The Unexpected Friend

It was late one Thursday night last fall when I found myself standing in the sporting goods section at Wal-Mart.

A lot could be said about just that fact alone because trust me, I am the last person you will find out on most week nights. Especially at Wal-Mart and sporting goods?

Oh my. That is just not my niche but duty calls so there was I.

The truth is that I was struggling. Not the kind of struggling that involves questions such as which basketball do I buy or the how quickly can I get the least amount of things I need and get out of here kind of struggling-no I was struggling for real.

When the husband and had I decided to become foster parent's we knew we were called and we knew little else. One of the worst things for this non detail oriented person that I am to deal with, was just the overwhelming amount of information that was presented to us every week.

Every Tuesday night after a class we would get in our car, look at each other and kind of say.....really? And then before we could make it to the interstate we always came back to the simple fact of WE WERE CALLED THEREFORE WE WILL MARCH FORWARD.

So that's why I was standing in sporting goods on said Thursday night.

Our home study was wrapping up and after the kids were in bed I decided to head to Wal-Mart and buy the last finishing touches of safety proofing our home. Tim is a hunter so I needed some gear from sporting goods to secure his hunting equipment.

I must have looked halfway as confused as I felt because when I went to ask for help I was greeted by a blank stare and the help of a woman who knew way more about this kind of thing than me.

She warmed up to me after I started talking to her and when I told her why I was there in the first place she got a clouded look on her face.

"I was raised in foster care," she said. "So I want to thank you for what you're doing."

An hour later I'd heard about more pain than I ever cared to know existed in the world and I'd made a friend.

Sometimes all people need is someone to slow down long enough to listen.

When I asked for her biggest piece of advice she didn't hesitate and said, "Don't ever make any of them eat dog food." She wasn't joking.

I cried, talked to her some more and kindly thanked her for cheering me on as I had overcome yet another hurdle in the process. I told her I wished her well and tried to share the love of Jesus and went on about my way.

That was then, this is now.

For the last two weeks we had the privilege of our first little precious one in our home through foster care. It was ten days of absolute fun. To say that our hearts are prepared to love again and love big would be like saying that the ocean is made of water. Or the sky is blue.

And when that little one was suddenly out of diapers and baby food one evening and it was after five pm....you guessed it.

I loaded up the little one and together we headed to Wal Mart.

A woman on a mission was I and we had our list bought in no time. As I headed from the check out counter to the front door I looked past the big beautiful blue eyes staring at me from the front of the shopping cart and stared straight into the face of my friend from sporting goods.

I could tell she didn't remember me but I wasn't deterred. "I'm the lady you helped one night when I was struggling with getting everything together for our home study!" I'm sure I was a little overly excited and more than happy to share with her the little guy I was toting along.

"This is the first sweet one we've had in foster care," I told her. She looked at him and then at me and she said, "I'm so glad it's going well for you ma'am."

I hugged her tightly and she walked away with big tears in her eyes. The last look I got of her face was like that you'd see on a runner after finishing a marathon. Or someone at the top of Everest.

It looked a bit like redemption.

Foster care has already been a blessing to us in so many more ways than one. Loving on a child, well that's not hard for me. That's just what I was born to do; be a mom.

When you add to that the bonus of encouraging someone along the way? Well, that's also what I live for.

We go to church every Sunday, attend bible studies through the week and have the best devotion apps on our phones.

But sometimes its in the oddest aisle at the grocery store that you can encounter the heart of God. I'm so glad I made an unexpected friend.

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Joy Is

Joy is found in the small things of life.

Ironic isn't it, since we spend so much of our days in vain pursuit of things that won't really matter in the end.

My people and I-we spent last week unplugged and away from the busyness of every day. It was joyful indeed.

The laughter in those little voices, the sunshine on their faces and the ice cream dripping from their chins, well it all did my mama soul some good.

While I love the memories that are made and the fun that is had by all-one of my favorite things about a week away is perspective.

Because somewhere in the middle of the piles of laundry and the dishes and  the how am I going to concoct some sort of chicken and call it dinner tonight there is a mundane dance that is too easy to acquire.

Sometimes that makes the little things like the way the light shines in your kindergartner's eyes seem too dull.

Or the way the freckles spot the nose of your pre-schooler seem like beauty that will always be there, so why stop and marvel at it today?

Sometimes? Well sometimes we just need a good reminder to slow down and enjoy what is being lived today. Because we aren't promised tomorrow.

Tomorrow it will not matter that we worked overtime today. Or missed a soccer game last Saturday. Or spent endless hours scrolling through social media. Or talking too much on the phone. Or whatever it is that we do-that doesn't really matter.

It is so easy for me to get caught up in doing what it is that I do-instead of being who I am called to be.

And who is that exactly?

Well, I'd say it's a lot of things but mostly at this point in my life-it's mama.

Going in slo-mo is crucial for me every now and then-because finding time to appreciate the small joys of motherhood is the good stuff that my life is really made up of.

