Where the Present Touches Eternity

 

Image by AvodahImages.com

 

“We (the demons) want [man] to be in the maximum uncertainty, so that his mind will be filled with contradictory pictures of the future, every one of which arouses hope or fear. There is nothing like suspense and anxiety for barricading a himan’s mind against [God]. He want men to ce concentrated with what they do; our business is to keep them thinking about what will happen to them.” C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters

This present time and age rocks and churns with uncertainty. With each bomb exploded, each innocent child killed senselessly, each cry of anguish and pain that gathers like a cloud over and around us, it’s easy to feel lost. Beauty is marred and history now tainted.

How many more cities must erect a memorial in honor of the victims?

In times like this, we have to be careful not to wallow in the uncertainty of this present age. As Americans, we are a toddler nation still youthful in our page of history. The rest of the world is pitted and scarred with the darkness of evil, but beauty and goodness shine bright. Just visit the cathedrals that still stand in the Italian countryside, their centuries old paintings revealing beauty in ashes.

Look at the statues carved from stone and close your eyes and take in the brilliant, soul stirring symphonies of Mozart and Beethoven, Gershwin and Chopin. Read Pushkin and Akhmatova and get lost in the words of those brilliant poets who weave pictures with pen and paper that send color into the dark world.

Most of the great beauty in this world has risen from the heat of evil.

When the world gets dark and smoky, it’s easy to fall into cynicism. We wonder what kind of world we’re living, what kind of darkness our children will have to endure as they grow.

But we can also remember that these things, though shocking and revolting and vile and senseless, are not new and they are not the end of beauty or hope or joy or goodness. All you had to do was watch footage of the first responders to know that goodness wins. And really, without the ugly how would we ever know what beauty truly looked like?

 

Without evil, how could there possibly be good?

 

These last few months have rocked me to my core. They’ve tested my faith and pushed me down into the heap of ashes. I’ve lamented and cried over the child in the orphanage who may never know how much she was already loved – a child who could have had a home but now may never know the comfort and security of a family. I’ve wept bitterly over the children who could have known love.

I’ve looked hard at the darkness, the ability for man to make all of life into a giant mess, and I’ve wondered where the beauty lies in all of it. I’ve looked around and seen the world with new eyes and realized…we are all covered in ashes. And what are we to do with that?

We keep loving. We keep rushing forward into the dark and we be the light. We teach our children what it means to be the light. As for me, I am working on finding the beauty. I can’t focus on the darkness because there is no hope there and life without hope is life without beauty. I cannot  dwell on the fear of the future, the unknown and unfulfilled desires of the heart – instead I must trust that the only true impact I can have on this world is living fully right now, in this present moment.

“The humans live in time but our Enemy (God) destines them to eternity. He therefore, I believe, wants them to attend chiefly to two things, to eternity itself, and to that point of time which they call the Present. For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity.” C.S. Lewis, The Screwtape Letters

It sounds cliche and almost trite to say I’m praying for Boston today, but I am. I am praying for all the hurting hearts and the darkened souls. And I’m praying that today I will be ready to act – ready to be light, to show love, to speak well and bring out the beauty.

 Live for the Present friends. Let’s touch eternity together.

Easter Present and Past

Because you can always use one more dose of cute. And because it’s my blog and I’m feeling sentimental and my babies are growing up and oh dear…

I’m crying again.

I do that a lot these days. It’s like my life has turned into one giant Hallmark commercial. You died those Easter eggs on your own? sob! You can read this whole book by yourself? sob! You want a little sister? sob! You don’t need my help getting dressed?

Well…that’s kind of nice, I have to admit.

Oy vey. I’m a wreck. Ignore me while you look at these photos.

Easter 2009

Easter 2010 - Landon...I just can't stand it.

Easter 2011 - Again with all the Landon....

 

Easter 2012

Easter 2013

I'm sorry, but when did this kid grow up?!?!

And then there's this one. Handsome little devil...

