Emmanuel

Emmanuel. The name for Jesus meaning "God with us." The perfect name to contemplate on Christmas Eve...

As a young woman, I felt alone. Misunderstood. Under-appreciated. I felt like no one really got me. I made some poor choices in a desperate attempt to find someone who would see my value, know me deeply, and love me fully.

I looked right past God.
               The God who sees me (Genesis 16:13).
                              The God who knows me (Psalm 139:1-18).
                                              The God who loves me (Isaiah 54:10).

The God who took on human form, who was born as a baby over 2000 years ago so He could experience our humanity and be fully with us.

Experiencing Emmanuel has changed my life. God is with me - I am never alone. I am fully known and fully loved.

Look! The virgin will conceive a child! She will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel, which means 'God is with us.'                       Matthew 1:23

The miracle of Christmas: the same God who was born as a baby in a stable long ago has been born in my heart and I will never be the same. Hallelujah! The King is here!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4I6-9HFyYE&feature=player_embedded (just one of my very favourite Christmas songs!)

A Re-do in the Real World

One of the things I love about the Empowered to Connect approach to parenting is the practice of giving my children the opportunity to "re-do" whatever it is they've done wrong. Rather than punish the wrong behaviour, we try to give the kids a chance to do it right so we can reinforce the correct behaviour and build muscle memory for that behaviour. It's a great strategy for ending discipline on a positive note, and for staying connected with my child throughout the correction. Or that's how it's supposed to work...

Truthfully? It's exhausting. It takes forever, and requires significantly more patience and perseverance than I possess. In a house with 3 pre-schoolers, most misbehaviour involves more than one child, so in addition to dealing with at least 1 perpetrator, I also need to soothe at least 1 victim. By the time everyone is calm (including me) and the various tales of woe have been heard, we then have to reconstruct the scene of the crime and walk everyone through a re-do. For the most part, they've all been willing participants! I generally give them their scripts and we perform our re-do and everyone goes back to playing and getting along. (For the moment.) The biggest deterrent to a successful re-do is me. I start out with good intentions, and the first few hours of the day go so smoothly I'm ready to call Michael and Amy Monroe and tell them to get a camera crew up here - surely they could use my example in their next teaching dvd! Then, sometime after the 3rd or 4th nuclear meltdown of the morning, and after I've unsuccessfully attempted to tidy up the toy room, wash some dishes, and do a load of laundry, I lose my motivation. I start to get frustrated because my day is not proceeding as I had expected. I am not crossing tasks off my to-do list. Brian is going to come home and there will be no discernible improvement to the chaotic condition of our home. And could we please go fifteen minutes without someone crying?!?!

Well, despite my frustration, the re-do routine is making baby steps towards becoming established. I'm becoming more accepting of unproductive days, reminding myself that the kids will suffer more from chronic anger and frustration than they will from chronic messiness. And I know that an intentional focus on maintaining a strong connection with my children will pay off in the long run.

A few weeks ago, however, my resolve was tested. Connecting while correcting is one thing at home; being out in public takes things to a whole new level! It was a Tuesday afternoon, and we had been at church for the whole morning. I had attended the ladies' Bible study while the kids were in their classes, and we were doing our usual walkabout after lunch. Being at church gives us lots of practice at "Sticking Together" - it's a great big, wide open space that practically begs kids to explore at high speed. Logan had already received a few reminders to stay close when he suddenly took off (followed by his sister, of course!). He wasn't exactly running away, he was just enjoying the freedom of running as far and as fast as he could. I knew I'd have to deal with him, but I wasn't too concerned - I figured he'd turn around eventually and I knew that he's familiar enough with the building to not get himself lost. Kolbie, however, was not as confident. He started wailing - a loud, frightened wail that bounced around that great big, wide open space... I grabbed his hand and started to move as quickly as I could without running myself. (I didn't want to spook Logan or give him the impression that it was a game of chase!) When they finally stopped and I caught up to them, I was annoyed, embarrassed, and generally frazzled. My first instinct was to scoop everyone up while speaking tensely at them through clenched teeth and get in the van and go home. Then it popped into my head that I should probably stay calm and do a re-do. I found myself at a fork in the road: follow my instincts and deal with the guilt and regret I'd feel for taking my embarrassment out on my kids, or do the right thing and forget about what other people might be thinking and walk the kids through a re-do?

Thankfully, I chose the re-do! I explained that running that far ahead was not okay, and that we were going to go back to where they'd started to take off and practice sticking together. They all agreed, Kolbie calmed down, and the re-do was fairly successful. From an outside perspective, it probably looked like Logan got away with misbehaving. From my perspective, it was a win-win. The behaviour was corrected, our connection was maintained, and we all got into the van content and at peace with each other. Experiences like this encourage me to keep going. On days when it seems like it would be so much easier if I could just inflict a prompt, painful punishment I remember that we all do better when I can stay calm and give them a second chance (or a 52nd chance, depending on the day!).

My resolve is also strengthened by the example of Jesus in John 21, where He leads Simon Peter through a re-do of sorts. On the night Jesus was crucified, Peter had denied his relationship with Jesus three times while standing beside a charcoal fire (John 18:17-18, 25-27). After His resurrection, Jesus appears to Peter and some of the other disciples. They are out fishing and Jesus builds a charcoal fire on the beach so they can have a fish fry.

