A Simple Luncheon

My 90-something-year-old granny is in town, 

visiting from the gorgeous plains of the Texas panhandle.

thankfully our return from vacation overlapped her stay by a day, so we were able to see her.

the plan was for my parents, grandmother, and my 2 teenage cousins (who are also visiting) to come for lunch today.

this morning, i was praying for my teenaged cousins, 
who may or may not know Christ as I do.

i ran around the house, steam mopping, dusting, picking up, 
prepping chicken, cutting watermelon,

praying.

i caught myself thinking that one simple lunch wouldn't matter.

my faith wouldn't be noticeable.

they'd eat, they'd leave.

and then I stopped.

and I realized that over the course of my life,

i HAVE had very memorable moments where the kindness of ONE person, in ONE instance,

made a difference in my life.

the counselor at church camp that hugged me as i sat on the wooden steps 

under a starry night and cried out to Jesus.

the sweet church lady who prayed with me when I decided to be baptized.

the older girl at college that wrote me an encouraging note.

the seminary professor's wife that welcomed me into her beautiful home for dinner,

graciously visiting and asking me about my life.

the pastor's wife that invited me to her Sunday school class 

when i didn't really fit with any other class for the summer.

 the co-worker that spoke kind words to me in the teacher's lounge.

those people? 

i doubt they have any idea the impact they had on my life in just 

one moment. 

one conversation.

may I live my life in such a way that those Divine moments,

{most of which I'm not even aware of and won't remember later}

further the cause of Christ.
not for my glory, but for His Great name.


may I be aware that simple conversations?
one small act of Kindess?
they could be remembered forever.

may I make them worth remembering.

 

 

Our Journey to Africa, part 2

we were in between houses, having moved to an apartment while we were building.

our sweet grace abigail had just turned one.

and my baby becoming not-so-baby anymore had my heart longing.

i can remember standing in the shower and crying.

Lord, I want more babies.

more children.

please, Lord, more children.

---

for anyone that's known me for awhile,

you'll know that grace's pregnancy was not easy on me or my family.

hyperemesis gravidaraum made pregnancy a living nightmare,

a nightmare i could not live again.

but i wanted more children.

Lord, please, more children,

became my heart's cry.

---

 and two years after I saw my friend's photos of a small country in east Africa,

she messaged me.

she was going back.

my heart skipped a beat.

{she was going BACK}.

and this time?

i could go with her.

----

thousands of questions later.

thousands of prayers later.

thousands of conversations later,

i boarded a plane from Chicago O'Hare, 

bound for Ug*nda, east Africa.

our hearts were open for adoption

if that's what the Lord had for us.

i longed for more children,

and our hearts had been broken for the fatherless.

as I prayed for months before I went,

I had about six specific prayers I prayed over and over and over

regarding adoption.

Lord,

let me meet our son on the first day in Africa.

 looking back on it, I have no idea why I prayed that.

why was meeting the child the Lord had for us on the first day so important to me?

for whatever reason, I prayed that prayer for days before I left.

---

two and a half years ago,

that plane touched down in Ent*bbe.

we traveled around,

and our first full day in Africa?

spent in an orphanage, 

volunteering, helping the workers change diapers, feed, laugh, and play with sweet, sweet, children.

and that first day?

i sat down on a chair,

giving a child a bottle.

and then, 

in a moment that my heart will remember forever,

a toddler crawled over to me,

pulled himself up on the hem of my long black skirt,

and I looked down into the deep brown eyes of a child.

a child that we would begin to plead for and pray for.

over and over and over again.

---

and though it has taken two years,

a lot of prayers and questions,

and the Lord has finally said YES.

He has paved a way.

that toddler is now an almost-4-year old.

and in the coming months, he will 

{Lord willing}

become legally what my heart has known since that very first day.

our son.

----

to be continued.

Just As I Am on BlogLovin

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

 

so, I don't overly keep up on these things, but i, personally, enjoy following some friends' blogs, and used to use google reader to keep up with them. 

but, for some crazy reason, google reader is adios.

so, i joined BlogLovin', a fun place to keep track of lots of your fave blogs and to read all of them at the same place, which is nice!

so, click on the link at the top and you'll be able to follow me there. 

although i know i don't blog for the amount of followers,

{i would write if no one read. the words spill out of my heart}

i do know that some like to read my blog and want you to be able to keep up.