 

How was your Easter, friends? Do you have the same problem I do – the problem of children who seem to be growing way too fast?

It’s a problem without a solution, unfortunately.

*sigh*

Monday Musings

Well hey there, friends ! How is everyone on this fine and lovely Monday morning? Me? I’m cold. Yes, I am. Apparently Mother Nature has gotten her geography mixed up and has dumped a bit of Midwest weather on my beloved Florida and I’m officially not a fan.

Of course, it’s supposed to be 88* on Thursday, so I can’t complain too much, but still… My feet are cold right now and in general cold weather clothing isn’t my favorite. I want to wear dresses and sandals so C’Mon Florida! Get it together!!

(Two exclamation points mean I’m super serious.)

I had a total OMG I’m a parent moment this weekend as we huddled under blankets on the bleachers at both boy’s baseball games. I remember my parents sitting on the sidelines of the soccer field when I was a kid, sipping coffee and hot chocolate and cheering me on through numb, frozen lips.

Except we lived in Wisconsin when I was a kid, so my parents definitely suffered more for the cause of parenthood. Northern parents get an extra jewel in their crown for frigid mornings on the sidelines.

Nevertheless, as I sipped my hot chocolate and cheered my boys on to baseball victory, I had to laugh. I’m a friggin’ parent! This is what parents do. Come rain or shine, hot or cold, we’re on the sidelines banging our hands together because the smile that comes across his lips when he hears you call his name is totally worth a little frostbite.

Plus hot chocolate tastes better at the ball park. Silver linings…you can always find them.

TRANSITION

I updated our adoption page this weekend. If you don’t mind, take a moment to hop on over there and check it out. God is good, friends. I’m still struggling with this place we’re in. I am on the verge of tears at any moment of the day so if you happen to call at one of the bad moments, I am so sorry!

But I know and believe my God is good. I believe that He loves the orphan more than I do and I believe that He has given me a heart for orphan care for a reason. Though He feels quiet and distant right now, I believe without a shadow of a doubt He is doing a good work that I cannot see or understand and when the time is right, He will reveal it.

I believe this and I am clinging to this belief.

I still wish He would send me an email, though. Gosh, that would make this easier.

TRANSITION

I’m sitting in Barnes and Noble right now as I write this post. I love book stores – even big, impersonal commercial ones like this. The books that surround me just smell of imagination. Sometimes I look at the shelves and imagine my own book sitting up there.

I don’t know if that will happen or not, but I have hope and dreaming is always fun.

Speaking of my book, Lee and I are heading to Naples this weekend. He has a conference to attend there for work and I’m tagging along because HELLO a weekend at the Waldorf Astoria in Naples, Florida?!

Lee told me the other day that he was afraid I’d be bored while he was working during the day. When I stopped laughing hysterically I assured him I would not be bored. I will be working on my book and when I’m not writing, I will be laying out by the pool reading a little Jane Austen.

“Bored” is not written anywhere on my to do list for the weekend.

And I mentioned that it’s supposed to be 88* this weekend, right?

CLOSING PARAGRAPH

Okay, friends. I think that’s enough chit chatting for today. I’ve got a few topics rolling around in my head, but I can’t seem to get them to translate onscreen yet. Lee and I are leading a study right now on the Character and Nature of God based on C.S. Lewis’s The Screwtape Letters. Well, to be clear, Lee is leading the study. I am setting snacks on the table for everyone who comes over.

We all have a part in life…

The Screwtape Letters is rocking me pretty significantly, especially right now with all that is happening in life. I want to share some of that with you.

Soon.

For now, I’m off to tap out a few more pages on The Novel which, by the way, I have titled. I love the title. I think it’s perfect. I hope I get to keep it.

Happy Monday, folks! Anyone have good news to share today? I would love to hear it.

Not Impressed

I’d like to go on record with saying that I am so far entirely unimpressed with the year 2013. Really, I’d be fine if we skipped it. Like an old hotel, I’d like to move straight from floor 12 to floor 14. Bell hop? Anyone?