     After breakfast Jesus asked Simon Peter, "Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?"
     "Yes, Lord," Peter replied, "you know I love you."
     "Then feed my lambs," Jesus told him.
     Jesus repeated the question: "Simon son of John, do you love me?"
     "Yes, Lord," Peter said, "you know I love you."
     "Then take care of my sheep," Jesus said.
     A third time he asked him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?"
     Peter was hurt that Jesus asked the question a third time. He said, "Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you."
     Jesus said, "Then feed my sheep."

~John 21:15-17 (NLT)

I love this! I love that Jesus restores Peter to relationship with Himself by giving him a chance to acknowledge his love for Jesus three times - one for every denial. I love that Jesus doesn't shame or belittle him for his weakness. And I love the trust that Peter demonstrates when he says, "You know that I love you." Clearly, he felt fully known and fully loved by Jesus. (Dr. Karyn Purvis, 2010, p. 42)

So I will persevere. I will remember that I have been given many second chances. And I will let the love of Jesus shine through me to my kids.

*For more information on the IDEAL response to misbehaviour, check out http://empoweredtoconnect.org/the-ideal-response-for-parents.

Works Cited

Dr. Karyn Purvis, with Michael & Amy Monroe (2010). Created to Connect. Empowered to Connect.

Dancing over Texas

A cloudless night
A nearly full moon
Flashes of light spark,
then fizzle
As moonlight dances on water.
Like fireworks on the ground
or a sparkler on a birthday cake -
An unexpected gift at 30,000 feet.
A ribbon of water is suddenly illuminated
as the moon flies over a winding creek,
then disappears just as suddenly.

My heart is filled with wonder, delight, peace...
"Fear not,"
God whispers to my soul,
"Let's play."
And I know -
this is where I'm meant to be.
Hope and joy cascade into gratitude,
overwhelming me with extravagant love.

The Good Parent...

What does it mean to be a good parent? This is something I've been thinking about a lot lately. I always assumed good parents would have good kids, but I'm starting to question this assumption. On one hand, I know that my kids are just like all other humans - capable of great love and beauty, but also able to bring a world of hurt and disappointment down on themselves and those who love them. On the other hand, I've found myself operating under the deeper assumption that if I do my job right, then my children will bear the evidence of all my hard work their entire lives. Right?! (Don't get me wrong - I do, and will always, believe that parents hold immense power and responsibility for how their children grow and develop - I'm just wondering if my underlying assumptions and motivations need adjustment!)

After all, people aren't puppets - if I wanted total control, I probably should have become a ventriloquist. It seems incredibly self-centered, now that I think about it... to believe that my children's behaviour is a reflection on me. As if my self-worth as a parent is dependent on their behaviour! Seems like a recipe for disaster. What happens when I apply this model to my own parents? They're quite wonderful folks, and they love me a lot. I consider them to be very good parents. My choices in my twenties, however, likely made them feel like complete failures. They're not.

And what about God? It's widely acknowledged that He is the only perfect parent, but how have His kids turned out? Throughout history, from the accounts of God's people in the bible to the lives of Christians today, we see spectacular examples of imperfection - deep character flaws leading to huge disasters. Do I think that God is a failure as a parent? Well, no... When I reflect on my own life, I see how God has always loved me, despite my failures. I see that He has redeemed my mistakes, and brought about great beauty through them. I see how my life has been restored, and realize that much of what I see now would not exist if I had not made the mistakes I did. Through it all, God has remained the same: loving, merciful, gracious, forgiving, and always guiding me to what's right and good.

So, back to my question. What does it mean to be a good parent? Perhaps it's not ultimately about my children's behaviour. Maybe MY behaviour is what I should use to define my success as a parent... Am I working to reflect the love and character of God to my children? Do I respond to their mistakes and failures with grace and forgiveness? Or am I allowing my feelings of success and self-worth to be determined by their actions, which are largely out of my control? Hmmm...

My "To Do" List, revised

I truly enjoy the feeling of accomplishment when I get to cross things off my "To Do" list. Sometimes I'm even tempted to put stuff like "shower" and "drink coffee" on it just so I can experience the thrill of achievement again!

As Brian and I have been preparing for our Empowered to Connect training, we've been enthusiastically trying out new strategies with the kids, and striving to be more consistent with all the stuff we already knew we should be doing but had gotten a little lazy with. The more I learn about the Empowered to Connect model, the more I realize how much I need to step up my game as a mom. And the more I wonder how I'm ever going to get the stuff on my "To Do" list done... So, I decided to re-think my list. Here's what I came up with.

1. Vacuum the house. Make eye contact and keep my facial expression soft and warm when my vacuuming is interrupted for the umpteenth time.
2. Grocery shopping. Keep my voice gentle and playful, especially when Logan is busy adding random items to the cart.
3. Do the dishes. Take advantage of all offers of "help" to have a little sensory fun with the kids and build relationships through teamwork and affectionate physical contact.
4. Play with the kids. When confronted with perceived misbehaviour, ask myself, "What need or want is driving this behaviour? How can I help my child practice the right behaviour?"
5. Remember to cut myself some slack, lean on God, make time to laugh, and celebrate my successes. None of this really comes naturally to me, so any and all improvements need a little pat on the back!

For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago.                   ~Ephesians 2:10

As I learn and grow and practice, practice, practice, I am being transformed. And I am overwhelmed with gratitude and joy for all the good things He has planned for me to do.