Our Journey to Africa

i'm doing a Bible study right now on the Proverbs 31 woman.

it's got me doing all sorts of stuff, 

like getting up earlier than my usual early,

and challenging me to think about how I'm 

{looking well to the ways of my household}.

the study has mentioned the {dream} we may have for our lives -

whether it's starting a business or writing a book or a blog or even being a mom,

and how sometimes, 

these hopes and dreams for our future?

they may just be fun ideas,

but sometimes?

they're dreams the Lord has softly spoken to us.

the dream my husband and I are walking now?

the Lord began whispering it deep inside my heart just about 4 years ago right now.

--

{4 years ago}

i sunk into the corner of our couch,

ready to nurse a brand-new-gracie.

as I settled in to feed my sweet baby girl,

my laptop balanced on the arm of our couch,

so i could browse online during the better part of the evening

 that it would take to get our new baby girl fed, swaddled, rocked and shushed to sleep.

i scrolled facebook,

seeing funny anecdotes from friends,

what people were eating for supper,

and the standard Starbucks drink photo.

and sitting there on our tan micro-fiber couch,

holding my newborn baby,

my heart paused.

i saw pictures from an old college friend.

pictures like this

and this.

I read her blog.

she was in a small country in East Africa,

adopting their first young-toddler boy.

she asked for prayer for her journey,

and a specific prayer request -

someone to go with her for the few weeks that she'd have to travel.

and something began stirring in my heart.

i could go!! i'll go! i'll go!!!!!!

i thought over and over again.

i could take a 4-month-old baby to a impoverished country in Africa, right?

or leave her here, and pump on the airplane and in Africa every 2 hours for 2 weeks, right?

i wanted desperately to go with her.

{i needed to go}.

-----

it would take a few years,

and then a few years more,

but i would go.

oh, how i would go!

to be continued.

Kindergarten Graduation

it happens all too fast,

this growing up stuff.

wasn't it just yesterday that i was excitedly talking with a girlfriend,

announcing our much-waited-for, 

so-anticipated-after-years-of-miscarriage-and-infertility 

pregnancy with Grant?

wasn't it just yesterday that we were rushing to the Operating Room 
for a semi-emergent c-section?

wasn't it just yesterday that he was learning to walk?

learning to sleep in a big boy bed?

learning to peddle his tricycle?

learning to play with green John-Deere tractors?

but then I blinked my eyes.

and this sweet, sweet baby boy of ours,

graduated Kindergarten.

he sang on stage

what can wash away my sin,

nothing but the blood of Jesus.

what can make me whole again?

nothing but the blood of Jesus.

and with some math and language arts and science and geography 

added in over the past 9 months,

just like that,

he's a first-grader.

i'm gonna stop blinking.

our hot, sweaty, but very happy selves after Grant's last day of school,

which ended with a all-school picnic and field day.

On Body Image

i flip through my closet. 

Closet by Other Metro Closets And Organization The Stow Company

 

jeans that would fit in 10 pounds.

tshirts that don't hide muffin tops well.

skirts that don't stretch enough to cover a body that's born two kids.

i sigh.

my go-to yoga pants call my name.

they fit. i pull them on, wondering if even a closet full of clothes

 would satisfy my war-torn body, my fragile self-image.

 --

my cell phone rings.

i smile at the caller id.

we've been friends forever.

we laugh, we cry, 

we chat about day-to-day not-important-but-oh-so-important happenings.

 

 we laugh about our snack choices.

one of us is particularly likes the chick-fil-a drive through.

   i love this friend.

oh so much.

she's creative and funny. we both love to cook but get stumped at the day-to-day feeding our family gig.  we love to shop. she's a bargain hunter and finds the best stuff all over town.  she's extremely compassionate and always knows what to say and when not to say it.

when i was diagnosed with MS last year, she sent me starbucks gift cards.

picture source

she's shown up for me in the darkest parts of life, 

as well as the lighter parts.

the lighter parts as in why do our toddlers never sleep?

 i hang the phone up and smile.

how blessed i am to have such friends.

----

and then i realize.

 

never, ever, ever would i tell you about my closet friend by describing her dress size.

never ever ever would i describe her by how her clothes fit or don't fit.

why do i do that to myself, then?

