You Can Say No, But...

When you go through the foster licensing process, there is a special form you have to fill in. It is just a long, long, long checklist of diagnoses and descriptions. You have to say yes or no to each on that list.  My husband and I have filled it in three separate times. 

It is a little like a game. We sit staring at one another as the social worker reads each item on the list. The game is trying to answer the same as your partner.  Not really, our rule is that if one says no, then the answer is no, but still. 

It isn't actually a game, but trying to be playful takes the ick off the process. It feels so wrong rejecting unknown kids based on the things that oughtn't define them. At the same time, it is an important step in the process. First, it compels careful consideration (Accidental alliteration! score!) by the prospective family. You have to talk about what you're willing and able to do. 

When we lived in a teeny apartment, a wheelchair was not an option, so we needed to say no. My husband and I have taken ASL classes and love the language, so we said yes to children who were deaf or hard of hearing. We had two aging dogs, so cruelty to animals was a no-go for us. ADHD and dyslexia are in the water we drink, so those were easy yeses for us, too. If you don't think you can do it, you should say no, because these kids coming from hard places need to be welcomed.

So, you do the icky list. It's rough, but get through it and take it seriously (while you're having fun) and say your no. It matters...until it doesn't.

Yep, that's the catch. Just like with biological kids, there is a lot out of our control with foster and adopted kids. Life happens. And people living in dinky apartments sometimes end up needing to use wheelchairs.

We made our list this time around, too. There are things we said no to that are now part of our lives. The difference is that we aren't talking about abstract experiences or diagnoses. They are our little girls and there is no backing out now--and we wouldn't dream of it.

The Differences We See: Tale of Two States

My husband and I were born and raised in California. Just three and a half years ago we moved to Iowa. For funzies, I'd like to share some of the differences between the two states.

NUMBER ONE. I hear it is because there are no professional teams in the area, but college pride is off the charts around here. The two colleges can be seen everywhere. Vanity plates and frames, sweatshirts, hats, and mugs. When I was teaching preschool, my little students wore one or the other and were being well-trained in their particular fandom.  Outside a hotel we stayed at, the two flags hung off opposite ends of the entrance. We have a neighbor with a special split flag and the words, "A House Divided." When we bought our own home, it took a load of paint to get that Hawkeye off our office wall. Iowans care about their alma maters, baby!

NUMBER TWO.  Iowan drivers vs. Californian drivers. I have heard the jokes about Californian drivers, and I think many are well-earned. Californians speed and the California stop is a real thing. But I will take California drivers every time over Iowan drivers.  Forgive the pun, but it's time to buckle up, because here comes my rant!  

Iowans tailgate. Like, they get right up on you and just stay there.  There is room to pass, but they are content to drive mere feet from the car in front of them.  And it isn't just private drivers.  Semis do it! It is horrifying to have one of those killers get so close that the grill fills your rearview mirrors.  I much prefer someone weaving through traffic at 90 mph over a road full of tailgaters at 55.

Speaking of truckers, they drive like they are cars.  Aside from tailgating, they change lanes on a whim and drive in the left lane for miles on end.  In California, most truckers were pretty awesome.  They stuck to the slow lanes unless something was up. Then they would coordinate to help protect drivers from hazards. In Iowa truckers vie for position, repeatedly passing one another while paying no attention to other motorists.  Drives me nuts!

NUMBER THREE. Coat racks are everywhere in Iowa. I think a combination of climate and a more trusting culture contribute to this phenomenon. Churches, schools, and businesses have huge coat racks in them.  Restaurants have these cool flippy ones at the end of each booth. Some buildings architecturally have designated space for them. Others have huge racks on wheels that come out every winter.  It is cool...and weird to me. In California, we lived both in the central valley where snow was rare and in the mountains with snow and below freezing temps for at least three months out of the year. But we were expected to hang on to our own coats wherever we went.

NUMBER FOUR. Accents. So, there isn't a massive difference between the way people speak between these two states. But the transplants to Iowa tend to be from directly north or south, so there are more 'y'alls' and 'donchaknows' than we encountered in California, which has a broader reach in their diversity.  Iowans are also more likely to say eye-talian instead of Italian and that makes me giggle.

While the pronunciations of words are similar, there are some distinctions to the words chosen. Californians drink soda while Iowans drink pop. Californians get splinters, but Iowans get slivers. Californians eat breakfast, lunch, then dinner. Iowans tend toward breakfast, lunch, and supper. (I know some places eat breakfast, dinner, and supper.) I used to keep track of the different terminology because I find it fascinating. Now I think I am acclimating because I notice it less.

NUMBER FIVE. The neighborly neighbors. When we were house hunting in Iowa, we still had one of our sweet Beagle babies and a fully fenced yard was a must--and nearly impossible to find.  Iowans don't do fences as a regular thing. Our realtor was vexed by our own vexation over the absence of fences.  We explained that a new build in California wouldn't have any landscaping, but that six-foot privacy fences were standard. I don't think she believed us.

We did manage to find a fully fenced yard, but it's a three-foot chain linked affair. The wind in Iowa is fierce and year-round, so I can see the unpractical side of fences here. But there is another aspect. Iowans are neighborly! Like, SUPER neighborly. We live in a wonderful old neighborhood where the residents have already raised their children together.  At the last block party, the former owners of our home attended because they are still rooted here. 

It's so weird to this Californian who thought she was neighborly because she smiled, said hello, AND even knew a few of the neighbors' names! This is a whole new level of neighborly, and I cognitively appreciate it. I have come to love the people on either side of us and the family behind us.  I love having kids my kids love playing with.  There is nothing so cool as seeing them climb that chain-link to play together. But I also feel like I don't have a back yard to call my own. It's just so public!