(For more info on what we're learning, visit http://empoweredtoconnect.org/)

Where were you on 9/11?

Every year around this time, I get the inevitable question, "Do you remember where you were on 9/11?" Usually I respond with my physical location, but today it occurred to me that I could answer that question very differently.

10 years ago, I was a hollow shell of myself... Desperate to extricate myself from a co-dependent, unhealthy relationship. Unable to see light at the end of a very dark tunnel. Aware that my actions and my deceit had deeply wounded those who loved me most. Feeling far from God and wondering if my life would ever regain its colour and joy. Certain that my actions had ensured a future of singleness since no one would want someone with this kind of past.

Today, I am being made whole. Firmly rooted in healthy relationships free from secrets. Able to enjoy a life filled with light and colour and joy. Feeling close to God and filled with wonder at the fact that I was given this second chance. Grateful that my past does not define me, or doom me to a miserable present.

This year, when I reflect on the tragic events of September 11, 2001, I will remember those who lost their lives. I will also take time to thank God for the new life He has given me since that day. I will remember where I once was, and give praise to my Creator for lavishing His love and grace on me.

But God is so rich in mercy, and he loved us so much, that even though we were dead because of our sins, he gave us life when he raised Christ from the dead. (It is only by God's grace that you have been saved!)                        ~Ephesians 2:4,5

Matrix Moments

I've been thinking about this blog post for weeks (where has the month of August gone, exactly?!), and I decided to re-read my previous posts to make sure I'm not getting too repetitive! I discovered a definite theme - it seems that we're building up to something big. And I think we're starting to get a bit of clarity as to what that might be!

Clarity is a tricky thing. For years, we've had a burden on our hearts for older children in the foster care system who are waiting for a family of their own. Over the last few months, we've both felt certain that this is something we are still supposed to do. At the same time, we've been meeting with a number of like-minded people. People who feel certain that something needs to be done for these kids so that they can experience the love and security of belonging to a family... We are so incredibly excited to be a part of this!

So where does The Matrix come in? Well, we've noticed that any time we start thinking about doing something big and risky and scary and exciting, there is a force at work enticing us to maintain the status quo. It's as if we've lived in a comfortable, safe reality for most of our lives, and we are starting to want to live with our eyes open to a reality that includes a lot of hurt, heartache, and discomfort. Our safe, comfortable reality is not easily overthrown, however. We are often plagued by self-doubt - whenever I lose my patience with one of the kids I think, "Who am I kidding?! Can I really handle another one?!" We are fighting the temptation to embrace a certain lifestyle - "What about vacations to Disneyland? Pedicures? How much are we going to have to sacrifice?!" Really, we're caught between 2 conflicting worldviews - one that teaches that the best thing we can do for our kids is strive for a certain standard of living. The other teaches that true joy and fulfillment can come only when we stop living solely for ourselves and our own comfort, and start to live with eyes and hearts wide open to a world that desperately needs love and grace and second chances...

The movie analogy has its limitations. In The Matrix, once a character chose to throw off the matrix and live in "reality" that was all they saw. They could make trips back into the world as they once knew it, but they remained committed to living in the true reality. Life for us is more complicated: we have to train our eyes to view the world differently. We have to continue to live in one reality while maintaining our awareness of another reality. Not always easy to do.

Jesus was aware of this tension. In John 17, Jesus prays for his disciples. In fact, he prays for all of us who consider ourselves his followers (verse 20). He acknowledges that his followers "do not belong to this world any more than I do" (verse 16). He prays for unity and love and protection for us as we live a life that shows God's love to the world.

If that's our calling, then bring it on! We'll continue to fight through the self-doubt and the seduction of our culture. We'll embrace opportunities to step into uncomfortable situations if it means that a hurting heart will experience God's love. And we'll strive for continued clarity as we figure out exactly how God is going to use us to make a difference in the lives of kids in our world.

Me do it!

I waste a lot of time trying to do things for my two year old. I'm usually in a hurry and since she's only 2 it takes her longer to do things than I'd like so I try to do them for her. Inevitably, I end up standing there waiting while she re-does whatever I just tried to do for her. And the whole time she's shaking her finger at me and lecturing me: "Me do it next time, Mommy. Me do it!" Sometimes I remember to let her try it on her own and step in only when she asks for help, but since I'm still working on the whole patience thing, often I try to help her along. I'm trying to teach her that it's okay to let people do things for you once in a while, that sometimes you're not tall enough or strong enough or quick enough and it's okay to admit it.

Last night Brian and I were watching this documentary about a paraplegic climbing Mount Kilimanjaro. He reminded me of Rylie because he was absolutely determined to do it all on his own. In fact, he almost gave up when he reached a rock field because there was no way he could get over it unless he was carried, and this would have meant that he had failed to achieve his goal. Thankfully he recognized that being carried does not mean you've failed, it merely means that you're human, and every now and then we all come across a stretch that we simply cannot navigate on our own.

I think most of us like to be seen as competent, self-sufficient individuals. I know I do! I've often thought that my plunge into motherhood was exactly what I needed to expose my limitations and force me to rely on God for the strength, patience, wisdom and love I need to get through each day. People often wonder how we managed so many kids so quickly. As much as I'd like to pretend that I'm superhuman, I have to acknowledge that God carries us. A lot! And I believe that being carried by the all powerful God of the universe beats trying to do it all on my own. Why struggle to maintain the self-sufficient facade when God is waiting, with unlimited power, for me to ask for whatever I need?