It’s been a rough few days and I have the bags under my eyes, the twisted muscles in my neck and the knot in my stomach to prove it. I look at the calendar and I look to the heavens and I wait. Because things have to go up from here.

This morning, I flipped open my (in)courage daily inspirational calendar to this quote by Holly Gerth:

Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see. Hebrews 11:1

“I’ve always thought of those words in the context of believing in God…But that morning it seemed the One Who Loves us whispered that part of faith is also about believing that our obedience makes a difference – when we can’t see the results.”

The past few days were hard for more reasons than one. I talked my kids through the events that have transpired over the last few weeks and it broke my heart. I sat with my nine year old as anger and pain and doubt clouded his crystal blue eyes.

Why would God let this happen?”

“We have a good family and we want to love a little girl who needs a family. Why wouldn’t God let us love her?”

“Why do these bad things happen?”

“What’s going to happen to those kids in the orphanage?”

His questions were great. They were deep and real and honest and beautiful and I didn’t fully know how to answer them because I have the same questions. So I told him.

I told him everything I’ve been telling you and myself for the last ten months. Hope is slow. It’s so slow that sometimes we can’t see it.

I told him that God promises to be the Father to the fatherless and we have to believe with a faith beyond our sight that He is there with those children. We have to believe that they experience God in ways that we never will because He is all they have. We have to trust that He hasn’t forgotten the children – all the children – around the world who are waiting for love.

We have to believe and in this moment, we must build an altar for our kids. We must set a place for them to look back on and remember. We must guide them in this thing called faith that so often requires blind action.

Officially, our adoption is not yet terminated. There is still a thin thread of hope, but that thread gets dimmer each day. I feel like I’m preparing to lose a child. I imagine that this is much like it feels to miscarry. We haven’t given up hope entirely, but we are preparing ourselves to move on.

But can I share the miracles in this story of ours?

Friday, after I listened in on a call from the Department of State for adoptive families in process, I hung up the phone discouraged and defeated. I sat next to my husband and sobbed in his arms. In that moment I felt like it was over completely.

You see the thing is, I’ve always thought I would adopt a child from Russia. I’ve been waiting for so long for God to give us the signal to move forward, but I never once doubted that He would. It never occurred to me that I wouldn’t bring home a Russian child. Not once.

But Lee, my steady and wise husband, has a different vision. He has a passion for adoption…not just Russian adoption. To him, whether the child comes from Russia, India or America doesn’t matter. This brought me a lot of comfort, particularly because the idea of adoption was initially difficult for him to embrace. He had deep reservations, but in the course of this past six months, God has really opened up an excitement in Lee about the beauty of building a family through adoption.

Miracle.

Later that night, I sat down and opened an email from an old college friend who didn’t even know all that was going on inside my heart. This is part of what it said:

I’m writing to you because God has been sending me clear messages for you. I’ve been praying for you all and following along here and there on your journey. And every time I read one of your posts, I get an image of Christ riding in, like a soldier redeeming this situation for good. EVERY TIME you write something about the current situation in Russia or your heart breaking over the possibility of loss, the words “promise” and “redeemed” come flashing in my brain. I immediately get a sense of urgency to tell you that God will follow through on the promise He has given you. He is good. He has made a promise to you. He planted seeds so long ago in your heart for this country and for the people there. This horrible situation will be redeemed. His promises will be made known to all who know you and hear your cries.

She ended her message with a beautiful prayer that I have printed out and read over and over. Because I’m so heartbroken right now that I don’t know how to pray. But her prayer gives me the words to lay before the altar.

Miracle.

My heartache goes beyond the potentially failed adoption. There are other things mixed in that have worked together to form an emotional tsunami. But this one thing I know – God is good. He has not left the throne. Right now, I cling to the fact that our faith must be manifested in obedience. Like the quote mentioned above, we have embraced our faith through obedience and we are learning more and more each day about what it means to live courageously – even when the steps of faith don’t look like we thought they would.