NUMBER SIX. Cuisine, or lack thereof. You can find a Mexican restaurant on every other corner. Korean places don't stay in business long, which is lamentable to this invisible Korean girl. On the Fast-Food side of things, there is no Jack in the Box or In'n'Out Burger. No Habit Burger. And Carl's Jr is called Hardy's. 

There is a BeBops, which serves retro diner food. It is fast a cheap and has decent fish sandwiches. There is also a locally loved place called Culvers. I don't get it. Every time we have tried it, they get our order wrong, and the food is soggy and cold. I don't get Culvers.  There is also Ornery Chicken, a dine-out-only place that is delicious and pricey.

But the biggest disparity is the pizza. Oh, my word, the pizza. Iowan mouths don't tend toward spices. The overwhelmingly favorite is from Casey's, the gas station. Oh, my non-Iowan readers, I kid you not. Gas station pizza is everyone's favorite. I'm just gonna stop there.

Thanks for reading. These comparisons are fun. We love living in Iowa, though I might have chosen a littler Norther, had I known about the fake snow and too-common tornadoes. But we are so thankful to be right where we are, to adopt our girls, to love our neighbors and friends, and be thankful that we only have to shovel snow once a year.

It Seemed Like Such a Good Idea

 It took days to shake the image from my mind.  My daughter, with safety goggles propped up unsafely on her head, left hand on a piece of wood, right hand aiming a power drill at the same piece of wood, was grinning at me as I entered the area.  To be abundantly clear, her eyes were on ME while her finger was on the trigger of the drill aimed at her hand. Can you see it? I can't STOP seeing it.

The day started so beautifully.  It was a Friday that my husband had off. The girls actually slept in a bit. We had a peaceful breakfast. The weather was nice enough for them to play outside, which they did without a fuss. After a leisurely morning, we thought it would a great idea to spend the afternoon at the science museum.  We had been once before, and it was just the last hour that the place was open.  It went well, so this seemed a great way to fill a few hours.

When we got there, one of our girls was attacked by ADHD FOMO. She couldn't focus on anything because her eyes kept wandering to other areas to see what she was missing. She was totally overwhelmed. 

Next we tried to sit through an astronomy film on the domed screen.  That was just silly, expecting 4, 7, and 9-year-old girls to be still for that long.  Bust.

So we headed for the "Maker" area. Crafting is my girls' idea of heaven. It is the one activity that can occupy the bigs for hours. There were several stations within the area, and I settled into one with the littlest.  The other two wandered around, getting the lay of the land.  They settled in the wood-working area. When the baby followed them, I did, too.

Which is when I got my haunting nightmare image that won't leave me alone.  My husband was setting each up at a different station and had given instructions to the eldest first. Then she apparently ticked every box of instruction and did the opposite. Safety goggles? Certainly not on her eyes. Placement of hands? Certainly right where the drill is going to go. Where do you look when your hand is on the trigger? Well, obviously never at the drill itself. Be still my heart!

March: 2023

So, in March '22, we were living the dream. We were doing whatever we wanted to. I was looking for a different job, and trying to find a way to fit in at church, but life was easy--except for the unending illnesses we kept contracting from sick preschoolers. In the eight months I worked there, I had Covid twice, Bronchitis three times, flu, colds, pink eye... It would have been laughable had laughing not triggered breathless coughing fits.

If we fast forward to March '23, the list of changes in our lives was long! My daughter moved into her first apartment, oof! I earned a Master of Science degree in Learning Experience Design and Educational Technology. I got a new job (called The Best Job in The World--outside raising kids) working at a preschool a mile from my home as a 3s teacher two mornings a week, a 4s Assistant one morning a week, and a PreK teacher every afternoon. 

I need to pause to say how serious I am about it being the Best Job Ever. That PreK class was phenomenal! My boss was the most supportive and encouraging boss I'd ever had. And my coworkers? I've never met an entire crew of people so wholly dedicated to loving and teaching children. The board (fewer accolades there, tbh) had just approved opening a Kindergarten class for the following year, so my boss and I were dreaming and brainstorming curriculum, advertising, and schedules. So fun!

Oh, and I need to add another little change to the list of happenings from '22 to '23. We got licensed for foster care and were adjusting to doubling our household with three—THREE—little girls! What?!? How did that happen? We were done. Foster care had shredded our hearts. We were in retirement and nearly empty nesters. We were going to travel. I got a cool degree that I could use to do anything. We were dancing.

Well, I will tell you. Roe v Wade was overturned. The church we were attending had a guest speaker who said there was a difference between being pro-birth and pro-life. Being pro-birth was not enough.  To be pro-life, we needed to meet people as they were living through difficult times, "from womb to tomb." 

There could possibly be an uptick in unwanted babies born. It is an awful thing to be unwanted. My husband was deeply moved and announced that afternoon that if God allowed it, we were going to adopt so we could be a home where kids would know they were wanted. Wow! 

So here we were in March, planning a massive uptick in my commitment to work while fostering three little girls we desperately wanted to adopt. In March, we had gotten word that perhaps they would go back to their first parents. I was an emotional wreck. We never intended to actually foster again.  We wanted only adoptable kids. The girls themselves had heavy burdens of trauma, delays, and needs. Caring for one was more than a full-time job. Three? Fugedaboutit.

What a March!

My Friend

I was wondering what I could write about, and my friend was helping me brainstorm.  She facetiously suggested herself as the topic and did a little cheeky twirl. Since she knows me well, she quickly followed up with a deep-voiced, "Don't write about me." But she does know me well, so I'm gonna! 

