So, I recently finished a book called 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess. It was very eye opening. Basically, this lady (Jen Hatmaker) decides to fast 7 different things for a month each. You may be wondering why she decided to do this. One of the main reasons was "to purge the junk and pare down to what is necessary, what is noble. . . [it is] an intentional reduction, a deliberate abstinence to summon God's movement in my life. A fast creates margin for God to move. Temporarily changing our routine of comfort jars us off high center. A fast is not necessarily something we offer God, but it assists us in offering ourselves." I read this and immediately wanted to fast myself.
The first month, she fasts food. Not all food. She only allows herself 7 items to eat throughout the whole month. She went through caffeine withdrawal, had to figure out how to eat while traveling, and experienced lots of moments of intense temptation. So, on August 1st I started my food fast. (It just sounded too fun to pass up!). I changed mine up a bit. We get weekly produce bins, so I decided to allow myself anything from my produce bin + chicken, eggs, and millet bread. I am only using salt and pepper for seasoning and can use olive oil to cook with. Yep, no coffee, no butter, no pastries, no well, no a lot of things. I thought about doing this a different month because this month is my birthday month, but then I realized it would be easier to do something like this right after getting back from Haiti. And I think that considering my friends on the mountain with no Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts, no Yogurt Mountain, no ovens for their grandmas to bake cookies in, no Subway or Chick-fil-A or a cazillion other restaurants to choose from has helped me cope with my food cravings some. They just have their little outside kitchens with a wood pile to cook on. They cook whatever meat or produce they got from their farms or from the nearest market. They butcher their chicken or goats, they cook their dried beans for hours, they harvest and chop and prepare their food all by hand.
Well, by the end of the first couple of days, I decided that I hate this fast. It is not the least bit fun. I have realized a few things about myself. 1. I use food for comfort, especially coffee. 2. When I don't have my comfort food, I am cranky. 3. I get jealous about what other people eat and secretly plot against them when they have the comfort foods I am craving - even if it's my own children. I've gotta say, millet bread with no butter is rather dry and I'm tired of my chicken tenderloins for lunch and dinner every day. I am so incredibly grateful for all the potatoes I have left over from a previous produce bin, or I doubt I'd ever feel full. And my lack of coffee started out great because I so intentionally weaned myself, but after only getting 5 hours of sleep one night, I started hating life. I actually took a nap in the middle of the day that day (I never take naps).
I get tempted to wallow in my self pity, but then, I think of my friends in Haiti who usually only eat one meal a day, and it is usually rice and beans. And then I think of the people in Darfur who sweep up the left overs off the market floor to form mud pies. They are eating just enough to not die of starvation, but they have probably never known what it's like to feel full. And forget about coffee or even clean drinking water. Their water is brown. It doesn't even look clear. It is just filled with all kinds of bacteria and parasites.
So, even though I'm hating my food fast and whining way too much, I am learning a few things about myself and God and this world. I am realizing how much I truly have. Even now while my husbands is in between jobs and we are always uncertain about when we will get money next and how much it will be, we are blessed just by living in this country and having the family and friends that we have. I am realizing how much I lean on my comforts and my desires and my routines rather than on God. I have prayed more and read my bible more these couple of weeks because I am not first curling up with my coffee and a pastry and a book. I was desperately needing to change some of my habits. And finally, I am realizing how important it is for us to obey God's word. We wonder why God allows people to suffer, to starve to death, or to die of curable diseases. Instead, we should wonder why we squander away what God has given us on ourselves and our wants. Matthew 25:41-46 says: Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.' They also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?' He will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.' Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.
As I feel unsatisfied and lust after the Dunkin' Donuts my husband brings home or the banana bread my grandma made, or the cookies my children get at Publix, I will remember that I still have so much more than most of the world. And even though I do not have temporary access to my big mug of coffee, I do have access to my heavenly Father. Purging my junk may not be fun, but it is most definitely necessary if I want to allow God to move more in my life.
I came back from my 2nd trip to Haiti this past weekend. It felt different this time. When we flew in, I wasn't overwhelmed with it's beauty like the first time. I mean, it was still breathtaking to see the mountains, but I felt like I was coming home. I felt a peace at the familiarity and an eagerness about seeing people who seemed to have a fuller picture of the importance of life. As we flew in, I was not filled with anticipation at whatever may lie ahead, but felt harmony with this place and these people who are not inundated with facebook and tweets and busyness. The trek up the mountain was still a little nerve wracking, but even that gave me a sense of peace because I knew the worse the roads got, the closer we were to our village. We arrived in Chaufford right in the middle of a wedding. There were not glares from guests because we interrupted the ceremony nor were we made to feel that we just ruined the bride's big day. Everyone just rolled with it.