And for me it's hard to remember that when I'm too busy.

Of course you won't find that information anywhere in the latest best selling self help book. It is not a number in the the course of "ten keys to success" or "twenty ways to make your life matter." 

We live in a world that thrives on busyness and I too am guilty of having a calendar with not enough white space.

But when I slow myself long enough to hear the giggles as we bike ride through a quaint little town, and when I look at life through the eyes of a five and six year old while building sand castles....perspective.

And with that perspective my heart is so content. So full of joy.

I don't need help juggling-I need help slowing down. Because just like tiny grains of sand passing through those little fingers....

so goes the moments of our lives. 

(No that was not a promo for Days of our Lives.) 

It just sort of sounded that way.

Joy to me is motherhood. And the million little things that go along with that role. 

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Keep Digging

This sweet boy of mine, he is always teaching me a thing or ten.

I'm so thankful that The Lord didn't make him an "easy child" because how boring would that have been?

On good days he is a delight. On bad days he is stretching me, pulling me out of my comfort zone. I love it that he keeps me humble and in constant conversation with the Savior on my parenting. I don't even pretend to have him all figured out.

The truth is that this sweet boy of mine is actually a lot like his mama.

It's humbling to see the best and worst of yourself in a pint size version.

I used to wish that I could tell him the hard lessons I've learned early on so that he could just skim over that part of life toward becoming the little person that God has designed for him to be.

But lately I've changed my prayer to sound a bit more like, "God this is an amazing child with a super strong will. He is strong, yet tender hearted. He is very opinionated but easily influenced at the same time. So I thank you for the wonderful person you've created and I want you to show him from an early age how to become all that you intend for him to be."

The fact of the matter is that I think I've been protecting my sweet boy too much.

Often times I can see him starting to get angry and I'll hurry and try to redirect him.

If I know that something is going to upset him then I'll do whatever it takes to avoid it.

There's nothing wrong with that sometimes-but my heart has been convicted lately that I need to let him feel anger so that he can learn how to deal with it in a healthy way.

I need to let him be upset, so that he learn how to cope with disappointment early in life.

That might sound mean and hard and cruel but the truth is that I wasn't much older than my boy is now when I vividly remember how I started figuring out that everything in life wasn't always sweet and sassy.

And the last thing I want to do is build a bubble around my little one that is so thick he'll never be able to see the world around him clearly.

We are on vacation as I type this. You would think that a week in the sand and sunshine would be giggles and grins and everything glorious wouldn't you?

You would be wrong.

Our little man wasn't feeling well when we started this trip off and that coupled with the lack of a routine....shazam. We found ourselves in the middle of a couple of off days for our boy.

I immediately did what I always do first, which was start thinking of ways that I could handle this and ways that I could make it better.

Of course, as a mom, it's easy to do that.

But then I made myself let go a little bit.

"Just trust Angel. Trust and believe he's going to be able to figure some of these hard things out."

That's always so much easier when you aren't right in the middle of a mess.

And then yesterday as I was watching the grumpiness unfold he did the neatest thing.

He sat down with his blue shovel and just started digging. He dug for quite some time and actually he and The Princess spent a few hours today doing the same thing again.

Not building a sand castle really, just digging for the pure pleasure of it.

As I watched him dig I thought about life and the times that you feel overwhelmed, overcome by frustration, anger, sadness, depression and all of it would surely overtake you if you didn't choose to keep on digging.

Sometimes for the life of you, you just look at everyone else and they all seem so happy and carefree, jumping in the waves and all, and you have to sit and dig.

But if you keep digging long enough you will find what you're after.

The joy everlasting that comes from Him, only from Him sometimes gets covered up with the messiness of everyday life.

Week after week and year after year of storms and waves can  overlap and bury your dreams deeper and deeper until you look around and it all looks the same.

Kind of like a sandy seashore.

When it does and when you feel numb from the frustration of it all-if you'll just go back to where you started from and start digging, it may not appear at once, but surely after while persistence pays off and what you're looking for will start to resurface again.

And like a six year old who's just been handed a double scoop of ice cream, you will cherish your treasure and relish in the joy of that which you spent precious time looking for.

Are you in a pit today? Keep digging friend.

I don't promise gold....I've got something better.

It's joy everlasting. It can't be bought or measured-it comes from on High and it is so worth every day you'll ever spend digging.

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The Loving and The Letting Go

You came and stayed for a little while.

When you left, a part of my heart went out the door in the other arms that carried you.

That's how this process goes, or so I'm learning.

The truth is that I've only waded into the shallow end of the pool and still have so much to learn about how to be the best mama I can be to the precious littles being brought to us.

Like for instance, how to love and how to let go at the same time. Remnants of your stay remain and I wipe tears for a while and smile at the same time.

Because the truth is, little one, that I'm still learning to adjust to the fact that you are gone and the little snacks on the kitchen counter are still here. There's a clean footed sleeper,  fresh and ready to be worn on top of the folded laundry pile and currently, no one here to wear it.