It's a great idea because support is everything. We were made by a triune God Whose very essence is relational. It's no wonder that people are pivotal to our success through various seasons of life. We have been extravagantly blessed with friends. We are astonishingly and undeservedly RICH with people who walk through fire with us! I will tell you about one now.

When you go through the foster parent licensing process, you get asked endlessly about your support system. And for good reason. This oughtn't be done alone. We were blessed this time (our third licensing class) by sitting immediately behind strangers who are now seeing us through some of the most challenging and grace-filled moments of our lives.

This woman is the heart of her family, and what a heart she has! She brought dinner to us when the girls first arrived--then left, knowing we needed to cocoon ourselves to form a new family. She has listened to me for hours that add up to months as I vent, worry, gush, wrestle, and grieve regarding these girls and their stories--plus every other part of my life.

This woman is a whiz in the kitchen and lives to feed others.  She's excellent with kids, empowering them to be brave and try new things.  She is an amazing friend, who expends a tremendous amount of energy searching out ways to bless them. She is so proud of her husband, always bragging about him except when she's baiting him.

She listens. She prays. She is gentle with my failings and encourages me to stand up again. She is so very funny. She is extravagantly generous yet actively seeks how to be extravagantly generous as if she doesn't already live that way. She does things even when she is scared.

She gets grief. She doesn't try to fix what she cannot. She abides, sitting in the pain and brokenness, making it better by doing nothing. 

She embraces people, just as they are. She embraces differences with delight and curiosity. When I slip with one of my crazy quirks, she laughs and eagerly says, "Oh, tell me more about THAT!"

When she goes to the gym, she prays before entering that God put someone in her path who needs encouragement.  When she encounters a stranger or a dear friend, she lights up either way, because all she sees is someone she can love.

She lives life with us, and we are so thankful and humbled.  Her family is wonderful, and we will never be able to repay all they've given. I pray blessings for her as she continues to find ways to live generously.

We were made for relationships. She gets that, and we are so thankful to get to call her friend! 

Driving

My adult daughter was in the car with me and mentioned how I point at semi-trucks whenever we get close to one. (I point at them to tell them to stay put.) She said they aren't targeting me; I don't need to drive like everyone is aiming at me. By the way, getting life advice from our young adult children is the best!

The idea shocked me. I don't often feel like all the cars are gunning for mine.  Actually, it's quite the opposite. I feel invisible. I am scared I will get into an accident because someone didn't see me and just tried to be in my space.  

Is this a deeper thing?  Are there people who don't worry about getting into accidents?  It's actually been something that threatens phobia-level fear at different times in my life.  There are seasons when I am a comfortable, confident driver.  Seasons when I have less access to a car, I become timid. The sense that the other drivers won't see me grows, and driving is an exhausting activity.

Even when I am feeling confident, I still point at trucks. I figure they need a little extra help.

It's COLD!

 Woooo!  It is a cold week!  We have had negative temperatures--minus another ten-to-twenty degrees with the wind chill factor.  The nice thing is that the snow is sticking around.  You know, we moved here because of the snow.  Our last five years in California were spent in the Sacramento Valley and winters were non-existent.  I missed the snow from the 17 years we'd spent in the mountains, and when we were looking for a new home, snow was a must.

This is our fourth winter here, and I have to say I haven't been impressed.  There are one or two storms that demand we shovel and several other snowfalls that melt away in a day.  I begrudgingly admit this is a blessing because I have three family members who all commute to other cities for work, but still...

So, it's cold, and that keeps the snow on our lawn.  And that makes me happy!

I miss you.

Diane,
I wish I could talk to you. You have been gone over two years and your birthmonth is approaching. I dread it. This grief is threatening to define me and I do not want that. You and God wouldn't either, I know. Maybe those are the only reasons I don't want it. And that my family deserves better. 

A lot has happened to me since you left that I wish I could have talked with you about. Big things have happened like deciding to move (truly a big thing by itself) and then actually moving.  Brian's job change has been so challenging. The adjustments  the kids have made are admirable. I became a mentor, which is simultaneously exciting and laughable. I am anxious about a medical exam and I could really use your guidance in how much grace I should give myself. See? Just that sentence would have set you off on a sermon. 

Max is graduating high school and turning 18. Eighteen!!  We are fast approaching the last day in all the world that I can say my son will be an adult in months!  Other big things is that a guy wanted to ask Madi out and Brian told him no. Then it happened again months later and Brian said yes. Then Madi said yes, so she is going to a high school dance this weekend. My little girl is going to a high school dance!  That is something this homeschooling momma never anticipated. Nor did I expect to have a 15 year old girl going on a date of any sort. I would like to talk with you about it all in excited rushes and in quiet confessionals. 

The kids are so full of personality. They make me laugh and I know you would love to listen to their ideas. They take becoming adults seriously, but attack the tasks from such different perspectives, it is fascinating. I would love your wisdom in how to best mother them through these transitions. 

My marriage is really good. Work, for sure, but shockingly, blessedly good. We are so thankful for the hand you still play in that truth. 

We are going to buy a car. Since we haven't done that in 15 years, that qualifies as a big thing, too. 

But even more pressing are all the little things. The nothings that do not even need to be talked about are what I want to talk about. I miss you much because of these. Yesterday my poop looked like a circumcised penis and I think you would have liked to have known that. I came up with a game show idea called 'Do You Trust Yourself?' and NO ONE has any interest in hammering out the details with me. Just because my initial plan involved wiping a contestant's memory. What's with that?  Ever since Caleb gave me whooping cough, whenever I get sick, my lungs snore. I want to tell you my thoughts on Grimm since you wanted me to watch the show so badly and I refused. I finished HIMYM just for you, too. I couldn't do Hawaii 5-0, though. 