    

      why do i see a saggy stomach and curvy thighs instead of a compassionate heart?

why do i see stretch marks and vericose veins  and pore sizes 

instead of a willing, kind spirit?

i need to, we need to, extend the same grace to our own bodies as we do our friends'.

we are fearfully and wonderfully made.

in HIS image.

not the image of pencil-thin-but-curvy-in-the-right-places girls 

we see on TV all day, every day.

 

while still trying to lose 10 more pounds,

i try to realize that people are not focusing on all the {bad} i see in my body.

today, look at yourself like your friends would.

i'm going to try to. and i'm going to try to realize that, at my funeral,

people aren't going to be talking about my waist size.

          

--

 Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out;
    you formed me in my mother’s womb.
I thank you, High God—you’re breathtaking!
    Body and soul, I am marvelously made!
    I worship in adoration—what a creation!
You know me inside and out,
    you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
    how I was sculpted from nothing into something.
Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
    all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
    before I’d even lived one day.

psalm 139

the message

    

 

Ways to Support your Pastor's Wife

part of me hesitates writing this because we love - truly, truly, truly love - our church body.

our congregation has bent over backwards to make us feel loved, and we truly do.

so, i don't want to this to seem like a help-me-out-right-this-second post. it's not.  maybe a better title would be {what your pastor's wife wishes you would know?} 

i'm going to type, and hope it comes out well. :)

----

one of my facebook friends is my former youth pastor.  he was the pastor of the Nazarene church in town, and although i grew up Baptist, i attended his youth group for my last 2 years of high school.  i have fond memories of Pastor Rick and his wife - they were always so, so, so inviting and welcoming to me, and "outside" kid.  

one of his devotionals about evangelism has stuck with me to this day:

that I need to be willing to {cut a hole in a roof} 

- or to do whatever it takes! -

 to bring my friends to Jesus.

Pastor Rick now pastors a church in Texas, and he posted this link on Facebook tonight.

7 Ways to Support Your Pastor on Sunday.

and, with my whole heart, as i read, i said yes! yes! yes!!

and, as a pastor's wife, when i got to the end of the article, I wanted it to continue, just a bit.

and include ways to support the entire family on a Sunday.

because, Sunday is a big, big, big day in our household. 

big.

day.

want to love your pastor, and his family, well on a Sunday?

here's my opinion on how.

pray for them.

seriously, pray. pray hard. 

 I cannot even list all the weird, random, 

and emergent things that we have had happen 

on a Saturday evening and Sunday morning.

after awhile of our Saturday evenings being horrendous, 

a prayer team gathered to cover our Saturday evenings in prayer.

and then, the next Sunday morning?

our then 3-year-old-son tripped and fell and sliced his head open 

WHILE AT CHURCH.

and we ended up in the ER with 4 staples.

so, pray for them.

drop by with hot coffee and donuts.

well, maybe not.  but breakfast for the kids? 

i may just hug you. or burst into tears of relief.

 park her car.

my husband arrives at church hours before i do.

i spend the morning corraling little kids -

{read: making them not kill each other}

to get us to arrive at church in one piece.

this past Sunday? everyone got icecream if they got shoes on and got in the car right.that.second.

Sunday mornings can be rough.  and then? you arrive at church.

and it's freezing. and snowy. and you have kids to take in. 

there is a wonderful, kind man at our church that parks my car for me.

and, truly? it's such a great act of service.

tell her she looks good.

well, not really. :)

but, don't tell her anything negative.

about her, the church, or her husband.

your pastor's wife is fiercly loyal, fiercly defensive, and fiercly passionate about your church.

on Sunday morning - which is essentially the Superbowl of ministry -

 don't tell her one.negative.thing.

she may just run to the bathroom crying.

tell her her husband is doing a terrific job.

being a pastor thrusts you into the public's opinion - 

which isn't always positive. 

there's very little i like hearing more than people's positive opinion of my husband.

and, if you don't have a positive opinion?

just don't tell me.

say hi. sit by her.

i've written about sitting by her before.

please, say hi! ask her how she is. make polite conversation.

i often stand around, feeling kinda awkward, when everyone's talking with their families. 

get her kids checked into the children's area quickly.

if you help in children's ministry, help get the pastor's kids checked in quickly.