"For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength."  Philippians 4:13

"But those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not faint."  Isaiah 40:31

Embracing Discomfort

I finally got the wading pool out for the kids yesterday. They were so happy! Feeling fairly self-satisfied, I pulled up a chair and prepared to relax and watch them have fun. I use the term "relax" quite loosely, of course. I did get out of my chair to break up the occasional squabble, make lunch, get towels, put Rylie down for her nap, and run in and out of the house on innumerable errands. All things considered, though, I was doing a fair bit of sitting. It didn't take long for Kolbie to want more than my passive participation. He started by asking, "You coming in pool too, Mommy?" I explained that since I didn't have a swimsuit on, I wouldn't. This satisfied him for a while, but then he started making comments about how much fun he was having, and how I should try it too. Apparently kids don't have an understanding of spectator sports. Before I could formulate a decent excuse, he was pleading, "Come in the pool, Mommy, please please please?!" It occurred to me that one doesn't really require a swimsuit to step into a kids' wading pool, and that I could probably suck it up and walk around in there for a while. I started to take off my flip flops and commented that they should make room - 3 kids and an assortment of buckets and shovels can fill up a wading pool. Kolbie immediately began shoving toys out of the way. At this point, I was starting to feel a little humbled. Then he noticed that I was hesitating and started to brush all the bits of grass in the water out of my way as well. Feeling more than humbled, I stepped in and walked around a bit.

I've realized that I often decline (or grudgingly accept) these types of invitations from the kids because I'm unwilling to experience discomfort. And yet, I firmly believe that God's best plans for us involve a whole lot of discomfort at times. If we're serious about experiencing the grand adventures God has in mind for us, then we'll have to do more than dip our toes into a wading pool. We might just have to throw ourselves bravely into a raging river. So if I can't even splash around with the kids for a few minutes, how am I going to handle real discomfort when it comes my way? If, as Pastor Scott likes to say, every decision determines our destiny, then I need to take advantage of these opportunities to embrace discomfort.

Lately, Brian and I have been feeling a stirring in our hearts, as though God is calling us to be a part of something really big. Something totally beyond ourselves and out of our comfort zones. We're quite excited and more than a little apprehensive! We don't know yet exactly what it will be, but we want to be ready when that clarity comes. And I have a feeling that part of my preparation involves setting aside my desire for comfort and jumping into murky water once in a while. It's time to "live a life worthy of the calling I have received"! (Ephesians 4:1)

A Potty Training Analogy

Much of the last 18 months has been spent potty training our 3 kids. While I do feel fairly experienced at potty training, I do not feel like an expert! Because the kids are so close in age, the youngest 2 trained despite my best efforts - they mostly learned from each other. (In other words, don't ask me for advice... it's been a bit of a whirlwind and I honestly have a hard time explaining how it all happened!)

Early on, I was struck by the observation that I am not that much different than a potty training toddler at times. This observation was sparked when I caught myself thinking things like, "They know what to do, so why don't they do it?!" and "It's so frustrating - why don't they realize how much more freedom they'll have this way and how much better life will be for them??" I realized that the same could often be said of me. So often I know what I should be doing but I don't do it. I know that I need to exercise more, eat less junk food and more fruits and vegetables, and go to bed earlier. I know that I should procrastinate less and keep my stuff more organized. The list could go on and on, which is tempting because I do like making lists... part of the procrastination thing, I guess! Last week, while I was going through stuff for the garage sale, I came across a journal entry from 2003. I had written about the conviction that I needed to spend quiet time with God every day. I wrote about the need for a distinction to be made between physical rest and spiritual rest, and how even if I got adequate sleep at night I would still feel exhausted if I wasn't replenishing my spirit. I read this journal entry and had to shake my head at myself. Eight years later and I'm still working on this one! It is only in recent months that I have finally started getting up early to spend time with God, and this is only because I was desperate - I found myself in the midst of a very busy season and knew I would not be able to cope unless I took drastic measures. It has made an incredible difference in how I've been handling things, so why does it take so long to figure stuff like this out? Why is it that we so often have to get to the end of ourselves before the necessary changes are made?!

I am reassured to know that I'm in good company on this one. In Romans 7:15, 18 and 19, Paul writes, "I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do... I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing." I'm so glad I'm not the only one! But why do so many of us struggle with this stuff? I think part of the reason is that if it was easy to be perfect, we'd be consumed with pride and arrogance (and, therefore, far from perfect...). I think that once we realize we can't do it on our own we are in the right spot for God's power to be unleashed, and that's the only way true and lasting change will happen. For me, willpower and determination only last for so long. It is only when I acknowledge my dependence on God's power that I see results.

So, here's hoping I have learned my lesson and stop being content to live anything less than the abundant life to which I've been called. And when I do forget to be a big girl, I will remember that God has everything I need to help me grow up and do what needs to be done!