Walking across the many bridges at my apartment complex in the rain scares the shit out of me. They are so slippery and I think falling would ruin more than my day. It rains every week here and never snows. It is an effort to not be burdened by that. It rains all day and all night. All night. 

Our new neighbors got two dogs and one is a pit!  Part of me wants to rip my shirt open in the ever-falling rain while collapsing to my knees and wailing 'Why?!?' to the sky, half hoping to drown like a stupid chicken. The other part is all fat little determined Disney fairy, determined to go all out Jesus on their asses. Like, I am gonna learn whatever lesson God has for me so that I never have to live under a fricken dog for the rest of my life!

Oh, I really want to tell you about Buttercup. She is precious. Glimpsing from my angle into the foster system stirs up so much in me, it would be such a help to talk it all out with you. There are quite a few things I cannot even bring myself to type that I would talk with you about. These things are so mysterious and confusing that I only whisper them to God and Brian. 

We started attending a new church. We want to be involved in a church family so much but we are terrible misfits wherever we go. I have hope and fear that I would really like to carry to the Throne with you. 

Brian is sick.  So....  you know. That sucks. 

I could really use your words, too. I want to hear about David and Kiso and Cher. How you are proud and when you are concerned? I want to pray for your friends who are moving through crises. I want to be inspired by your choices to grow. And I could stand to hear one more sermon on how great I am. 

I want to end this like David did, with praises to God. He supplies. He is faithful. He is loving. Yup. All true. But I still miss you. 

Nerdy

Check out the photo I found on Pinterest below (Don’t you just love Pinterest?).  I have a whole board that celebrates nerds.  Nerd hasn’t always been an embraceable term, though.  When I was growing up, to be called a nerd was pretty disparaging.  I took it upon myself to do the eighth-grade essay-hack and looked up the word on Dictionary.com.  Even though I knew there would be unfavorable points, I was shocked at number one: “a stupid, irritating, ineffectual, or unattractive person.” Wow. Number two is slightly less insulting: “an intelligent but single-minded person obsessed with a nonsocial hobby or pursuit.”   The kindest sentiment and seeming only saving grace was from the proverbial mother advising her girl to be kind to the nerds, since they will be rich one day.

Thankfully, our progressive society has cultivated a more enlightened perspective on the formerly beleaguered nerd.  New definitions have popped up, some I much prefer over others. This picture is my most favorite definition.  I find it to be inspiringly beautiful and liberating.  Fantastic, yes?

I have to say, my entire family is a collection of nerds.  Our bookshelves and DVD collections would betray us if we were ever trying to mask it.  Our shelves sag under books exploring apologetics, science fiction, fantasy and trivia. We own every superhero movie ever made (well, maybe not, but it sure seems like it).  My daughter has had to devise a new laugh just to express her near inexpressible joy at her various ‘nonsocial hobbies and pursuits.’  My son practically vibrates when he can nitpick the techno-babble of his favorite shows.  An example is when, in episode 4 of Doctor Who, “Aliens of London,” news crews announce a crashed UFO, my son is quick to point out that the ship is in fact identified, and very much not flying, so it is pretty much just an O.  This tickles him to no end.

I posted on Facebook earlier this week how my husband and kids got into a rather detailed discussion about the differences between zombies and mummies.  Much to my surprise, my sister and niece both popped in to enhance the conversation!  I can’t escape! 

But, when I look at it from the perspective of the quote above, I must wonder. What could be better than being surrounded by nerds?  I want to be enthusiastic about life!  How boring to be too cool to really get into the things that might excite you.  With that as an alternative, give me a life-full of nerds any day!

Bucket List

Our bucket list is not something we have given a whole lot of thought.  But the thought that we have given has been fun.  I rmember the first time I heard the phrase kicked the bucket.  I was at my grandparents’ house visiting my dad’s family and we were watching It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.  My dad had to explain it all to me.  Fast forward a few decades and I got to watch The Bucket List with my husband.  Now making bucket lists of our own seem like the next fun step.  I tend toward the serious, but enjoyed the lightheartedness of this activity with our family. I wrote these as they were called out.

I want to go to a play
Madi wants to go to Paris
Max wants to write a book
I want to travel the US
Brian wants to star in a play
Madi wants to be a famous dancer
Madi wants to own a zoo
I want to run a race
Madi wants to write a play and perform in it
Madi wants three children
Brian wants at least four grand kids
I want chickens
Madi wants to shoot a gun and bow
Brian wants to hang-glide
Brian wants to go to Hawaii
Max wants to be on a silly game show
Brian wants to be on a silly game show
Madi wants to go on amazing race
Madi wants to hang glide
Madi wants to sky dive
Madi wants to bungee jump
Madi wants to own a lot of pets

Cussing

My sweet girl has a friend who cusses.  She asked what I thought about it.  This isn’t the first time we have talked about this particular topic.  In fact, I remember when my kids were little wee things and they were playing a game of Go Fish together.  My darling angel girl at a whole two years old was sweetly repeating the same phrase each time she had to go, fish.  We kept listening to try to figure out what she was saying when, in horror, we realized she was practically chirping, ‘damn it.’  What?!?!  Why?  Who says that?  And so began our first sit-down together.

We have talked about all the whys of cussing.  And we have underlined our emphatic desire that they never react to someone else cussing.  Our basic stance is that we prefer to keep their mouths clean (the Bible teaches us to not use coarse language and we have friends who are deeply offended by it) but we want them authentic.  Don't put on a mask just to avoid getting caught by us.  If they want to say a ‘bad’ word, however, they will face any and all consequences, including anything that may come their way from the parents of friends. If they are old enough to choose offensive words, then they have to be old enough to deal with the responses.

