Redeeming into Beautiful Things

Has God ever given you a deja vu moment?

I came home from getting my hair trimmed and a quick run to the grocery store to see Josh and Addy coming toward me from their bike ride. Addy was wearing an old outfit from Cheyenne, our foster daughter, and the same helmet Chey use to wear while riding her Hello Kitty bike. I had to look twice because Addy looked so much like Chey.

I had a little lump in my throat and quickly swallowed it.

But I couldn't help my mind from thinking of the ways God had and has been redeeming the past.

Cheyenne had our hearts. She called us "mommy" and "daddy" We were captivated by her for ten beautiful months.

That December when we transitioned her back to her bio mom was difficult to say the least. Christmas was awkward to celebrate and nothing felt the same. A few months prior to her return, we had a miscarriage. And a few weeks before she returned, we decided to get our beagle, Cocoa. I knew I would need something to snuggle.

Lately, I'm reminded of how much of the past pain and heartache God has been redeeming, over and over again.

Honestly, I'm overwhelmed by it.

A few months ago, we found out we were expecting again and just yesterday, at 21 weeks, we found out our little one is a little man. Addy is thrilled and so are we.

On the days I feel overwhelmed as a mom (and they are many), I try to remind myself of what God is doing through our lives. I try to remember my blessings, little and big. 

We told many of our friends and family we were pregnant, but not early on. And I know it was hard for many of them to not see it on Facebook right away. I just want you to know, we were really enjoying telling people as we could, face to face. We felt such a joy being able to see peoples reactions and have them share in our joy. You can't fully capture those moments over social media, now can you?! 

Also, having gone through loss ourselves, we are ultra sensitive to sharing this news with others, especially over social media. We by no means want to cause further grief to those already suffering enough. But thank you friends for being gracious in our news and sharing in our joy. 

Cheyenne use to love singing the Gungor song "Beautiful Things" and to me it captured so much of her little life and soul. 

Right now, it encompasses so much of my heart. Even through my unknown, fear-ridden days as a mom, carrying another little life inside of me, I need to know that He is continuing to make beautiful things out of me...out of all of us. 

Everyone's story is a beautiful depiction of God's redemption being woven into and through our lives. Sharing in each other's pain and joy is a way of showing others a glimpse of God at work, whatever part of the journey we are on. 

An Advent Plea of "Come Lord Jesus"

Advent, or the "coming of" our Savior, has taken on a new meaning this year.

Coming off of the busyness of the Thanksgiving holiday and too many consecutive late nights in a row, I found myself wanting to celebrate Advent this year, but differently.

I begin celebrating Christmas early every year.

My husband rolls his eyes at me, my good friends say they still love me.

Call me crazy, I celebrate in the off season usually.

Less stress, less things on a to-do-list and I feel like a rebel.

I tend to begin celebrating Christmas in July.

I was the girl who requested of her husband in the labor and delivery room at the hospital to play Christmas music for me when I was having our daughter, Adelynne.

It was August. Hot, sticky August.

Yup, I am that girl.

I am that girl who gathers my co-workers in July or a summer month for a Christmas party, complete with decorating sugar cookies, Christmas movies and Christmas games and caroling.

I'm that girl.

I choose to celebrate in the off season because during real Christmas

I

get

stressed.

I'm growing weary of making Christmas arrangements and booking our calendar

till it cries out for mercy.

I'm growing weary of so much being jammed into one month,

granted one special month, but still one month.

I truly love celebrating Christmas but sometimes I can understand how perhaps the

Grinch got to be the way that he was.

This year, I currently feel on top of things and my to-do list is dwindling.

I honestly feel ahead of the game.

I stayed up till 3 am during one of the days after Thanksgiving, doing Christmas shopping online.

This has become my favorite mode of Christmas shopping, especially with a toddler in toe.

We got our tree chopped down and up sooner than normal, though it's still missing it's ornaments.

We have an idea of our family time and a few other friend get-togethers on the calendar.

And now I feel I can slow down my pace and perhaps enjoy the rest of the month????

But, just when I feel my stress chillin' out, my heart is just aching tonight.

This week has been full of more mixed emotions than I care to mention.

Between changing diapers, disciplining a toddler, doing Christmas crafts,

Christmas shopping, Christmas programs, cleaning up another sink of dishes, doing more laundry, crying, laughing, hugging, getting mad....