Waving the White Flag

Our parenthood journey has involved a fair bit of uncertainty. The adoption application process seemed unending at times, and had no set timeline. Even after we were approved as adoptive applicants, we still had to wait for a match. Then there was the legal risk aspect to our kids' adoptions, meaning that we had no guarantees they'd be able to stay with us after they'd been placed in our home. I have never been a big fan of anything open-ended, vague, or uncertain, so this has been a stretch for me. Many times I have been tempted to (and/or guilty of!) taking matters into my own hands in order to bring stability and certainty back into my life. My favourite example of this is when Brian jokes that even though his hands are on the wheel, I'm actually driving the van. :)

During the time we were waiting for our home study to be completed and a match to be made, I was reminded often of the story of Sarah, a kindred spirit. (See Genesis 16 and surrounding chapters.) She knew that God had promised her husband a son, but she grew tired of waiting. In my mind, this is very understandable. She was well past her child-bearing years and I totally get how she could find herself in a place where she'd want to try something drastic. So, since there was a custom which involved using a maidservant as a surrogate mother, that's what she did. And it resulted in a good deal of trouble and heartache. God used this story to remind me to wait for His timing since taking things into my own hands might end badly.

Lately, I've been dealing with uncertainty again. Fear has given birth to a desire to take control, and I'm being forced to trust God's plan and timing. I am being reminded that many (okay, MOST) things in life are not in my control. And when I remember to surrender my worries about the future to Him, I am filled with peace and calm.

A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, "Teacher, don't you care if we drown?"
He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, "Quiet! Be still!" Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.
He said to his disciples, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?" 
Mark 4:37-40

The One who commands the wind and the waves and has proven faithful time after time will calm the storm in my heart as I put my trust in Him.

Monkey Bars

Sometimes I am so proud of my kids, my heart swells with love and joy. I'm not talking about those self-centered proud moments, like those rare times when they're all holding hands and walking nicely across a parking lot and all I can think about is how competent I must seem as a mother... (These proud moments fade quickly when I catch myself, less than a half hour later, shouting across the yard for the 3rd time in 2 minutes, "Logan, if you throw sand one more time we're going inside!") No, I'm talking about the pride that comes from seeing them accomplish something they didn't think they could do. I feel this pride when I watch them perform daring physical feats on playground equipment.

As I've mentioned before, Kolbie has a fairly cautious personality. At the same time, he is quite competitive, so he often finds himself in a bit of a dilemma when we play at parks. He sees other kids doing all sorts of brave and exciting things, but when he tries them himself, he ends up chickening out and calling me to come rescue him. At least, that's what he used to do. Lately, he's been impressing my socks off. My favourite example is the curved ladder that starts off vertical and ends up horizontal. A few weeks ago, he would start up the ladder, get to the point where it became horizontal, and freeze, practically trembling in fear. At first, I would pluck him off but then I figured he needed to man up, so I changed my strategy. I would stand beside him and coach him up or down, but I wouldn't take him off. After at least a dozen false starts and slow backward descents, he started to get the hang of it. Pretty soon, I didn't even have to stand beside him! The funniest thing was how quickly he transformed from trembling fear to towering self-confidence. The first time he did it totally by himself, he turned to me and said, "I'm so good at this, Mommy!" Of course, I had to agree with him! Yesterday, he did it in flip flops.

I think what makes me so happy in these situations is watching him persevere through his fear. I know he feels afraid when he gets too high and starts to feel a little unsteady on his feet - I can see it in his eyes. What I love is that he tries it anyway. And when he succeeds, he does this funny little hoppy run that tells me he's feeling pretty darn good about the whole situation. So, I've been thinking a lot about fear. Have I ever let fear stop me from trying something? Definitely. I've also taken some pretty big risks and felt like a kid at the top of the play structure - full of the joy of being alive.

What I've learned from my monkey bar experiences with Kolbie is that I really do want the kids to take risks. I want them to feel confident enough to at least try things even though they seem really scary. I believe that if we're going to be a part of something truly great in this life, we'll have to take a risk or two. While my kids' safety is important to me, and I do shut down a ridiculous stunt now and then, I certainly do not encourage them to merely sit and observe other children at play when we go to a park. I want them to experience it! And I think God wants the same for us. Unless we step outside of our comfort zone once in a while, we'll never know the exhilaration of being a part of something beyond ourselves. And I believe God is right there with us, promising to pick us up if we fall, bind our wounds if we get hurt, and celebrate with great joy when we reach the top.

I love the story of Peter walking on water (Matthew 14:22-32). I love the fact that Peter became afraid after he was already doing it! So often I forget how great God is, and that His power has already accomplished such amazing things in my life, and I start to sink in a sea of discouragement and fear. As Jesus did with Peter, He will save us from our own lack of faith when we cry out to Him. The more often I step out onto that water, the more my trust in God's power grows, and the more excited I am to experience the exhilaration that comes from being a part of His great adventure.

"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." 

2 Timothy 1:7

Adoption: So much more than 'Plan B'

I've written briefly about our adoption journey before, but thought it might be insightful to give a bit more background. Adoption has always been something I've wanted to do. Well, ever since reading Anne of Green Gables, and watching Annie, and seeing a documentary on the plight of orphans in Romania... In fact, I was quite convinced that my parents should adopt a Romanian orphan, but apparently they didn't feel as sure as I did!! The conviction that adoption is a good thing to do remained with me as an adult. When I met Brian and our relationship turned to talk of marriage and kids, I was quite excited to find that his thoughts on adoption were similar to mine. We agreed that even if we were able to conceive children genetically related to us, we would still look into adoption. I'm telling you, if I hadn't already been smitten with him, this would have pushed me right over the edge!! As it turned out, pregnancy did not look likely for us, so we immediately began exploring our options. Again, we were both on the same page as we looked at the various types of adoption. International and private adoptions did not seem financially feasible, and we both felt that domestic government adoptions were, for the most part, often overlooked. The more we looked into it, the more we felt that we were being called to make a difference in the life of a child currently in foster care and desperate for a forever family.