But even in the midst of the peace I felt about being in Chaufford with these friends, I had a hard time. I came with a specific task - to teach some women to make beads. When I got there, I brainstormed with Jennie Ellis, one of the leaders of CPI, and we felt that it would be best to get girls in their late teens/early twenties to make the necklaces. Most of the older ladies have arthritis and a lot of the moms really don't have time to make beads. Plus the girls we were considering are in secondary school in the city, which costs their family a lot of money. We talked with a few girls and asked them to round up a total of 10 girls who would be responsible and would work hard. I told them I would teach them to make the necklaces and then we could sell them in America. They were very excited about it. Things were going in the right direction.
So, you are probably wondering why I had a hard time. I mean, all I had to do was make beads with ten teenage girls. But, if you know me well enough, you would know how much out of my comfort zone I was sitting with these girls. 1. I am not crafty or creative in the slightest. I am an inside the box thinker. I cannot conjure up images or patterns or fashion ideas in my mind. I put my clothes together in a formulaic fashion. I categorize and match colors and have such a hard time doing anything the least bit outside of the box. 2. I am a doer. I do not like to sit still. Laundry and dishes are the last chores I finish. In fact, I'll have vacuumed, mopped, dusted, and cleaned the bathrooms a few times before getting a basket of laundry folded. It's just hard for me to sit still. I always feel like I should be doing something. I've gotten so bad that I feel like I spend a huge chunk of my day walking in circles trying to decide what I should prioritize first. 3. I am not a girly girl. I do not paint my nails on a regular basis or even fix my hair very often. I loathe shopping and wear flip-flops almost every day. I have 3 boys and (aside from the noise) love it. I love watching them wrestle and jumping into tickle fights. I love that their version of dress up involves capes and guns. I love that my sons do not talk about who they will marry when they get older. So, you can see how making beads with ten girls is not my normal activity.
Me and my beautician
The first day I was supposed to meet with the girls, I woke up, went to our team meeting and then went to organize our room and get everything laid out. I "swept" the floor with a rag and had everything separated into piles. The girls were supposed to arrive at 10:00. I was ready by 9:45. (Yes, I was actually early!) By 10:30, I went looking for them. I didn't have to look far. Most of them were at Milo's house (one of the church leaders) right next to the church building. They were still waiting on a few girls to meet them there. So while we waited, they braided my hair and tried to teach me Creole. It was nice. I honestly cannot remember the last time I had someone brush or braid my hair. I could tell how sweet and mature these girls were, but I still felt way out of my comfort zone. Once the other girls got there, we headed to the church and I started our bead-making lesson. They learned quickly. I had to tweak a few of their beads, but they were naturals. However, they quickly began to make the beads their own. I kept handing them "pretty" paper and tried to get them to make beads all the same color and perfectly symmetrical. That did not bode well with them. Some of them made their beads from straight strips of paper instead of long triangles. Most of them used paper that looked plain and bland to me. But as they worked, I noticed how beautiful the beads were turning out. By Tuesday, we were stringing the beads and they did an amazing job combining colors and patterns. They had a knack for this creativity thing. But by Tuesday I was also feeling useless. I had been sitting in a room with teenage girls for 2 days, barely talking to them (because I don't speak Creole), and helping them make beads. The rest of the team was putting up walls to finish the upstairs and healing wounds in the clinic and leading huge groups of kids in English classes and VBS. I just went from girl to girl helping her make beads and not even speaking into her life. By Wednesday, I tried to stop our bead-making early so that I could go "do" something. But they wanted to keep making beads. I was getting so antsy.
My girls hard at work
But then I started to realize that maybe me sitting with these girls and helping them make beads was worthwhile. I think my realization came from the book I was reading. I was reading 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker. I was on the chapter about Media. She was talking about how we are so inundated with media that our mental abilities are shifting. We brag about being able to multitask emailing and texting and work and phone calls, but really, we are losing the ability to dig deep and stay focused on long term goals. My girls were perfectly content sitting and talking and singing and making beads. They knew that the end goal is to help their family with their school expenses. They were very content fellowshipping with one another while they worked on their common goal. And I wasn't doing nothing. I was helping them. I was encouraging them and teaching them. When they felt uncertain about their beads or necklaces, they had me there to ask for help. After reading that section in the book, I decided to try to embrace my time with these girls. I couldn't ask them about their school or if they have boys in their lives. I couldn't tell them to stay away from the bad guys and to study hard because an education can make a life or death difference in their lives. But I could encourage them and help them and show them that I value them. Over the next couple of days, I found ways to laugh with them and tried to focus more on how to encourage them than on trying to hurry up so I could get busy.
The finished product!!