I think I might just check myself in.

So many mixed emotions, carrying around the news tonight of a friend, fellow wife and mom of three beautiful little children who has left this earth and entered the glory of heaven.

Cancer.

That ugly word that brings to mind so many negative memories in my mind.

The loss of my grandparents, a young friend a few years ago.

The battle that so many fight every day.

I think about the fight to survive. And then I think about when the fight is over how a new battle begins: working hard to build a legacy of memories for those who are left behind.

Am I too forward to say it's unfair, unjust?

Am I unreasonable to ask "why?"

Some how all of my "getting ahead of the game" ideas are null and void now.

The stress of the season doesn't matter.

I'm sitting here in our cozy living room, Christmas lights on our tree, stockings hung

and somehow it doesn't feel right.

It doesn't feel fair.

She was much too young. Cancer is no respecter of ages.

So much sadness.

I also learned that one of my regular customers husband committed suicide a few days ago.

I found out while I was at work.

And again, the mixed emotions came.

I had to put on a face, to be the spunky barista and get thru my shift.

But I broke down with another customer later in the day.

I'm only human.

Another faithful customer, who comes in every morning, was yet another reminder of such sadness this season. Her husband also passed away a few short months ago.

Cancer...again.

He left behind his beautiful young wife and two adorable children.

Every time she comes thru our drive thru she is the epitome of strength in her grief. I admire her.

Precious lives, lived so well, yet too short.

This December, I also remember my friend who lost her baby a few years ago.

I remember another friend whose mom just passed away.

December can be such a cheery, joyful month and also such a dreaded month for many others.

It can be full of loss and grief and memories.

I remember one such December when I was younger.

My Grandpa was passing away from cancer. He was on hospice at home.

My mom and dad, brother and I stayed at his house, in the basement.

I remember my folks doing their best to make Christmas special.

But I remember barely getting through one more Christmas with my Grandpa.

He died just a few days after Christmas.

I'm reminded of such sadness all around the world tonight.

I'm praying for those grieving and struggling to survive.

This world is such a cruel place to live sometimes.

Makes me glad it's my temporary home.

Makes me long with Hope for the coming of our Lord.

Makes me reflect thru this Advent season in anticipation of One

who is coming to make all things new.

And there are many, many in need of redemption.

I attended our church's Women's Christmas Dinner last night.

The program for the evening really was beautiful.

It wasn't typical. It broke out of the norm and took us into the lives of the main female characters in the Nativity story: Mary, Hannah, Elizabeth and Anna.

The story masterfully wove itself into the main theme of,

"The Heart of Christmas: Emmanuel, God with us."

Of all weeks, I needed to hear that message.

God with us.

When I think about the exploited children around the world, of the displaced in Iraq, of the sex trafficked young victims, even in our very own state...

God is with us.

When I think about those trying to survive, of the widow, the motherless, the fatherless...

God is with us.

Into the unknown territory we step, trusting in a God we can't see with human eyes, but who our hearts can know personally.

God is with us.

I need to know there is hope now, not just that there will be hope coming.

I need to know there is enough hope to start me on my journey this Advent toward the lowly stable.

I need to embrace hope as I celebrate the coming of our Savior into this world.

He has come!!

Eyes can see, deaf can hear, dead will live again.

He came. He is God with us.

He came because we needed a way out.

He came because salvation needed a face we could believe with hope.

He is the face of Love itself.

Love.

Love come down in human form in order to explain the mystery of death, of pain, of grief.

This December, I need that reminder.

As I watch Adelynne play with her little nativity set, I'm reminded of where He came to.

"Where were you born, Addy?"  I ask her.

"In hospital," she smartly responds.

"That's right. Were there doctors and nurses around when you were born?"

"Yes."

"Where was baby Jesus born?"

"In a barn."

"Who was with Baby Jesus' mommy and daddy when he was born?"

"Animals! Cows, donkey's, sheep, horses."

He came to the lowly place. A place made for animals, not fit for a King.

Because we need him in our lowly places.

We have a Great High Priest who sympathizes with us!!

How great our joy!

This Advent, as I reflect, remember and celebrate Jesus' coming to earth,

I am pleading for His second coming.

My heart aches for it. My soul finds rest in it.