I cuss.
I'm not supposed to.
But I do.
Sometimes I cuss in anger.  Sometimes I cuss because I think the word actually receives less power and attention than what we give it when we perform acrobatics to convey the word without actually saying it. Sometimes that becomes ridiculously silly and I prefer to avoid it.  Sometimes I cuss because it is the vocabulary word that best expresses my meaning.

 

Matthew 12:25, 36, 37 NASB

"And knowing their thoughts Jesus said to them, "Any kingdom divided against itself is laid waste; and any city or house divided against itself will not stand. But I tell you that every careless word that people speak, they shall give an accounting for it in the day of judgment. For by your words you will be justified, and by your words you will be condemned.""

That’s certainly something to think about.  I don’t know that it refers only to cuss words.  I think our more careless words are ones that are of the dismissive or gossip variety. We will be accountable for these.

Then there is this.  I am reading a book called The Twenty-Piece Shuffle: Why the Poor and Rich Need Each Other by Greg Paul.  In it he tells about his church.  He belongs to a church that includes homeless and addicts along with the wealthy and middle class.  He tells about one day when a new suburban couple came to visit.  The church meets in a circle and they were praying with the author positioned so he could see the faces of the new family and the tortured addict who was currently praying.  This man was pouring his heart out in anguish. At the end, he punctuated the prayer with an unprintable word.  The author shares how he watched the reactions of the new family. 

The adults kept heads bowed, eyes closed and faces serene.  The two little girls popped up heads, popped open eyes.  Seeing no other reactions in the gathering, they quickly resumed the ‘proper praying position.’  The author shares that he figured that was the last time they’d ever see that fine family.  Not so.  They are active members of that body and had been for three years when the author finally asked the lady if she remembered her first visit.  Of course she did.  And she remembered the man’s anguished prayer.  And she remembered that word he used.  What did she think?  She said she knew she was home!  From the book:

She continued on to speak of her deep hunger for “unmitigated reality”—the possibility of being thoroughly honest about her own internal needs and battles and of receiving the gift of such honesty from others. She longed to break bread and drink wine, she said, for true communion, the knowledge that “we”—some undefined group of pilgrims—were walking the same road in unity with each other, a unity found in and leading to Christ himself. Her middle-class (that is, wealthy) church and life experience, where every messy thing is so carefully contained, every surface so diligently polished, had left her with a sense of discontentment, of empty wandering. She wanted to get her hands on Jesus.

Maybe this is another reason why I cuss.  Because it is real.  If I think it, I say it.  I don’t advocate such an unfiltered life.  It is hard on relationships and very hard on one’s reputation.  People often don’t care to hear everything I am thinking.  But there are a cherished few who do.  They want to know, because they actually love me.  Not what I do, or how I am, but me.  All of me.  And they bother to journey this life towards Jesus with me.  Not polished and shined.  We have not arrived.  But striving and real.  So, sometimes I cuss…

You gotta Love Words!

For posterity.

Madi: Do you know what extraordinates me? Whenever I think of creation I think of my children's Bible because I used to read that story all the time. I loved the pictures so much. But now I know about cells and amino acids and organs and the cow's four stomachs and think how much God had to really make when he created the world. It isn't just the pictures that I like of birds flying and fishing jumping out of the sea. That is extraordinary.

There is nothing better than inventing new words. I invented one myself yesterday when my daughter was teasing me about being afraid of the dentist.  I told her that I am not afraid.  It is just sensible to avoid people in the business of causing others crippifying pain.  That is my new word. 

Speaking of words, I asked the kids what was the difference between disturbing and creepy. This is the answer I received:

Creepy is a ghost story. Sitting next to a naked guy is disturbing.

And a final fun with words inspired by my hilarious kids: Playwright or don’t play at all.

Happy Birthday, Jesus!

Merry Christmas!!  May your sights and hearts be lifted above this earth and life to the glory that is our Savior and the to the opportunity for a new life with Him that will never end. Amen!

Sick

Last Christmas we were sick and shoveling snow.  This year looks like we might squeak by and come out ‘oh for two.’ (I am not a sports person and this is the first time in my whole life I have ever tried actually writing that phrase.  I realize that I don’t know how to spell the ‘oh’ we use for the number zero.  Hmm…)

I actually enjoy shoveling snow.  Sadly, clear skies are forecasted for the whole week.  We have had picturesque snow on the ground for a few weeks, because of the eyeball-freezing tempuratures since the last snowfall.  Looks like we got a thaw just in time to have a brown, muddy Christmas.  I don’t remember ol’ Bing singing anything dreamy about gloppy doggie prints on everything I own! 

For the other part of the score, the kids have had what I am calling a 36 hour fever.  Thankfully, as sick goes, it’s  not so rough.  No stomach issues other than loss of appetite (please pause to sing the Hallelujah chorus from Handel’s Messiah with me), no wracking cough, no stuffy heads. Both kids more or less slept for two nights and a day, and had a recovery day of lounging. I am truly thankful for these blessings.

The nice thing about sick is the forced slow-down to our schedule.  We have some pretty phenomenal friends and I love spending time with them.  Our calendar can get pretty packed without much effort.  Being on lock-down gives us a chance to reconnect as family, serve one another when we are weak and take the time to rest.  I don’t ever like missing the neat things we had planned, but I am almost always appreciative for the restorative time together.

Hopefully, my husband and I will be spared this particular infection, our doggie will continue to get back to normal (the surprising wet spots on the carpet are getting super old) and we can have a very merry, healthy Christmas! 