The water souce
On Thursday, we had to wrap up early because of the construction that needed to be done in the room we were working in. That morning, I decided to walk down to the water source with some other people, which meant I got back past our 10:00 (which normally meant 11:00) meeting time. I expected that they were going to just start to arrive when I got back, but found that they were already in our room working. When the construction guys told us they were almost ready for our room, the girls diligently finished up the necklaces they were working on. They wanted to have as many necklaces finished as possible. They ended up making over 100 necklaces. In one week! That was more than double what I expected. I was floored. I realized that their 1 week of work would help them pay for about 1/3 of a year of their schooling. That is huge. They each got a bag of supplies so that they could continue to work on the necklaces throughout the year. I am so excited about the skills these young ladies are learning and the ways our project can help their families. And, I ended up being able to "do" something after all. Once the construction was finished, I got to help sweep the upstairs to make it ready for the up and coming school year. I even got blisters!
In addition to our success with the necklaces, the CPI teams finished the upstairs to the school, we had amazing worship services every night (in which the Haitians way outlasted us tired Americans), Bernix (a Haitian-American who lives in Miami and is involved with CPI) provided food so that we could serve meals or pass out food to take home, Troyce (our nurse from Clermont) treated a cazillion patients, we held English classes and VBS every day, Kendall and Kenny (the two pastors) trained pastors, our teachers who went held teacher training workshops, we cuddled lots of sweet children, several of us were able to connect with our sponsor children, and every person on our team walked away impacted from the beautiful people of Chaufford. It was an amazing week.
On the way down the mountain, I noticed several houses not too far from Chaufford that I could totally see my family living in. Wouldn't it be amazing if God opened those doors?
I have a new job - waiting tables. Along with a new job comes new schedules, new expectations, new friends, and more stress. My husband and I knew that it would require more out of both of us, but it's one thing to know something and another to experience it. The stage was set for my heart to get hardened. After all, waiting tables in your 30s when you have a home to manage and children and a husband to tend to is a lot different than waiting tables when you are in your 20s. I started getting frustrated if I would come home at 11 pm to find the kitchen not fully cleaned up or when clutter started to accumulate more. I stopped thinking about my husband working all day to rush home and then deal with dinnertime, bath time, and bed time all by himself. And then I had a conversation with a fellow co-worker - that was the icing on the cake. I was talking with this guy who is married with daughters. We talk a lot because we are some of the few workers who are not in college and who have kids. He talks about his wife all the time, and it's super sweet. He brags about her cooking and her parenting skills. He boasts that she leaves dinner for him on a plate every night when he gets home from work. He talks about their roles and the things that they joke about. I adore it. Well, one day, he was talking about trimming trees and mentioned how heavy branches can be. I told him I knew because I had some branches almost fall on my head when I was trimming some trees. He asked why my husband was not trimming the trees and I said that I do a lot of our yard work. He joked about it being the man's job and I told him my husband had plenty of roles in our home, but deep down I felt disappointed. I started to envy this guy's marriage. He and his wife seemed to have their roles so clearly understood. Jon and I have struggled with what our roles should be from the beginning of our marriage. I began to fixate on what my husband didn't do. I stopped trying to fix dinner before leaving for work because "he needs to help!" (Yes, sometimes it was just because I am not a super mom and didn't have time, but my heart definitely needed some work!) I forgot about the fact that he would most likely be juggle the kids while finishing up his work and fixing dinner. I began to complain about what didn't get done instead of looking at what did get done. My discontentment began to fester.
But then, I had a conversation with the same guy at work where I saw a glimpse into some imperfections in his life. I don't know that he felt that they are imperfections, but I know that they are. I didn't feel judgmental towards him or anything. It was just a slap in the face reminding me that we are all messed up and that without Christ, none of us do much right. Shoot, with Christ, we still mess up a lot. It's only through Christ that we get glimpses of perfection. I just kept thinking how blessed I am to have a husband who is a Christian man and who is constantly striving to pursue God and His will for our family. He may or may not get everything right, but he never stops trying. We may not have our roles figured out yet, but we are very much equally yoked spiritually.
As I began to realize this, my attitude started to shift. And then I noticed that there were so many other areas in my life where discontentment had been creeping in. I was discontent with our house and with our furniture. I had become discontent with my clothes and even with our healthy diet. How did I let my heart get so consumed with all these wants? Didn't I just get back from Haiti 4 months ago? Hadn't I vowed to not take anything for granted after seeing the joy my Haitian friends had in the midst of their hungry bellies and tiny homes and lack of electricity? But here I was hating my couch - which would not even fit in any of the homes that I saw in Chauffard - and wanted to change my wall decorations and was fixating on the color of my walls! And hadn't I felt convicted not so long ago once I realized that my buying habits enslave people? Yes, the fact that we eat off of paper plates almost every night and that I pick up cute little outfits for the kids (and sometimes me) from Target every couple of weeks causes people to remain in forced labor -some of them children. And here I am complaining that I just want some Kraft Macaroni and Cheese and some cuter accessories for my outfits. (Just a side note - all of this complaining was in my head so that no one could judge. Ha ha) I found out that my buying enslaves 70 something people, but I did nothing to change my life or my habits. I just felt sad but overwhelmed. I tried to comfort myself with lies like: I shop at Target, not Walmart (but still buy the items that are made from 10 year olds working 12 hour days!) And don't I complain about people like me?! Yes, discontentment fuels discontentment and it turns you into someone that is pretty ugly on the inside.