Take Heart

Music is full of memories for me. 

I'll hear a song and it will remind me of a time when...

Sometimes music transports me to such fond, joyful times. 

Other times music expresses my heart through pain, adversity and questions. 

Music is indeed a powerful tool. 

Worship music for me has always proven to be the most powerful tool. There's some good chorus' and there's some not so great. I have little tolerance for shallow lyrics, especially in worship. 

I have a hard time with patriotic anthems being used in a worship service, for example. 

I'm not a fan of them. 

Because their not worship. 

Worship is also less about style and preference and ALL about who you're worshiping. 

I prefer worship services where the worship leaders lead the congregation from behind, because their not the focus. By the way, I've only experienced this once. 

But worship, good, true, lyrically rich worship is so good for my soul, my mind, my heart, my body. 

About three years ago, I was driving down the road with a sweet little curly blond haired girl in my back seat. The car was packed  and a long drive was before us. 

I was alone in my thoughts and alone in the depths of my soul. 

I felt 

Weary. 

Doubtful. 

Fearful. 

I felt alone. 

Our foster daughter slept peacefully in the back. 

She didn't know why I was sobbing. 

Would we make it home? 

How much time would I have? 

There were still hopeful possibilities, right? 

I felt my doubt return and shoot that idea down. 

I just had to focus on getting home. 

I had to be ready for 

blood

cramping

tears. 

We had just left a week of high school camp. 

I allowed people to be excited for us, 

to touch my belly, 

to offer names suggestions. 

But in my heart of hearts I wasn't sure our baby was still in my tummy. 

I wasn't sure. 

I had to focus. 

I had to get through the week and then see. 

That's what the doctors said the day before we left for camp. 

Josh and I had gone in for our very first prenatal appointment. 

I was seven or eight weeks along. 

I thought. 

There was no thrill of a heart beat sound. 

There was nothing inside my uterus. 

Maybe I wasn't as far along as I thought. 

So we waited. My midwife said I may be miscarrying but I would know in a week. 

We left for camp the next day. 

I was such a mix of emotions the entire trip. I went for Cheyenne, our foster daughter. She was so excited for this trip, to play in the lake, sleep in a tent. 

I went for her. 

The last night of camp the cramping and bleeding began. I was two hours from home. 

Cheyenne and I left first thing the last morning of camp. 

And we drove. 

She slept. 

I cried. 

Sobbed. 

And...I worshiped. 

I can't explain it. 

But it was all I had to cling to. All I knew. All of my hope. 

There are certain songs that take me back to such happy, joyful times. And there are other songs that remind me of loss, grief and excruciating pain. 

This song, "Take Heart" was one I played over and over as Cheyenne slept and I drove. It was a release of emotions and will. I didn't understand. I didn't know I wanted to understand right then and there. I wasn't looking for answers or people's pity. I just needed to know there was still hope. 

I've been singing this song a lot lately these days. It took my sights high back then in August, 2011. Now it's setting my sights high again. 

I'm thinking about my two friends suffering from cancer. Their parents pulling out all the stops, their kids hoping beyond hope for miracles. 

I'm thinking about my own dear family members suffering from chronic pain and fatigue. 

I'm thinking about friends and family without work, scraping by. 

I'm thinking about parents I know scrounging for money for their children's medical bills. 

I'm thinking about my homeless friends who come into our cafe ever day just to  be among people and get something to eat or drink or use our bathroom. 

I'm thinking about a little guy we know who just lost his mom unexpectedly this past summer.

I'm thinking about friends who were thrilled to expect their first child and lost her around 36 weeks. 

I'm thinking of other dear friends who have miscarried once, twice, six times.  

I'm thinking about children being beheaded on the other side of the world. 

I'm thinking about the parents and family who grieve the sudden loss of their children who died recently from an e coli outbreak. 

I'm thinking about the fear and pain that has impaired too many school children after enduring a shooting in their school. I'm thinking about the parents and siblings who will look at this school year completely different because of what's happened. 

Pain

Hard Ache. 

Grief

It's hard to look at all of this misery with a clear vision. 

It's hard to experience any sort of grief involving children, now as a mom. I cry way more about it now then I ever have. 

It's a sick, twisted, evil world. 

And tonight, I'm not looking for answers. 

I'm wanting to know there is still hope. 

Hope. 