We took a risk in moving forward with the adoption. It was a step of faith. It was obedience. And in our obedience God has worked miracles. I pray He’s not finished. I pray that the redmption of this story does include the completion of our adoption.

But I’ve no doubt that our family’s story is not finished yet. I believe my friend’s vision. I believe that God has redemption in store for us and we wait in expectation with hands held high. And when it is all said and done, no matter what the outcome may be, we will build an altar of remembrance.

We will look at our children (all four of them?) and we will point to these days and we will say, “Look, kids. Look at what God has done. He is faithful!”

Pray with us?

 

31 Days of Believing I Can

We sat in the airport in Amsterdam, all still basic strangers to one another. Having missed our connection, we had a full eight hours to sit in the food court, to have small fish eat the fungus off our toes and to develop a fast bond with one another before sharing a unique and life changing week.

Sometime during that delirious, sleep deprived layover, Shaun gave us all our room assignments and I found out I would be rooming with Nester. I already felt like I knew her a bit. We had been emailing back and forth for weeks, sharing our own fears about the trip. We had been praying for one another and encouraging each other over email, so I was thrilled to get to spend the next week getting to know her in real life.

Seriously. Could she be any more adorable?

As warm and sweet and funny and sincere as she is online, Nester is all of those things in person.

She is just a delightful person to be around.

For the last three years, Nester has issued a challenge during the month of October. Write about one topic for 31 days. The topics are always multifaceted and provide ample room for personal growth and creative expansion. This year, I’ve decided to join in.

I decided last night, around 9:00, just as she put up the first link up. I have gone back and forth for weeks now about whether or not I should join in. I had a topic in mind and already had a mental list of all the ways I could expand on it, but I just wasn’t sure I wanted to commit. What if I couldn’t keep up? What if I couldn’t think of anything to write about? What if I couldn’t do it?

My topic?

31 Days of Believing I Can.

 

I’d like to introduce you all to my friend and constant companion. Her name is Irony. She’s a wily little bugger…

So after hemming and hawing around for long enough, I decided to go for it. I will spend the next 31 days believing that I can abandon myself and the useless doubts and laziness that hold me back. I will spend 31 days learning to embrace the qualities that show love to those around me and honor the God who knit me together with a unique set of skills and passions. I will write on a variety of topics including:

          – Believing I can see life through the eyes of a child.

          – Believing I can plan and execute a week of meals from scratch using whole or organic foods.

          – Believing I can exercise and take care of my body.

          – Believing I can finish my book.

          – Believing I can speak to my children with kindness and patience and self control. (whew)

          – Believing I can serve and pour into those around me despite the fact that life feels overwhelmingly busy.

          – Believing I can eat Nutella every day for 31 days and not gain an ounce…. (Alright. This one might be a stretch)

         – Believing I can model a faith in my Jesus by better modeling the qualities He displayed so freely. (Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness and Self-Control)

My desire in this series is to focus on all the ways that I can grow as a wife, a mother, a friend, a daughter, a homemaker, a neighbor and a lover of others. This morning, as I sat down to write and to further refine my topic, I flipped the calendar sitting on my desk to October 1. The quote for today was by Angela Nazworth.

 “When we replace our desire to believe in ourselves with the desire to become more like Jesus we take another step toward loving each other a little more like He does.”

There’s Irony again, stepping forward to slap me around a little bit…

The posts will probably be a little shorter and I will be chronicling not only how I’m being stretched as an individual, but also what I’m learning along the way as I make the choice to turn my back on self doubt and believe with full confidence that I can live in a way that honors others above myself. I hope you’ll join me!

If you’re here from the 31 day challenge, leave me a link in the comments and I will make sure I visit your sites and check out the ways you are growing and developing over the next 31 days.

And come back tomorrow for installment one in my 31 Days of Believing I Can. Lunar Magic – Living life with the eyes of a child.

When life tangles

Life is messy.

It tangles and weaves and chokes and hurts.