I had these realizations about myself but then went on with my life with a new list of ways I was discontent that centered around wanting to be more Christlike. I read through Judges and 1Samuel - which is all about how the Israelites were constantly discontent, turned away from God, became enslaved, and got rescued again, I cried over videos I would see on Facebook or blogs I would read about people who were sacrificing so much to serve, I watched a movie on child sex trafficking and learned how prevalent it is in my community, and my discontentment began to soar. I had to do something, but what?! And then, I butted in on some friends' conversation on facebook and learned about something called the 12x12 project they are starting - and they told me they would let me jump on board! The project deals with wearing one fair trade item each month for the whole month to help highlight the social issue it supports. During the month, we will raise awareness and funds to help with the issue. Really? Are you kidding me? As I read that first message describing this project, my heart quickened and I felt as if God Himself was speaking through that message. And then when we met about this it shifted and grew into so much more - how could we be bold, but not judgmental? how can we be disciplined in our faith? how can we simplify so that Christ is exalted? We talked about our hearts and the tons of social issues out there and how to not compromise. We did some scheduling and ate some homemade food and prayed. And I could sense that God is bringing at least some of the things in my life full circle. All these faith lessons He's been teaching me, all these convictions that I've had, all these things that break my heart are beginning to turn into action that will glorify Him! I do not need to wallow in my self centered discontentment nor do I need to sit and wonder what to do with my societal discontentment. I can live intentionally and encourage others to do the same. Check this project out on Facebook here or on Pinterest here and maybe you will find some small changes you can make that collectively can make a big difference.
A couple of weeks ago, I was given a gift. My sweet friend brought me groceries. It may seem like an odd gift, but it was perfect. See, she (unknowingly) cracked this door to allow me to complain, so I let it all out. I vented about how stressful our finances have been and how hard it is to pay the bills and get the groceries when my husband's paycheck is consistently late these days. I complained about having to work my new part time job and whined about being a tired and impatient mommy. I closed with asking for prayer. She decided to pray and then some. She didn't come with a check or a gift card to go get groceries (although that would've been appreciated as well). No, she did my grocery shopping for me. And she didn't just pick up some cereal and Ramen noodles. She got probably at least $200 of gluten free organic yummy goodness that I would've bought for my own family. I'm talking free range chicken, Almond milk, quinoa pasta, and organic fruits and veggies. I did not have to do any grocery shopping for a week and a half and then only had to get a few things for specific recipes. She stocked us up. And it was soooo hard to accept.
See, I know that behind the late paychecks are also nights of just not feeling like cooking or date nights with a little too much splurging or forgetfulness when it comes to paying the bills. Yes, we choose to live paycheck to paycheck so that I can focus on homeschooling our children, and there are a lot of sacrifices we choose to make, but we've had our moments of being irresponsible. I'm sure they are not much worse than the average person's moments, but they exist and here I have my friend (who goes without plenty herself to answer the same calling of homeschooling her kiddos) who just took her kids grocery shopping for me and spent her money doing so. It was humbling to say the least. My first temptation was to pack up the food - most of it at least - and take it to someone who needed it more than we did. I mean, there are people starving. We were certainly not starving. And if we ever ran out of food completely and there was still no paycheck, we have a lot of family members who would help. So, there are people starving and alone. But, I heard this whisper from God saying, "No, just enjoy. I love you."
So, then I thought that this is God's way of teaching me. All of this - the late paychecks, the late fees, the waiting to go grocery shopping and getting creative with meals, the heated discussions about whether or not we should go bankrupt, and now this gift - are all ways that God is trying to teach me to trust Him. I hadn't been fully trusting Him. After all, I had too many nights of just getting pizza or Subway for dinner. I should be able to do better. And if I truly leaned on Christ, I could do better. I began to see the gift as almost a form of correction. I desperately want to help others. My heart aches for all the suffering people in this world. I am supposed to be able to help others, but instead, I needed help. I am supposed to willingly lay down my life for others, but instead, I complained at the first sign of struggle. I should do better. I know Christ and I know His promises. But throughout this thought process, I would faintly hear God whispering, "No, you have it all wrong. I just love you."
I wouldn't really listen to the whispers. I began fixating on why it is that I would need to use God's resources. I kept thinking about our child who we are supposed to be adopting and about the single mom with no one who can't feed her kids dinner and my friends in Haiti who eat one or maybe two meals a day. Guilt began to set in. I should have packed up the food and found someone else to give it to. I am not the destitute. There are others who needed it more than us. My friend didn't know about our splurges or that we have a huge support network here. If she had, surely she would've chosen someone else to bless. I started planning on how I would pay it back. I was calculating how much things cost and what I owed. I would pay it forward - tenfold. Yes, that would reconcile this. But the whispers began getting louder. "I have paid everything. You cannot do this in your own strength. You have not taken away from anyone - everything belongs to me. I create all the food and I just want to love you. Accept my gift."