Hope is that one thing that I believe our faith in God can boast about. 

Our hope is unique. 

It's bold. 

It's gentle. 

It's inviting. 

It's cleansing and freeing. 

It leads to answers and points toward the God who gives and takes away. 

He. 

He who has overcome. 

All of this pain, 

All of this hurt. 

All of these tears. 

He has overcome. 

So tonight, take heart. 

Take Heart

There is a light, it burns brighter than the sun

He steals the night and casts no shadow

There is hope, should oceans rise and mountains fall

He never fails

So take heart

Let His love lead us through the night

Hold on to hope

And take courage again

In death by love the fallen world was overcome

He wears the scars of our freedom

In His name all our fears are swept away

He never fails

So take heart

Let His love lead us through the night

Hold on to hope

And take courage again

All our troubles and all our tears

God, our hope, He has overcome

All our failure and all our fear

God, our love, He has overcome

All our heartache and all our pain

God, our healer, He has overcome

All our burdens and all our shame

God, our freedom, He has overcome

All our troubles and all our tears

God, our hope, He has overcome

All our failures and all our fear

God, our love, He has overcome

God, our justice, God, our grace

God, our freedom, He has overcome

God, our refuge, God, our strength

God is with us, He has overcome

Mothering Failures and Other Musings...

I didn't realize how much guilt I'd experience as a mother. Apparently it's more common than I knew.

A friend stopped through the drive-thru at the coffee shop the other day. It didn't take me long to realize that she didn't have her little lady in the back seat with her. When I asked where her side kick was she was slightly struggling for words. Then she finally let out, "She's with her Daddy today! I know it's weird I don't usually get out without her. But my husband said he wanted to take her and run some errands so I was like, uh okay!"

She then confessed that she feels...

"Guilt?" I finished for her.

"YES," she said. It was like she felt comforted to know that I too felt the same feelings when I went out for mommy time without my little lady.

Apparently, the feelings of guilt are more common than I first realized.

I thought I was a special class of crazy mommy's who fretted over their little one whenever they attempted to get out of the house for some mom time, girl time or husband time.

I'm getting better but I still don't like leaving when she's awake. This is the convenient part of working at 5 am.! I escape having to say goodbye to her. Not my favorite thing.

But I'm getting better.

Of course I realize that having mommy time is good for us.

I told my husband the other day that I have been feeling disconnected to what he's connected to (something we had as a pre-Addy point of connection for us). And, I managed to say that I'm loosing interest in what I once loved (writing and researching).

My thoughts are not clear anymore. Most of my sentences seem to run in fragments and are constantly being started and re-started as I tango my active toddler.

Before you start to provide a not so helpful phrase like, "Just wait till you have three kids" or, "Honey, it's all a part of being a mommy" let me assure you that I know that. Well, I know it as much as I humanly can right now.

But what I'm vegging about is that I don't want to loose passions and abilities that I know are God-given. I merely want encouragement on how to exercise them and feel human in the season I'm in.

I want to do what is set before me and do it well, not half-hearted.

And, lest you think I don't enjoy being a mommy, I'd ask you to re-think that entirely. I LOVE BEING A MOMMY (just watch my Instagram; I have a mild obsession with posting pictures of my side kick)! I love being a homemaker and I love being there for so many of Addy's discoveries. She's a delight and I will always love her and what she has brought into my life.

I am currently in the season of being a mommy and wife and trying to work out what serving Jesus looks like now.

I'm very thankful for four amazing junior high girls and one very awesome co-leader who have decided since January to walk with me in a life group, once a week together. These girls have helped me feel more human lately. They have helped me exercise gifts and be blown away humbled as they've loved on my family as well. Addy adores them and often thinks that anytime we go to visit Da Da at church that the "girls" will be there too.

I might also say I'm quite tickled by my friendships with my friends who aren't mothers but who truly want to come take a walk with me and Addy or ask my thoughts on theology or life. They make me feel like a valued human being in more ways than I can describe. I'm quite thankful for them.

And, call me crazy but this year I've accepted co-teaching classes for junior high camp and Addy will be coming along with us. I'm still trying to figure out the timing of teaching and working around Addy's schedule and Josh's directing schedule...but you know what? I'm stoked to try something new!