 But somewhere in the tangle, beauty springs forth.

A cool breeze on a stifling day.

A blanket of snow on a frozen ground.

A tender giggle when the tears threaten to fall.

God has woven so much beauty into this world, but…

Sometimes you have to look through the tangles to see it.

Life is busy and the busy leaves us tangled.

So many plates spinning and every last one threatening to drop.

Can we catch them all?

Can we keep up the spinning?

Can we weave through the tangle?

Sometimes it takes a conscious slow down to stop the spinning.

Then we can see the beauty.

A deep breath on a hectic day.

A good book when the laundry climbs.

A phone call to a dear friend instead of a clean kitchen.

There is beauty to be had in the tangle.

Do you see it?

Can you weave through the tangle today?

Leave the plates to spin on their own for just a little while.

Take the time to breathe and see the beauty.

Tangled, beautiful mess.

And then there were six?

This guy has been asking to do this for awhile…

Photo by Lulu Photography (LuluPhotog.com)

This girl told us a few months ago that she was praying very specifically…

This guy gets to play a new role and he is thrilled…

This girl is stepping onto a path toward her dream come true…

Photo by Avodah Images.com

And this guy is the one who has listened closely to the Lord’s calling and taken a giant leap of faith, leading our family down a very new path…

Big changes are headed our way. The path will be bumpy and rough and beautiful and scary and each step is taken with a gigantic measure of faith. It’s a path full of unknowns and we’re excited to see what the bend in the road will produce.

Have you guessed it yet?

Through God’s grace and His Provision alone, our little family of five will become a family of six.

 

We are in the process of adopting a little girl from Russia.

 

Pray with us, please?

This journey will not be easy and a child in our arms at the end of the road is not guaranteed. The adoption situation in Russia is tenuous at best and there is every possibility that the door could close so we take each step with great faith and prayer for protection for us and our children.

We are elbow deep in paper work and some days I feel so excited and filled with anticipation. Other days I feel discouraged and worried and afraid. I’m told this is normal.

Your prayers are most appreicated and coveted. We have a lot of work to do, a lot of money to raise, a lot of faith to develop and cling to.

I’m so glad to have you all by our side.

Happy Thursday, friends.

To be continued

Life is full right now. Full of grand things and the beauty of miracles unfolding.

 

Life is hard right now. Full of the unknowns that leave you with so many doubts and fears.

 

Life is fun right now. Full of joy and laughter and a family united.

 

Life is changing right now.

 

Life is busy right now.

 

I’ll be back tomorrow with a fun surprise.

Ready, Break!

I like to call this Portrait of an iPad.

I am on technology overload this week and I’ve hit the burn out zone, which can only mean it’s time for a much needed break.

Sometimes the constant noise leaves me feeling emotional, unsure of myself and altogether irritable so I’m just going to take a few days off to collect my thoughts, get a little rest, clean that mystery stain on the couch and try to solve the issue of the ants in the bathroom.

WHERE ARE THEY COMING FROM?!?!

In the meantime, I’ve seen some really amazing posts online this week. I will leave you with the words of those who are wiser than I am and will hopefully come back next week a little more rested and a little less grouchy.

Shaun’s post on why bigger crowds are less compassionate rumbled through my head all week and gave me much pause for reflection.

He also launched the new and improved Compassion Bloggers site and it’s clap your hands awesome. You should check it out!

Becke’ strung together words in the most beautiful way yesterday nearly leaving me breathless. She is ridiculously talented.

Sophie made me laugh out loud (LOL? No…) with her exciting new heights of under-acheivement.

McKayla Maroney rocked her vault leaving me a little stumped as to how on Earth the judges could have given her any less than a perfect score. Perhaps they are robots, incapable of emotion? Her post vault reaction also made me wish I could bring her home with me and put her in my pocket just so I could pull her out and have her jump up and down and say “Yay,” every time I needed a little cheering up.

Angie Smith wrote about her table and managed to make me cry in the process.