Family Traditions

We have some family traditions to help us stay focused on Christ during the Advent season. Some evolved over time, initially happening either by chance or without any regularity, but over the years they have just come to be cherished activities our family anticipates each December.  Other traditions we have established more thoughtfully and with more purpose.  And some on this list are new-to-us traditions.  I’d love to hear from you about the things you do that acknowledge this special time of year.

Most of these are pretty inexpensive and not too time consuming.  Feel free to try some out for your own family.

 

Read Jotham’s Journey	Make and Send Christmas Cards	Donate the Christmas Coin Jar	Go Christmas Caroling	Make a Blessings Poster
Do a Random Act of Kindness	Make Christmas Ornaments	Bake for the Christmas Tree Lighting on Main Street	Decorate the House	Watch Charlie Brown Christmas
Make a Christmas Dinner with Friends	Watch the Grinch with Jim Carrey	Make Paper Snow Flakes	Write a Letter to Family Members	Watch The Santa Clause Movies
Make a Birthday Cake for Jesus	Have an Advent Wreathe	Go See Christmas Lights	Watch the Polar Express	Watch The Very First Noel
Family Game Night	Make a Pinecone Bird Feeder	Special Christmas Breakfast	Make Marshmallow Snowmen	Make Snowmen Pizza
Put on a Play	Christmas PJs	Play the Stocking Game	Make a Christmas Cookie Tree	Find New Christmas Music
Make a Countdown Garland of Green and Red Paper	Make a Christmas Craft	Bring Goodies to Fire, Police and Hospital Workers	Buy gifts through World Vision	Make Popcorn Garlands for the birds

Little Green Men…or Grey, if you are so inclined

Somehow during school we got to talking about aliens.  So the question came up. Are there aliens? This led to the next question. Does it even matter?

The world is so big. The distance between planets, solar systems, galaxies. We are just little dots in both a time and a space that seem infinite. Does that make us insignificant?  If course not!  We were made to be in relationship with the One Who made us. That is all that matters. So what if we are the only beings on the only planet orbiting the only sun?  So what if there are countless species of aliens on countless planets and moons across vast stretches of space—or even countless universes?  We can be at the center of the universe or in a tiny pocket that the universe has forgotten. None of that matters when we are face to face with the love of our lives.

What seems to matter is from where we get our identity.  Is it about being in the center?  Being the biggest?   The first? If so, then you can feel pretty unimportant when you compare yourself to all creation.  If, however, you know your identity is connected to your Creator, then however much else He chooses to create has nothing to do with your worth.  He said you were worth the Blood of His Son.  What more needs to be said?

When we got married, my husband asked what we would do if I were to realize I were homo- or bisexual--we are weird and have conversations like that, ok?  My answer was simple: who cares?  Would it be ok for me to cheat on my husband with a man?  No. So how would it be ok for me to fool around with a woman? I am face to face with Brian, my husband, for whom I vowed to forsake all others. All others.

The same is true with God. No number of aliens--even zero--will change my purpose in life. I was made to love and glorify Him. My place is secure.

Reactions

Check me out getting all hot-topic political!  Actually, I won’t bother with my views on the subject at hand.  I have discussed it plenty of times before with people all over the spectrum and it is safe to say that I offend them all and stand alone.

So, what am I going to talk about? Phil.

Meet Phil. Redneck. Hunter. Backwoodsman. Conservative Christian. Beard-growing maniac. I’m talking about Phil Robertson known by the famed Duck Dynasty reality TV show.  If you hadn’t heard of him before, surely you have by now.

He was recently interviewed by GQ magazine.  (Apparently the ruckus is about a few words he said regarding homosexuality and sin, and not the profanity-laced editorializing of the interviewer.  Go figure.) He has been let go from the show as a result of what he said in the interview. 

This was Phil's response to being let go! Robertson has issued a statement in response: "I myself am a product of the 60s; I centered my life around sex, drugs and rock and roll until I hit rock bottom and accepted Jesus as my Savior. My mission today is to go forth and tell people about why I follow Christ and also what the bible teaches, and part of that teaching is that women and men are meant to be together.

"However, I would never treat anyone with disrespect just because they are different from me. We are all created by the Almighty and like Him, I love all of humanity. We would all be better off if we loved God and loved each other."

I have to ask a question here.  Are we surprised he thinks homosexual acts are a sin??  Really?
He is an individual. That's why we like watching him. No one thinks A&E agrees with his every opinion. His own family members don't agree with his every opinion. So what is the harm of his sharing his opinion on homosexuality honestly and maybe un-popularly?  Who cares, really, that a man who was born, lives and will die in the swamps of Louisiana thinks homosexuals are sinning?
But A&E decided to choose divisiveness. They divided the patriarch of the family, business and show from the show. And not quietly!  To cover their butts?  I don't think so, for a few reasons.  For starters, the interview had nothing to do with A&E.  Furthermore, the author of the article commends the network for editing the show to keep it apolitical. A&E’s butt is simply not exposed for it to find need to cover it.  And finally, watch what happens next, and keep in mind that A&E is in the business of entertainment and publicity.

 
The conservative Christians react:  freedom of speech!  Rally behind the good family man! Speak the truth!  Rail against A&E, Hollywood and all American society! People preach tolerance until it is an opinion that goes against the liberal agenda. We cry foul!  What about our founding fathers? We cry hypocrisy!
The liberals react: here we go again with all the hateful hate talk!  Talk about hypocrisy! For a god of love, his people sure are hateful!  How can you cry about freedom? You fuss because we are only asking that you keep a civil tongue in your head. Ironic that you want freedom when all you desire is to take away my freedom to live my own life in honesty. You are upset because you can't speak your hate when all I want is the freedom to express my love!

Oi!  Haven't we had this conversation once or twice before? 