Another thing has happened to me recently. Two very kind woman come to my door on a regular basis and we discuss theology, the Bible and our own journeys. Their Jehovah's Witnesses and I haven't told them I'm not interested yet. They intrigue me in a non-creepy way. I think it's because their open to discuss, even when we royally disagree. I can hug them when they leave and welcome them back. They make me stronger in what I believe because I have something in which to sharpen my faith against.

Our times haven't been about whose right and wrong. I haven't tried to come up with some well-reasoned rebuttal to their comments. I'm listening and so are they. I'm researching and so are they. I'm quite happy they're in my life. And I love getting to know them as people first and foremost.

I've taken a few steps out of helping Josh with most of the ministry stuff I use to do. I found it too hard to be good at being a mom and be all present and available as a staff member. On Sunday's, I can be found at the church's coffee stand whippin' up mocha's and latte's and attending Sunday School with the adults for the first time in about nine years. I miss the connection with the youth and Josh in helping out, but I also knew that I needed an adult outlet for my own faith and well-being.

It's a season (don't ya just love that phrase?!).

There are a lot of assumptions put on to pastor's families. One is that his wife (and family) will just go along with whatever he is doing. Josh has done a great job of protecting me and Addy from that assumption. Understand that saying "no" to certain events that we normally would have done can be difficult. And, yup there's guilt that comes with the saying "no." But all in all, I feel like we're trying to be good stewards of what God has given us.

I don't want to be another statistic of a failing pastor's family who walk away from ministry burned out and sickened by the church. The church fails all the time because people fail...all the time. Yet, I see a certain beauty in it's presence that hasn't pushed me away yet. In fact, I love the church and seek to help redeem it all the time.

Yet, being a family in full-time ministry isn't easy.

There are many times when I feel like a single parent (not Josh's fault) because of all of the directions and things he is "strongly encouraged to attend."

It isn't easy forming traditions for our own family around the holiday's because of the many services he has to be at or events that are planned that we should probably make an appearance at.

There's late night youth events and gatherings, there's connections with the staff and students on the side, there's meetings and visits to the hospital.

And, I also work two or three days a week.

Many times our schedules are opposite. Yet, we're trying to find that happy balance or a balance none the less.

I have come to appreciate little times we get together as a family: a grocery shopping trip, a coffee date, a walk in our neighborhood to see the horse, goats and chickens that are out next door. Little things are becoming big things.

Play dates for Addy are also fellow mommy dates for me! I'm loving that. I sometimes get so slap happy with arranging play dates for Addy because I need to talk to and see MY friends (is that okay?!). Sure, our times together are never undisturbed, but it's okay. I'm loving being a mom with my fellow friends.

In the midst of it all, I realize that I will fail--as a mom, a wife, a daughter, a friend...

The journey we are all on is quite diverse in nature. No one story is the same.

We are susceptible to change, tragedy and triumph.

Life is more than a bowl full of cherries.

Life is more like a buffet line of some really great tasting food and some food that should stay in a baby food jar.

Life for each individual is for sure more than ever meets the eye. And, like the married couple in the movie, "Date Night," who ask while at dinner in a restaurant, "What's their story?" I can't help it...I wanna know the deeper story of a persons existence. I want to know more about their journey and less about my opinion of it.

You may assume you know a woman's life just by looking at her, how composed she is in her fashion, her mothering, her job. But do you really know the deep down frustrations, guilt and loneliness she experiences every day?

In whatever season (there it is again) of life you find yourself in, I hope to be that person in your life who doesn't assume to know who you are and what your experiencing without first getting to really know you. I don't mean Facebook stalking you either, because that's actually not a healthy way to truly get to know someone. I mean, I hope I can get to know you, have a mommy play date and talk always interrupted about our journey's.

Our relationship can be the type that finds a commonality in trying to get our kids to eat just one more bite, of adding yet one more thing to our already crazy calendar. We can relate and challenge and encourage. We can listen and rejoice, cry and get upset. We can find resolution and solitude in least likely places (I keep trying for two minutes of uninterrupted potty time...hasn't happened yet).

Mothering isn't easy.

Parenting is hardly ever like it is in the books.

Kids aren't all cookie cutters.

Sometimes life really is the pits.

Yet, joy is a gift that, if we always experienced it, would it really be a gift?

I'm learning to love this season (yup, I said it again). Learning... and always a student.