The Olympic Swimming Team’s cover of Call Me Maybe makes me so very happy. It will make you happy, too. How cute is Missy Franklin?!

That’s it for me this week. I’m off to take the kids to the park, buy some school supplies, hopefully take a nap and spend a little time just being quiet today. You know, I remember a time when the internet wasn’t around, when there weren’t 52,000 TV stations to watch and when the only thing that tweeted were birds.

Because I’m that old.

Does anyone else ever feel like they’re on sensory overload? No? Just me?

Super…

The Decision

I wrestled endlessly this Spring with our schooling decision. I made lists, I attended open houses, I prayed, I cried, I decided and waffled and changed my mind and stressed and worried and fretted and wished and hoped.

And I finally went to my husband with all of the information, laid it out in front of him and put the decision in his hands. I told him my first choice, a hybrid homeschool program in which the kids would attend three days a week and I would facilitate lessons the other two, but it had a cost involved that concerned us both.

I told him my willingness to homeschool again if he felt like we needed to and I gave him all the information on the public school. And I asked him to decide because I was paralyzed. I had analyzed and dissected every option and was well versed on each Pro and every Con and it left me completely inept to see what would be best.

So I gave it to Lee and waited for him to make the decision. After a few weeks of thought and prayer he pointed me to the public school and, while that had been my last choice, I felt a huge weight lifted off of my shoulders. A decision was made by my husband and I had no doubt that it was the right choice.

He wasn’t plagued by every little detail like I was. He simply knew what would be the best next step and I trust him so Tuesday I marched to the public school and enrolled Sloan and Tia for next year.

I feel peaceful, but I’m nervous. I know it’s right, but there’s the unknown that keeps me prayerful.

I loved homeschooling the kids. I really did. I enjoyed it far more than I thought I would. Something really special happened this past year when I had them home with me.

I fell in love with them.

Of course I always loved my children, but I didn’t always love being with them. I was happy to ship them away whenever the chance presented itself and I hoarded my alone time with no small amount of selfishness. While they were home this past year, though, I really enjoyed just being with them.

We laughed a lot.

We learned a lot.

We enjoyed one another more than we ever have before.

We had freedom to go where we wanted to do what we pleased and learn what was interesting to us. I loved that.

However…

I firmly believe that homeschooling is the best education a child can receive if the parent teaching them is doing it really well. While I was having fun with them, I still did not feel like I was giving them the best educational foundation simply because I don’t know how.

I don’t know how to teach Math or Science. I didn’t love trying to break down grammar and teaching a six year old to read is just short of being stabbed in the eye with a hot poker. It’s hard.

I really believe there are other people more qualified to teach my children core subjects at this stage in our lives, but I also don’t doubt for a second that I will homeschool again someday. I can really see myself enjoying it a little more when they’re older and are a little more independent in their studies and I have more resources for help in the subjects I am not qualified in.

In short, I loved everything about homeschooling but the schooling part. Which…well, it’s kind of a key component.

Now, to be fair to myself, I will say I did a good job teaching them this past year. When we started the year Sloan was reading at a first grade level, could barely spell and had very little exposure to Subtraction. By the end of the year he was reading at a fifth grade level, spelling at a fourth grade, writing beautiful poems and paragraphs and had a working knowledge of Multiplication.

It’s not that I can’t teach them. But I did live under a constant wave of stress all year long and there are areas where I know they would benefit from a teacher who understands how to break things down more than I did. I never doubted my ability to teach them well. But I did fully realize that if I were to homeschool again, I would need a little more help in some key areas.

So next year they will go to school, and Landon will be in preschool five mornings a week, which means for the first time in nine years I will be alone during the day time hours on a consistent basis. I’m not going to lie – that’s an attractive thought.

But it’s also scary. I’m going to miss them. So when they all start back to school, to celebrate my first day home alone, I have vowed to go to Busch Gardens and ride every single roller coaster in the park.

By. My. Self.

How do you make the education decision for your children?