Before I go any further, please let me clarify: I do not think that everyone should adopt, and I do not think that all infertile couples should abandon medical solutions in favour of adoption. It's not for everyone! It's messy and complicated and often tragic. All I'm saying is that we felt an undeniable call from God to go down this road. We are absolutely convinced that this is what we were meant to do.

This brings me to my main point. For us, adoption has become so much more than a solution for infertility and a way to build our family. As my mom pointed out, isn't that a somewhat selfish way to look at it?! When we went through our pre-adoption training with Child & Family Services, they reminded us often that the children are their primary clients. They are in the business of finding the right family for each child, and not the other way around. Brian and I were convinced that, with God's help, we could provide the love and security these children were so desperately looking for.

And that brings me to my next point. We are not any more special or talented than any other parents out there. A lot of people "ooh" and "ah" over how close our kids are in age, how quickly our family grew, and how busy we must be. They say things like, "I don't know how you do it! I could never do that!" I know these comments are meant as compliments, but I firmly believe that no one knows what they can do until they step up and try something a little bit beyond themselves. If we have been a part of something great, we have to give all the credit to God. All we did was obey His call on our lives. And trust me, even this obedience was tainted with impure motives at times. Did I start out on this journey looking for a way to fulfill my dreams of being a mother? Absolutely. Was I attracted by the relative speed and low cost associated with government adoptions? Yes. But God is faithful, and He has blessed our obedience despite our many weaknesses and imperfections.

The spiritual significance of adoption is the other piece that makes us so passionate about it. As children of God, we have been adopted into His family (Ephesians 1:4-6). In the Old Testament, you had to be a part of the nation of Israel in order to be considered a child of God. Now, in His great mercy and grace and through the work of Jesus Christ on the cross, anyone can become a child of God. And the Scriptures make it abundantly clear that there is no difference between any of us (Galatians 3:26-29). We share the same inheritance, and have the same status before God. Our spiritual adoption into God's family makes us even more excited about adopting children into our earthly family. We feel so blessed to be able to be a part of His work in the world and reflect His heart towards children who don't have the security of a permanent family.

Well, I think I've said most of what I wanted to say. (Brian would like to warn you that, with me, there's always more!) Hopefully this has helped you understand our journey a bit better. For us, adoption has become more than just 'Plan B', or second best, and we do not harbour any secret desires to have children genetically related to us. We can't imagine our family any other way! And we are so thrilled that God has called us to do some of the good that needs doing in our world.

Helicopter Parenting

I like predictability. I am also a big fan of structure, routine, and met expectations. I truly enjoy making to-do lists and checking off each task as I complete it. If I knew my husband wouldn't injure himself laughing at me, I'd probably even put things like "get out of bed" and "drink coffee" on my list - just to give myself a few more things to check off! I feel a deep sense of satisfaction when everything goes according to my plan... As my motherhood journey enters its fourth year, I am realizing more and more just how much I like to be in control.

When my kids were babies (and they were pretty much all babies at the same time), this was all good. Bedtimes, naptimes, eating times, pooping times - I was on top of it all. Not that I felt in control of it all the time, but I was there for it all. I knew what to feed them, when to feed them, when to put them to bed and when to change their diapers. And they couldn't really do too much about it - I was in control of every aspect of their little lives and, looking back, I think I liked that. They're not nearly so predictable and easy to manage now. And I have to fight the urge to hang on to my need to know everything about them at every moment in time.

While I have been aware of how easily I could become a helicopter mom (ie. always hovering) for some time, it all came to a head this past weekend. We were in Saskatoon to celebrate Easter with Brian's family, and I had been looking forward to the big family gathering with some anxiety. I felt that I simply could not be expected to let the kids play without being checked on for longer than a few minutes at a time, and this had been a source of conflict between me and Brian since Christmas. He felt that my inability to relax was hurting me and my relationships with others. We had discussed it a few times, but had not reached a consensus by the time we left on our trip. After much openness, a great deal of patience, and a wee bit of irrational logic, we had agreed on a plan by the time we arrived: I would do my best to relax, trusting the older cousins and our kids' lungs to alert me to trouble, and Brian would make an extra effort to check on the kids a little more frequently than he thought was absolutely necessary.

I'm happy to say, it worked like a charm! The kids had a blast running around with their cousins, no one got seriously hurt, and no property was damaged (as far as I know). I was even able to enjoy a game of Wizard - as much as one can enjoy a game one doesn't win...! And I learned a lot about myself through my discussion with Brian. Turns out I was motivated more by my own insecurity and need to be seen as a competent mother than by a reasonable concern for their safety. I'm certainly not cured of my desire to be in complete control; I think this whole process of letting go and deciding when they can handle a bit more freedom and independence will always be difficult. I think it will require a lot of wisdom and discernment, and more than a little prayer. I think I'll always be tempted to hover. But I've learned a couple of important lessons - one being that Brian is sometimes right!! The other - my babies can't soar if Mommy's blocking their airspace.