Sigh. Why is that so hard? Maybe it's because I am such an independent perfectionist. It can really get ridiculous. Yes, this has been a lesson, but not the kind I thought. See, somewhere along the way, I lost sight of the fact that Christ died for me. He died because I would never be able to earn my way to Heaven or be good enough to have the Holy Spirit dwell in me. Acts 2:39 says "The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off - for all whom the Lord our God will call." I am one who is far off. My family line is not Jewish, it is European. Christ died so that the whole world (including me) would be reconciled to Him. I used to read these verses and think that Paul or Luke or Peter were talking to me, but they were talking about me. See, I need Christ. Otherwise, I am hopeless. And He loves me enough to do something about my hopelessness. I have to really sit on that, which is a little embarrassing. Isn't this Christianity 101? Christ loves us and died for our sins. Yes, that is where our faith starts. Most Christians accept the Holy Spirit once they realize these truths. That's how it happened for me anyway. I remember listening to my youth pastor sharing his testimony and thinking, "I want to know God that intimately. I want to have a relationship with the God who sacrificed so much for me." I was so moved by the fact that Christ took on my sins. And each time I fell away from God, He would call me back and I would be even more moved that Christ took on even more of my sins.
But that is not where we stay as Christians. We begin to learn more and more about who God is and what truths He embraces. Without moving on to the realization that we are to first love God and then love our neighbors as ourselves, we do not experience the fullness of Christ. We receive His love and grace and mercy, we acknowledge the gifts He has poured out on us, and then we overflow with His love to the point that we have to share it. It's a beautiful thing. But I had left the first two truths behind. I stored them in my brain somewhere and began to focus on the pouring out to others. I knew that God does not want us to have a faith that is self-centered, but rather one that is God-centered. But, instead, I made my faith other-centered. Now, that sounds good, but the problem is that other-centered is not God-centered. My other-centeredness quickly turned to self-righteousness and burn out. Without focusing on God and holding onto the truths that He loves me and died for me, I became judgmental. I began to categorize Christians and look down on anyone who did not embrace my ideas of serving and dying to oneself. That's what happens when you do not exist out of the reality that God loves you and died for you - you become hard and calloused.
See, the gratitude that wells up is huge when you realize that without God's love and sacrifice you would be completely lost and hopeless. And then when you couple that with the knowledge that this God who loves you is the same God who created the universe and who owns the whole earth and everything in it, then you realize how much you will always have to depend on Him, not yourself or your own abilities or your job or your time management skills or anything else. You realize that those things are only God's gifts that could be taken away or that could shift into a different type of gift or whatever. There is no room for judgement or self righteousness when the truths you learn in Christianity 101 are so fresh and real. But when those truths start to fade into a how to guide, then there is room for all kinds of bad heart habits to form. See, if I've moved to the realization that I need to love my neighbor but don't first love God and receive His love and grace, I am acting out of my own will. God's goal is always about drawing our hearts to Him. When I act out of my own will, I do not depend on God and I begin to push Him out of the equation. So, sometimes God wants to use people to do acts of service to reveal himself or to minister to the destitute. But sometimes He just wants to love on His sons and daughters. See, every week, for the past couple of months we have been trying to balance our uncertain income. We tried to focus on God and to be grateful for what we have, but it's been stressful. I started working a part time job to help us get caught up from the financial strain all of this has caused and to help us pay for all the extras that come up when you're homeschooling 3 kids. When my friend brought me groceries, I hadn't seen the financial fruits of my job yet, but that first paycheck was coming soon. We would've been fine if she hadn't served us in that way. We would've just had another week or two of stress before it started to level out. But God chose to speak to her heart and relieve me of that stress. He chose to use this moment to remind me that He is my Abba Father and I am His daughter and all He wants me to do is to curl up with Him and just be. How am I to tell others about God's love and grace if I don't allow Him to lavish it on me? How am I to go and serve others if I have run out into the desert alone away from the living water? How can I love anyone if I do not accept God's perfect love and allow that love to flow out of me? I think the light finally went on when I watched Beth Moore tell this story about a man in an airport. I strongly encourage you to listen to it - whether or not you like Beth Moore. It just captures God's love for us. I am praying that we will all begin to realize how much our heavenly father adores us. Can you just imagine how much more we can spread God's love if we did?