Meanwhile, Duck Dynasty is getting more publicity than they could have ever generated without A&E triggering this Rube Goldman machine of hatred where the parts are human beings.
What upsets me is that so many lined up like good little dominoes and played their parts with beautiful predictability. Did anyone bother to ask what the final goal is?  Nope. 

This isn’t an honest discussion of the issue.  Phil Robertson isn’t being victimized.  He knows public opinion is fickle and the show won’t last beyond too many years.  He lives a life with a final goal to share the Gospel, not to serve ratings.  He doesn’t depend on the show for livelihood and certainly doesn’t live for public opinion.  So he doesn’t need ‘defending.’  Gay people haven’t been harmed.  Phil didn't  say anything that is earth shattering and he wasn’t speaking to people whose minds will be changed based on his words alone.  Let me reiterate this.  Phil is fine!  He wasn’t jailed, fined, beaten or threatened. 

Doesn’t this beg the question? What are we defending Phil from?  Why does he need defense?  If we can calm down and look at this fairly, it may save us from becoming caricatures of Christianity.  Either Phil said something wrong, and he should apologize and take his ‘punishment’ humbly.  Or he obeyed the prompting of the Holy Spirit and the Holy Spirit will advocate for him (and he should remain humble).  Right?  Do we believe in this God, or not?  Do we need to make it right?  Where exactly were we instructed to speak the truth and then control the reactions of the listeners?

John 15 says this:

¹⁸ “If the world hates you, you know that it has hated Me before it hated you. ¹⁹ If you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, because of this the world hates you. ²⁰ Remember the word that I said to you, ‘A slave is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted Me, they will also persecute you; if they kept My word, they will keep yours also. ²¹ But all these things they will do to you for My name’s sake, because they do not know the One who sent Me. ²² If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have sin, but now they have no excuse for their sin. ²³ He who hates Me hates My Father also. ²⁴ If I had not done among them the works which no one else did, they would not have ^[g]sin; but now they have both seen and hated Me and My Father as well. ²⁵ But they have done this to fulfill the word that is written in their Law, ‘They hated Me without a cause.’

We aren’t supposed to rely on this world for justice.  We aren’t supposed to find love in this world.  We are supposed to bring the love.  Please read that last bit of verse 25 again.  “They hated Me without a cause (emphasis mine).”  When we strive to be like Christ, we cannot give cause for the hatred we may receive.  Phil did his part.  Let us trust God to do His, now.

Let’s review.  One guy said something that fell squarely on one side of a divisive issue.  That is how it started and should have ended.  But it didn’t.  He got suspended; his wrist publicly slapped.  That is actually what started the frenzy. 

Now we need to be critical thinkers.  Who started it and what is the desired result? A&E gets free publicity from both sides of the issue and happily pockets their money. A&E are the pot stir-ers, capitalizing on manipulating people to react so predictably.  Let’s not be part of the problem.  Let’s remember that Phil is fine!  Let’s remember that people are watching. 
We need to engage our minds and tap into compassion to stop the chain reaction of reactions. Let’s not make this bigger than it is.  It is one man, leading one family and speaking what he believes.  You believe differently? Go home and hug your kids.  Tell them the truth of love as you see it. 

(You may choose to point out that I hopped on the bandwagon and helped with the free publicity, but only three people read my blog, so I think I am pretty safe!)

Now, if you still have some righteous indignation and a godly thirst for justice, see what you can do to help people who are actually being persecuted and whose God-given freedoms are in serious jeopardy.  Mission India is sharing the Gospel, teaching people to read, write and do math at a fifth grade level, empowering people to support themselves, planting churches and bringing encouragement and support to the downtrodden.  And they are getting beaten up, their houses are being burned down and their lives are being threatened.  If you think it is wrong to victimize an American millionaire by suspending him in what could only be described as a publicity stunt, what do you think of this?  Families striving to get by one day at a time, traveling miles just to get the day’s water, which may or may not be clean.

Perhaps there is a godly fire in you that desires to take action and spread good over the world, but it got misdirected.  That’s ok.  Adjust your target, and start moving forward.  Pray, donate money and research how else you may make an amazing difference in the physical and spiritual lives of countless people living in the shadow of death.

  Sponsor a child or give a meaningful gift this Christmas that can bless a family into the coming year. Support World Vision.

 

 

Pray for the workers in India, pay for children to go to Bible classes and adults to go literacy classes. Support Mission India.

 

Help improve maternal/child health and maternity outcomes through education and service. Support Midwives on Missions of Service.

 

 

Stop human trafficking by lending your support to the A21 Campaign. 

Protect those most vulnerable, those who need your advocacy, whose rights to basic freedom have been completely stripped away.  Support Voice Today to end child sexual abuse. 

Help homeschooling families who have suffered devastating loss due a variety of tragedies.  Support the Homeschool Foundation.

 

If none of these float your boat, find something that does.  There are plenty of people working to bring health, rights and truth to this broken world.  Cancer research, patient support, elder care, support for first responders, loving families of deployed soldiers, Bible interpreters, missionaries, Habitat for Humanity, local food banks, local shelters, children’s hospitals.  Be part of the good.  There is no shortage of need.  If Christians would each dedicate the smallest fraction of our money and time to serving these needs, no one would be tolerated for saying all we do is spout hate and hypocrisy.  Be blameless, my dear Family.

And if you are still a big fan of the Robertson family, as my own family is, reread his response.  He wants people to love God and love each other.  Honor his wishes and spread the love.

Happy Anniversary to Us

Today is a special day.  Two years ago this day we moved into our current home!  We now live about five miles out—and about 900 feet up—of our little town.  At the time we moved, I had my sights on moving more like 90 miles from town.  Since where we live is just a tiny neighborhood off the beaten path and no one happens by here on accident, it was a workable compromise.