NOT that she feels so important that she can bypass the standard procedure,

but because standing in line, while trying to talk with a hundred different people at once?

and trying to scan the foyer for visitors, thinking about which ones she hasn't met and needs to talk with?

it's difficult.

get the kids checked in so she can visit with the people she needs to.

 want to really, really, really help and love your pastor and his family on a Sunday?

take them lunch or supper.

Sundays wipe us out.

and often my husband has meetings or luncheons or more classes to teach after the service.

and while i know that I'm supporting him, and his ministry, while he's at those meetings or luncheons or classes, it can make for a l-o-n-g day.

i'm sure your pastor and family feels the same way.

take them a meal on a Sunday - and cross one major thing of your pastor's wife's to-do list

she'll love you forever.

i encourage you to just TELL your pastor and his wife that you love them, pray for them, and support them.  those words of affirmation? they're truly priceless.  pastors get a LOT of critique - if you love your pastor's family, let them know.

and, that hot coffee and donuts i mentioned on a Sunday morning?

i think they'd probably receive that well, too. :)

One Year Later

"Great is Thy faithfulness,” O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.

--

{one year ago, yesterday}.

 

The machine moved out.

i slowly sat up, orientating myself.

i blinked at the white walls around me.

the technician came in.

so, tell me about your symptoms.

i cocked my head. my brow furrowed.  

{the technician doesn't usually ask these things, does she?}

she sensed my confusion.

i just want to make sure the radiologist has the full picture.

oh.

i listed of the symptoms.

tingling, extreme weakness, burning.

she scribbled on her clipboard.

i walked out.

that technician's questions?

my first inkling that this was not a rule-everything-out MRI,

but a we-found-something MRI.

---

{one year ago today}.

 i stood in the shower.

my husband got ready at the sink.

the rosemary mint shampoo lathered.

i was thinking, why don't you go with me to the appointment today?

just in case?

sure,

he replied,

shaving the foam off.

the suds went down the drain.  

i stood there,

with the briefest feeling that the MRI follow up 

would be so much more than a follow up.

--

   we walked in the house after the appointment.

my father in law was chasing the kids around,

quite literally.

i hugged them.

we ate supper.

my father in law sensed the appointment was not as expected.

i went through the motions of chewing my food.

it seemed the world went on around me,

while i sat and watched through a window.

shock. i think it's called shock.

  

at the end of the dinner,

the kids went off playing.

matt began the explanation.

we were a bit surprised by the MRI report.

we discussed.

we stared.

we sat in unbelief.

i sat at the table while my father in law did dishes.

i was beyond functioning.

i remember thanking him,

and thinking i should get up and help, but unable to.

he told me he loved me. and to stay seated.

i sat at the kitchen table all evening.

the MRI report laid next to me on our red floral tablecloth.

the words stared back me.

multiple sclerosis cannot be excluded.

             ---

{one year ago, tomorrow}.

  we met my father in law for lunch at Chikfila.

we were on our way to the neurologist's office.

the kids played. the salad i ordered sat staring at me.

my father in law asked if i just wasn't hungry?

i shook my head. 

i just can't eat.  

the first time in my life,

i was so nervous i was going to throw up.

running to the bathroom in that fast food place,

i prayed.

we need answers, Lord.

help the neurologist.

we need answers, Lord.

we need you, Lord, oh how we need you.

---

{today}.

my left hand fingers tingle slightly as i hit these keys.

my toes are numb today, 

 a reminder of how real this was one year ago.

but i run around with grace abigail on safari expeditions.

we tumble on the couch together.

when our 6-year-old gets home from school,

i will be eager to hear the words "tag, you're it" from his mouth.

and as we pause so he can take his socks off to be faster on our hardwood floor,

deep inside my heart,

i will be oh so thankful 

that one year later,

i am playing tag.

chasing zebras.

 ballerina dancing.

with no limping. no cane. no walker.

{one year later}.

my heart sings His faithfulness.

though i may be glad the initial shock and awe of a MS diagnosis is over,

my new found depth of understanding of who God is?

i wouldn't change that for anything.

one year later.

Great is Thy faithfulness!

great is thy faithfulness!

  Morning by morning new mercies I see;

one year later.

All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—

one year later.

    Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!