Today is Mother's Day. I usually have lots of different emotions and expectations. Seems silly and maybe a little petty, but that's usually the case. I guess the biggest emotional difficulty is the reminder that I lost baby #2 around this time 6 years ago. We were right at 12 weeks along and just feeling like we were in the safe zone when I started to miscarry. The emotional implications that spiraled as a result are for another day, but I usually spend a little time thinking about what that baby would be like and what our lives would be like if we hadn't lost our 2nd child. And then there is the juggling of the weekend. I always want to spend some alone time with my mom for Mother's Day, but don't want to neglect my mother-in-law. I end up feeling pulled in a zillion different directions and spend mother's day with a forced smile feeling like someone is getting left out.
But this Mother's Day is a little different. Maybe my priorities have shifted. The beginning of my planning for this weekend started with thinking of possible fundraising opportunities for my trip to Haiti. That's never been a part of the equation. And then I started thinking about how we haven't hung out with our boys at the foster home in a while, so there was another twist. So this year, we hung out with my in-laws last night after picking blueberries yesterday morning (which will be used to sell more jam!), and I will finally watch Hunger Games with my mom this afternoon after eating lunch at the foster home. I think this will be the perfect Mother's Day weekend. And honestly, this is the first time I've thought about our 2nd child who we never got to meet. A small part of me feels a little guilty about this, but God's been teaching me a few things lately. I'm learning that our pain and disappointments are just a blip on the screen of life compared to the bliss of eternity with Him. I'm learning that it's not quite so important that I pick out the right card and spend the perfect brunch or dinner with my mom or mother-in-law on Mother's Day; it's more important how I love them all year long. And I'm learning that it's not the least bit important whether or not my children appreciate me as their mother, rather that I mother them well (oh, that one is still emotional, though).
Now, I definitely don't live out these lessons perfectly. I have my emotional crazy lady moments when life feels too hard or I get some bad news about something. I'm still learning to make prayer my first response to problems. But prayer and peace comes faster these days. And the days of deciding my parenting based on what I didn't like about my and my husband's parents are slowly making their way to the past. Sure it's good to learn from others' mistakes. I definitely hope and pray that my children will be better parents than my husband and I are. But I would dwell on the mistakes of our parents, which distanced me from my family. I have slowly realized over the past almost 11 years how very much my mother loves me and my siblings. I have these sweet memories of laying on my mom's lap while she stroked my hair when I was a little girl, but my most vivid memories begin when I was around 8 or so. I have a ten year old who is a carbon copy of me, and boy do we have our moments. I've been thinking about how incredibly patient my mom was with me. I had the same know-it-all attitude that my son has, but she did not loose her cool nearly as much as I do. Sure, she wasn't perfect, but she would listen to my drama about my friends and boyfriends and she would hold in the frustrations when I took things out on her. She sacrificed so much to give us a consistent, loving childhood. And she didn't have the life partner that I do. My dad had his strengths and weaknesses, but the hard thing was that they just didn't see things eye to eye. I knew that their marriage was strained growing up, but she never belittled my dad to us. Sure, they argued and we could tell when mom was mad, but it stopped there. It's funny how you don't realize what someone else has walked through until you've experienced some of it yourself. There is so much that I will never completely understand about the difficulties my mom had, but I understand how much she had to die to herself to give us everything she could - safety, love, character, a sense of responsibility, a burden for others, compassion, and empathy. She was such a great model for us. I just hate that I didn't appreciate it as much when I was younger. And this realization helps me to know that I might not be appreciated very much right now either. Like I said, my 10 year old is a carbon copy of me. We butt heads all day long most days. I absolutely cherish the days when we don't have to have twenty conversations about respect and honor and obedience. I love when he can have a whole week without being put on restrictions. But, his hard-headed little self still needs molding. And molding is hard. So, when he doesn't appreciate me and my molding (which sometimes I don't do very well) then that's ok. I just stop and pray that God will take over with the molding and trust that He is creating a beautiful vase. And I do still have my littles who adore their mama. Sure, they might give me mini-strokes throughout the day, but they are the best cuddlers. Now, this has all very slowly translated into a deep appreciation for my mother-in-law. That relationship is a little harder. Not on the surface. She is a super sweet person and very easy to talk with. But, it's been hard to have that deeper trusting relationship with her. See, now as an adult, I can see my mom in me. I can understand why she would get upset about the food being left out or the sibling rivalry with my sister. She was concerned about my character and the woman I would become. But, I don't always understand why my in-laws want to spoil my children or why they get so paranoid about my kids' safety. That's not really a part of me. But it is a part of my husband. And as I get to know them more and get to see the layers peel back, I get to see where that all comes from too. I get to see the unconditional love they have for my husband and my children and (I'm pretty sure) me. I get to see how they want to protect and nurture - even when the hard lessons might be what's best. I get to see how it pains them to see anyone they love in pain and how they, like my mom and now like me and my husband, have sacrificed so much to give us everything they can - coming to a new country, learning a new language while trying to learn how to be a good mom, and providing love, safety, and security to her boys while staying at home with them when they were young, but then working a very hard, demanding job as they got older (which she still works at today!).