This house has been a true home to us that has offered a time of incubation, healing and renewal.  I came here pretty lost and broken.  As I look back, I marvel at the changes that have come into our lives since we first arrived. 

But the plan was that we would make that big move when the lease was up seven months from our move-in date.  So, to be celebrating our two year anniversary here is a bit surprising.

As I ponder things, I realize that maybe I shouldn’t be too surprised that we are still here.  My husband is a roots man.  When I was a kid living with my dad, we moved all the time.  After my parents divorced, we achieved more stability and moved just six times from the time I was 8 to 22.  When Brian and I got together, our first years mirrored my time with my dad; moving five times in less than five years.  I think that was harder on my husband than it was for me.  In his life, BC (before Cindy), he could count on one hand the number of moves in his whole life!  Wild! Or not.

We soon settled down and by the time we were in the same place for seven years, I was starting to go a little nuts.  While I can blame the economy, I can’t say that we would have moved even if money’d been falling from the sky.  My darling is a roots man.

We lost our home because of that economy after living there for 11 years.  My daughter and husband both got teary eyed each time we went to the old place to clean.  Not me; I felt that we were overdue and I was happy to move forward.   Brian actually accused me of not being sentimental, but that’s a digressive rabbit trail I’ll skip.

So here we are.  Two years.  Each July, when our lease is up, I anticipate a move—either in town or out.  For 2014, I’m embarrassed to make my normal nomadic noises.  I might become a running joke as we pass year after year in our hidden paradise.

Beautiful

I live in a beautiful area.  We are surrounded by gorgeous mountains and a sky beyond belief.  Check out the view from my back door at sunset.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not bad, eh??

First Entry!

Well, I am the least disciplined person I know, so I don't know if I will be able to keep this up. But I am trying not to quit before I start just for fear of failing. :) Diane says I am the consummate blogger because my kids are at the perfect age, doing funny things everyday. I can't argue about the kids!

I don't know if I should introduce myself, or if only people who already know me will be reading this.

So, I am married to Brian and we live in NE CA in the high desert area. I have two kids, Max and Madi.

We were getting in the car to pick up Brian at work. He'd been gone a couple of days, and as consolation, I had taken the kids to the Dollar Tree to get a little toy. Madi got a bear and was being very maternal with it. So, when it was time to pick up Daddy, Madi began to narrate to the bear about what we were doing.

She talks for the bear, of course, and it seems the bear was surprised that there was a family member she hadn't met yet. Madi was explaining that while it is true that there are homes with only one parent, this one had two: a mommy and a daddy. Other homes with only one usually are that way because of divorce or death. !!

At this point, Max interrupted her and tells her to stop. She asked why. He said, 'next you are going to start talking about orphans!'

She jumped on this and said, 'oh, yes! Then there are some kids called orphans and BOTH of their parents are dead.'

Max stops her again and clarifies, 'your bear is a baby, right?' She confirms that the bear is a cub. So he continues, 'then you need to protect her from those things!'

Madi retorts, 'it is REAL. It really happens. Divorce happens, death happens. I have to tell her the truth! Like when soldiers cut off hands of the enemy so they can count the dead bodies more easily.' (I can't even remember if I taught her that from the Bible or Greek History!!)

Max is exasperated. Madi is matter-of-fact. I turned on the radio so they wouldn't hear me laugh!

This reminded me so clearly of a time a couple of years ago when we needed to buy a new dishwasher. At the store there was the line of washers up along the side wall, arranged in order by price. Brian and I stood back in wonder as we watched our kids gravitate to opposite sides of the display line. Madi stood pressing herself from knee to cheek up against the most expensive model, caressing it and begging to get the 'so pretty' one. Max was down at the other end, fist on hip, finger wagging, 'Madi, that one is over one thousand dollars! This one is 200. We need to get this one!'

What is it called when you see ghosts of the future? lol

Anyhow, after we were home from picking up Brian, I got some time alone with Madi. I wanted to figure out some more about her ideas regarding teaching kids and divorce. So I asked her when was a good time to explain to children about divorce and death.

She answered so diplomatically, 'well every mom should be able to choose if they want to tell that stuff with the kids are toddlers, older or teenagers. It is the mom's choice.'

I saw that I needed to get more pointed. 'So, when do YOU think you will share that stuff with YOUR kids?' She said she wants to teach them young, as toddlers, because she wants to start school with them right away. I didn't push any more. I had more to explore.

I asked her if she thought she would ever get a divorce. She answered that she would if she chose the wrong guy! I asked her how she would know if he was the wrong guy. She said if he didn't want to spend time with the family or if he didn't like homeschooling.

I caught that one and ran with it. 'What will you do if your husband doesn't want you to homeschool?' She was quiet a long time. She got a little embarrassed and finally said that she would homeschool and get a new husband. lol

So, I grabbed her and we sat down on the couch together. I told her that her husband is more important than homeschooling, and if he wants her to put the kids in public school, she should do so cheerfully. She was so sad!! lol She said that she wanted to teach about God. I told her that she still could when they are home and that she would need to be in the classrooms with her kids, getting to know what is taught, the friends and parents and the teachers.

I think she was really surprised by all of this. I told her that it could be avoided if she talked with the man before they talked about marriage, and let mommy and daddy become friends with him. If we all found out that there were some important things he didn't agree on, then she could tell him that they were just going to be friends. That seemed to placate her a bit. :)

OH, I am so bummed!!! I started just pouring out memories, thinking I could copy and paste them somewhere else and them post them piecemeally here again, with proper subject lines. But it won't work!!!! So now here is this long ol' post no one will read. Grr..