sickness and it's grimy deposits coloring our deeds and we say "yes, Lord. Good Friday was good indeed"!