So, now, this Mother's Day, I just want to enjoy being a mom. That's it - no more trying to please everyone or wanting some sort of appreciation. I look at the woman my mother is and figure that this molding I am a doing is also molding me. I love the person I'm becoming because of the sacrifices I've made. And honestly, they feel more like blessings than sacrifices. I get to have my hands in raising 3 men! And, maybe more importantly, I get to do it with the love and help and support of my sweet, amazing mom and mother-in-law. I am truly blessed!
Find out about the 1000 Moms Project and how you can bless other moms today!
"How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth! I gain understanding from your precepts; therefore I hate every wrong path. Your word is a lamp for my feet, and a light on my path. I have taken an oath and confirmed it, that I will follow your righteous laws." - Psalm 119:103-106. These words have been the theme of this season in my life. It started with learning to love God's words. I am so grateful that I decided to dive into His word because now, I daily depend on it to light my path.
See, He lights my path at my feet - with a lamp. I don't get to see very far ahead. So, I depend on that light. I squint and try to see further, but right now, I can't. And that is so hard. It is so very tempting to get anxious and frustrated or to feel inadequate. I wish I could come up with some master plan that would guarantee our family's safety and well-being. But there is no plan. My husband's job is very uncertain right now. We have to take things day by day, week by week. There is never a guarantee that he will even get a paycheck at the end of the week, but there is always a guarantee that our bank account will be close to 0 by the end of the week. I've been looking for a part time job to try to help build some savings, but I haven't had a ton of luck. See, I have been a stay at home mom for almost 5 years. That, evidently, is even a hindrance when trying to work at Starbucks. To add to that, I am not planning on changing my stay at home, homeschooling status, so that greatly limits the type of job I can get. I think I found a job at a restaurant - waiting tables a couple of nights a week. I wouldn't usually be thrilled to get back into the restaurant business, but the thought of money in savings makes me ecstatic.
Now, the really difficult side of this financial uncertainty is that our adoption process has come to a screeching halt. We have not done our home-study yet, but wouldn't pass it if we had. We cannot show that we are able to financially provide for another child at this point. I read blogs and articles and look at websites about the needs in this world. There are children being taken from their homes in Africa, there are 14 year olds in China who are getting put out on the streets because they age out of the system that young. There are babies getting herded into mental hospitals in Russia. There are children in America going from foster home to foster home, never knowing what it's like to be loved unconditionally. And I have felt for at least a year now that we have a child somewhere in one of these circumstances. We have a home and we have love and we have support and we will always figure out a way to meet all of our children's needs, but our hands are tied because things are too up in the air. I understand the system and the reasons why we need to know where our next paycheck will come from, but that doesn't make my heart break any less. I absolutely get sick thinking of one of my children - maybe my little girl, or another son who desperately needs to have a dad teach him about becoming a man, or a child whose soul is dying - living in some horrible condition. And all I can do is pray. I pray for their conditions and their caretakers and their hearts. I pray that they will know that they are loved because they are a son or daughter of a great King who has laid down His life for them. And then I pray that my next step will be one closer to stability so that the step after that will be closer to our child(ren).
Yes, it is hard to squint hard and see nothing. It is hard to trust and have faith. But this season is giving me just that. Faith in a loving, nurturing God. Faith in my Father who has plans for me and my children " plans to prosper us and not to harm us, plans to give us hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11) It is giving me a faith that is deeper and stronger than I have ever had. And it's all because I have no choice but to take the next step with Christ and to cling to Him rather than to map out my own plan and do it on my own. I guess I could choose to fret and worry and get frustrated, but that would change nothing. So I cover the worry with prayers and cling to my faith in Christ. And that is a beautiful (and difficult) thing.
Well, it has been way too long since my last post about Haiti! I am so sorry! Life just went into full gear when I got home. Plus it took me a while until I started staying up until 2 am again. I literally wrote this in 4 different sessions because I kept falling asleep. So, here is the condensed version for days 2-5 of my trip to Haiti.
By Tuesday I felt at home in Haiti. I missed my kids and husband, but I was in love with this place. We had more of an agenda on Tuesday. Jennie, Angela, and I got to meet with some of the classes and teach them about what kids in America do. Jennie went to a school in Lakeland and taught them about Haiti. Then, those children wrote about themselves and gave pictures of themselves, their pets, and/or their families. The Haitian children listened to us share about American culture so intently. Then they wrote and drew about their likes and dislikes. We asked them questions that the kids in Lakeland asked. It was neat to hear how similar the kids are, but how different the cultures are. All the classes were so well behaved. After school we met with the teachers and found out that most of the children do not have books. On top of that, most of them also come to school hungry and are only fed 3 out of the 5 school days while at school. They have so many uphill battles, but try so hard. Of course there are the kids who just don't like school (they are kids.), but it was amazing to see how many obstacles some of these kids overcome just to get an education.