Sacrifices

Making sacrifices is something I've thought a lot about since becoming a mom. Our family grew quickly - we went from 2 to 5 in less than a year. The sacrifices were immediate and life-changing! Sleep was one of the first things to go, along with free time and spontaneity. Initially, we made these sacrifices willingly and with great joy. We were so very excited to welcome these beautiful babies into our home! Over time, however, I've noticed a tendency to let self-pity and resentment creep in. I have found myself easily frustrated when my plans are sabotaged and my "needs" go unmet. I remember being forced to abandon my attempts to do yoga one afternoon when Kolbie started throwing the foam bricks at me. It's pretty funny when I think about it now, but at the time I narrowly avoided bursting into tears. I felt overwhelmed but really, what a small sacrifice I was making!

With Easter weekend approaching, I've been thinking about the sacrifices Jesus made for us. I've been reminded that we are called to live and love as He did. In Philippians 2:5-11, Paul writes

Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:

Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death - even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

This certainly helps bring those little, daily sacrifices into perspective. I am called to have the same attitude as Jesus - an attitude of humility and servanthood. Motherhood provides daily opportunities to put the needs of others first! Instead of viewing these sacrifices as necessary aggravations that must be endured if I want to be a mom, I can view them as ways to fulfill my spiritual calling - a life of decreasing selfishness and increasing love. Suddenly I feel inspired - I want to do more than survive the pre-school years... I want to be the best person I can be. I want to emerge more like Christ, and less like the selfish little girl who felt like crying when her yoga plans fell apart!

This Easter weekend, I want to reflect on Christ's great love for me, and renew my determination to live out that love. I want to reclaim motherhood as a high calling, made noble and sacred as we identify ourselves with Christ through our sacrificial living.

Love and Bad Behaviour

When I started writing this post, I thought it was going to be a warm and fuzzy offering about how kids need to feel secure and loved so that they can face their world with confidence. I was going to draw an analogy to my own journey towards security and confidence, and how it all hinges on my soul-deep belief in God's unfailing love for me. Doesn't that sound nice?! Apparently, this was not to be the topic of today's post.

The boys started fighting with each other as soon as they woke up this morning. It seemed that every time I tried to get something done in a different room, the brawl continued as if there had never been a lull. Then I decided to get tough with Rylie - due in no small part to my frustration with the boys, I'm sure! First, I decided that today was a good day to start cutting back on her soother use... again. As if that wasn't enough, I threw in a little potty training - in the form of big girl underwear. She did all right for a while, and then, while I was confiscating the boys' Thomas trains because of the constant fighting, she puddled on the floor and started splashing in it with her hands. After all the necessary cleaning and unnecessary yelling were done, I started thinking about how I don't feel very loving towards my kids when they're behaving poorly. And really, that's when I need to work hardest at communicating my love, because there's nothing like the knowledge of your own shortcomings to cause you to feel insecure about how others feel about you. At least I'm assuming it works the same for the kids as it does for me. :) I want them to know that, no matter what, I'll always love them.

So how do I accomplish that on days like today? How do I discipline the behaviour while communicating my love for the person? How do I willingly, instead of grudgingly, give that post-time-out hug?? I can practice relaxation techniques and anger management strategies. I can reflect on my disasters and modify the way I do things next time. I can remind myself that love is so much more than an emotion and reaffirm my commitment to my kids by practicing more loving actions and words even when I'm not feeling loving. Ultimately though, I think it comes back to my initial thought - I need to be so rooted in God's love that I can't help but react in more mature and loving ways when those around me are behaving badly. After all, God never leaves us hanging, not matter how badly we've behaved. I only have to think of examples from the Bible such as King David and Paul to realize that God models a love that can't be snuffed out.

This morning, I came across the following verse, found in Zephaniah 3:17:

"The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing."

How I long for my kids to know that kind of love! To know that they are delighted in and rejoiced over... Come to think of it, I long to know that kind of love, too. I'm so glad I know a God who offers to love me no matter what. As the awareness of this love continues to dawn in my soul, I pray that it will radiate its warmth to those around me.

 

Unexpected Gifts

As a little girl, all I ever wanted to be was a wife and mother. I certainly had career ideas, but they were just things I could dabble in until Plan A was realized! Unfortunately, I made some poor choices in my twenties, and found myself in a very dark place - unsure how I would ever find my way to light, and quite certain that I would never be married or have children. I had no idea what God had in store for me! During this time, I found Joel 2:25, where God makes the following promise: "I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten." Hardly daring to believe that this could be true for me, I continued to pray for a family of my own. After rescuing me and setting me on the path to restoration, God blessed me with a terrific husband and 3 beautiful adopted children. Already, this was far more than I had any reason to expect!

What has taken me completely by surprise, however, are the little touches of grace He has woven into our kids' personalities. As an adoptive mom, there are certain things I know I will never experience. I will never know what it's like to carry a child in my womb, and I have come to terms with this. I will never be able to gaze at my babies' faces and see features they inherited from Brian or myself. Again, not something that bothers me, just something that pops up once in a while. So, when I started observing personality traits that seemed eerily familiar, I was surprised! Here are a few examples:

• Last summer, one of my aunts told me that Rylie's fearless approach to big animals reminded her of me when I was a young girl. Rylie also loves symmetry (like me), insisting on equal treatment for both sides of her body - if you kiss one of her hands, you must also kiss the other one!
• Kolbie has some "OCD" tendencies, reminding me of myself (he insists on peeling the little stringy bits of peel off bananas and the white stuff off of oranges, he appreciates the importance of wiping public toilet seats before use, he doesn't tolerate dirty hands for long, and is just very particular in general!).
• Logan enjoys clothes-free living, which reminds me of a story I heard about Brian streaking down a hospital corridor when he was quite young! (I've heard stories of when he was a bit older, but I'll leave those for another time!!)