That evening we met a boy, Jean Marc, who goes to secondary school in Port Au Prince. He had met Jon back in December, so he was excited to meet me and to hear how Jon is doing. He makes baskets and sculptures and sells them. His mom came a little while later with some that he had for sale and we were able to buy our souvenirs. It was such a sweet time talking with him and learning about his family. He told me that his mom has 12 kids, but only 9 are still living. She helps him find rocks to carve. And she was all smiles. She just warmed my heart. We went down into the church where a movie was being shown. This was such a luxury for the people in Chaufford. Electricity is a luxury. After the movie, we served food, but ran out - as would be the case every night.
The next two days were super busy. We began passing out gifts to the children in the sponsorship program. We used this as a time to motivate the kids. The ones who were working hard got a little extra while the children who were slacking were given only a few items and reminded that being in the sponsorship program is a perk, not an entitlement. I was so glad that Jennie delivered the tough love because for one, she is amazing at it, and secondly, I would've caved. A lot of the kids do not have parents at home encouraging them to do their work and study. Some of the parents would rather have the extra help on the farm, but a lot just don't have the education themselves to know how to push their child. Jennie was definitely skilled at having the perfect balance of love and discipline. In fact, two of the students who were scolded came and sat with her at the worship service Wednesday evening. I think part of that is their culture though. Some of the parents may not know how to push their kids when it comes to school, but they definitely know how to teach their kids to honor adults. The kids know that part of being loved is to be corrected. I never saw any of the kids talk back or try to get out of being reprimanded. After we passed out the gifts to the sponsored children, we then gave clothes and school supplies to the other students and to adults in the community. It was so sweet being able to give our sweet kids their gifts face to face. Both Julien and Maceline were so precious. They did not have an ounce of entitlement, but were so grateful for anything we gave them. In fact, most of the kids were that way. I absolutely loved my role of giving stuff away.
Thursday afternoon, a few of us went on a short hike to Gary's house (one of the boys from the school). He ran in ahead of us to pick up his room. He then took us on a tour of his tiny, but clean and beautiful house. It had two bedrooms and a dining room, complete with a chicken tied to a chair. The kitchen was outside, which is normal since they have to build a fire to cook on. There were plantains cooking. He then took us a little further up the mountain to show us where his dad and 2 sisters are buried. Literally half of his family has died. He, his mom, and another sister are still living. He had me take a picture of him and his dad, well, his dad's grave. He seemed to be at peace with his loss. He has a step-dad and seemed to care for him a lot. People get sick and die often in this little community. It is so heartbreaking that these children know death so well.
When we went back down the mountain, the boys held onto our arms to make sure we didn't lose our footing going down the steep path. I was so impressed with them. Wednesday and Thursday night both consisted of worship services, passing out dinner, and a dance party, but Thursday blew me away. The church was packed Thursday evening. This was probably because we also passed out dry food to send home. An early dinner was served and then another after the dry food was passed out.
And that is when I experienced my first food mob. We didn't have a system for passing out the food, so everyone just came up to get some. When people got to the food, there was no way for them to get out. Everyone was pushing and squeezing their way to the food. I had to brace myself against the crowd to shelter this one little girl who was trying to eat her food. I told her to just stay in front of me and eat instead of trying to get through the crowd. So many people were not able to eat that 2nd meal, but that did not stop them from staying for the dance party. I think some people stayed all night long. We left around midnight to go to bed, but I heard the music playing until at least 2:30 am and then heard people talking around 4 or 5 am. I love how much they embrace life. They work hard and pray hard and worship hard and party hard and know death and loss too often. They live with such an eternal perspective.
We woke up early Friday morning to head out to Port Au Prince and my heart was so heavy. I had this emotional roller coaster going on inside my heart. I hated leaving but couldn't wait to see my family. Still ahead was the trip down the mountain and our stay in this super nice hotel in the city. It was all so surreal. At the hotel, I just sat there looking over the balcony wondering how this could all be. How could we be in this amazing paradise of a hotel when people are starving to death just outside its walls? How could the people who spend their lives farming and providing food for this country die of diseases that we have cures for in America while there are mansions just down the road? I kept thinking that I just have to have an eternal perspective too. Only in eternity will any of this make any sense. I read the beatitudes: Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. This is what's real. This is what my friends who live on a mountain in Haiti experience. They must know these truths. How else would they be filled with so much joy? How else would they be able to keep moving forward? We think that we have so much to offer, but we have just as much to learn. We are blinded here in America. Most of us live in an illusion. We think we are immune from death and hurt, but we are not. The cross should remind us of that. My prayer is that I will hold tight to the truths that I've seen. Truths like I am a part of a much bigger reality that revolves around Christ's mission, not myself. Christ is not limited by poverty, or disease, or death because He has overcome those things. Hurt does not change who Christ is or what He's done, it just points to how much we all desperately need Him.