I know a lot of these traits are common to a lot of people, but I also believe they are gifts from God, little touches of grace to show us that these children were meant to be with us. That when He formed them He already knew who their parents were going to be. I am unspeakably grateful for them, and even if they weren't anything like me, I would still adore them to pieces. The fact that they resemble us in so many ways fills my heart with wonder and delight! They are such unexpected and beautiful gifts, and I can't thank Him enough for entrusting them to us.

Making Mistakes

The other day I was confronted with the realization that I had caused my oldest boy, Kolbie, pain. And it wasn't just inadvertently scratching him with my fingernails when I helped him dress, either, it was real emotional suffering. Here's what happened...

Our children are adopted. All three of them share the same birthmother, and they have three birth siblings. We are incredibly blessed to have contact with two of the three siblings and their adoptive parents. Now, I've always been a fan of using correct terminology with kids, and being appropriately open with them about their origins as adopted kids. For the most part, I think this is a good strategy. They view their story as normal, and you avoid dropping big bombshells on them later in life when it could send them for a real tailspin. So, when we introduced our kids to their younger siblings, I always called them "baby brother" and "baby sister." During our last visit with the other adoptive family, however, I noticed that Kolbie was acting very strangely. Then he threw a pretty big fit over nothing shortly after we got home. I was discussing it with Brian that night and he suggested that maybe Kolbie was having a difficult time dealing with the existence of a brother and a sister who didn't live with him, and that maybe we shouldn't refer to them as his brother and sister. I immediately disagreed, but decided to google it anyway, just to see if maybe he was on to something. Sure enough, I found an article stating that until kids are about 9 years old, they're not ready for the concept of siblings who don't live with them. It started to make sense - Kolbie's a really sensitive/keep-your-feelings-bottled-up-inside kind of guy who takes his responsibility as a big brother pretty seriously. Now he has to deal with the fact that he has a younger brother and sister he can't look after.

By this point, I'm feeling pretty lousy. The poor guy! I'm fairly confident that we can recover, and minimise the emotional fallout, but it's gotten me to thinking - how do we deal with it when our kids suffer as a result of our decisions? I think it's pretty tempting to beat ourselves up a little, spend some time in the land of "If Only" and try to quickly fix our mistake, no matter the cost. (I almost drove to Chapters that night to buy all the adoption-themed picture books I've been meaning to buy so I could get back on the right track with how I was talking to the kids about adoption.) In reality, I'm sure that with a little time, a few conversations, and some tweaked vocabulary, we'll see a definite improvement in how he handles visits with the other adoptive family.

In the meantime, I'm going to have to come to terms with the fact that I'm not perfect. I'm going to make mistakes with the kids and inflict more emotional suffering on them. (I'm pretty sure I'll embarrass them a time or two when they're teenagers, which they'll consider emotional suffering!) When it happens, I will apologize to them and to God. I will forgive myself and try to learn from my mistakes. And I will remember that my perfect Heavenly Father loves my precious babies even more than I do, and rest in the knowledge that He's in the business of turning life's messes into things of beauty.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.             ~Ephesians 3:20,21

Praying for Patience

Ask anyone who prays, and they'll tell you - "Don't pray for patience, 'cuz you know what'll happen!!" Well, this morning I prayed for patience. And it happened - a 40 minute tantrum courtesy of my 4-year old. And I started wondering if it's true: does God answer prayers for patience by throwing really frustrating situations in our path?? I figured it that's the way it works, I won't be praying that prayer again anytime soon. Honestly, what I really want is for patience to magically manifest itself in me. I don't ever want to feel frustrated and impatient again... especially with my kids. But the more I thought about it, the more I began to realize that developing traits such as patience is a lot like getting physically fit. You have to work for it. There's going to be a bit of sweat, some pain, an early morning workout or two. Over time and with lots of practice, when I find myself in those situations that tempt me to give in to my frustration, I will start to sense a growing reserve of patience, a deep underground well of peace.

From a parent's perspective, it seems that this is actually a pretty decent answer to a prayer for patience. After all, we don't want to be the kind of parents who do our kids' homework for them, or automatically give them everything they think they need. We want them to develop the skills necessary to make it in the world. God is a good parent - He knows that if He just hands stuff over to us we'll start to feel all entitled and full of ourselves, and maybe we'll start to view Him as a genie in a bottle instead of the Creator of the world and the Ruler of the universe...

Maybe tomorrow I will pray for patience again. Maybe, instead of resenting the tantrums (and the messes, and the fights, and the endless questions) I should embrace them. Maybe it's time to view motherhood as boot camp for my character and let God answer my prayers. After all, the power that raised Christ from the dead is available to me in my quest for wholeness and holiness (Ephesians 1:18-20).

Time to go - I think I hear my personal trainers calling. Hopefully they didn't make a mess downstairs... oh, wait... hopefully they did. :)