I dug through totes last night and found clothes for your age and size. You're coming back in a few days and I aim to be ready. But at the same time I put the baby food back in the pantry and pushed the high chair to the corner because it's not yet time.
The loving and the letting go....it makes for a wide pendulum swing of emotions on a mama's heart in one day.

I still don't know all that much about the way this all works. Even the acronyms that go along with all of the formal process can leave my brain feeling more than a little fuzzy.

But this I do know. I love children.

I love you little one.

And for now that's all I need to know.

Even though it's painful, I would much rather love deep and well and have to cry with the separation that goes along with this process, than to never know this kind of love at all.

It's all very strange to me still, even the deep love that I feel because my biggest fear going into all of this was whether or not I'd be able to attach.

Yeah, you took that fear with your chubby little hand and threw it right out the window never to be heard of again. Because when my eyes looked into yours a confirming piece of this puzzle locked into place never to be removed again.

We were called to walk this road. It got a little confusing at times, but you gave us all the proof we needed to know that this path that we're on? It's right.

I stand back and marvel at the precious ones who care for you night and day and have done so nearly your entire little life-and I wonder how I am ever going to be that strong. They are the very hands and feet of Jesus and there's no one I'd have rather looked to for a real eye opener kind of first experience than them.

They have blown the four walls of safe living down with a jackhammer and love you and show you Jesus without abandon. Your little eyes light up when they walk in. It's a marvelous miracle, that God can weave the fabric of two lives together into this beautiful story of yours that He's creating.

Whatever your story is little buddy, I know it's going to be great. Our God is FOR you.

No matter how much I think I love you, or anyone else loves you, He loves you way more than that.
He knew you before you were born into this world and knit you together in your mother's womb.

Even though you got off to a little bit of a different start, that didn't take Him by surprise. We live in a sin infested, fallen world and He arranged and rearranged the plan that would take place to put you right where you are today.

You are chosen little one, by the God of the universe. You are His child first and although what that's going to look like here on Earth is still a little fuzzy, I have full confidence that He will put you right where you're meant to be.

So I will love you and I will let you go.

I will smile and laugh when you're here and cry when you leave.

I will push you in the baby swing at the park, rock you to sleep when you're tired, hunt Easter eggs with you and take a million pictures along the way.

And when the van drives up to take you home I will load up your things, cry the ugly cry and smile through the tears as I wave goodbye because I trust God is working out all the details of your little life. His plans are far greater than mine could ever be anyway.

It's been one of the biggest blessings of my life already-to have even been this much a part of your story.

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To the Lady in Front of Me at Target

I blame it all on the unexpected week at home.

All of that break of snow fun left me a tad bit emotional I reckon, because on Monday when we got back into the swing of things well, I was not swingin'.

I've been blessed with a job that allows me to work while the littles are away but, truth be told on Monday it really didn't take much time.

And when I found myself finished early and the clock didn't read pick-up time yet, then what's a woman to do but go to Target? Because, of course.

All the browsing of those aisles filled with pretty little things can do a woman about as much good as an hour at a counselor's office.

Until you round the corner and run smack-dab into the woman you used to be.

I didn't meet her until I was in the check out line.

She wore a pony tail and a tired look on her face. Scurrying around like a busy squirrel, she was getting those groceries onto the check out counter as fast as possible.

I know that feeling. That "Oh my goodness if I can just hurry up and pay and get out of here surely no one will notice the screaming."

Or better yet, "Come on you've made it this far, do not leave that whole cart and give up now. Just make it through check out and get out. Focus girl, you can do this."

Any mama knows that the wheels do tend to fall off the wagon right when you've made it to that  counter.

What caught my attention most wasn't her worried face, the hurrying around or the annoyed (twenty years old at most) attendant at the register.

It was those kids. Those ridiculously beautiful brown eyed little beauties....well, I just couldn't take my eyes off of them.

"Mama I want a snack! I want a juice box PLEASE. Please mama, I'm hungry now!"

In my minds eye those were two little blonde heads and that woman with her hair in a pony tail was me.

I tried to stop the tears from coming-but it was no use.

Embarrassed, I tried to quickly explain myself and I'm sure it was all a bit or much awkward.

"Oh I'm so sorry, please excuse me. It's just that it all goes so fast and now mine are in school and oh how I wish I could have one more day like this when they were little."

It's true. What they tell you about blinking and it's on to the next season? That's very true.

Soon enough there comes a day when there is no need for a diaper, a sippy cup or a nap time.

You suddenly go to the bathroom and no little person tries to follow you in there.

No one wakes up in the middle of the night needing to be rocked back to sleep.

And while healthy development and progression is a beautiful thing it can sometimes leave a mama wishing for yesterday.

Like leaves blowing off of a tree in the fall, time blows swiftly and there's no gathering up those leaves. No putting them back on the trees again.

A season passes and it's gone. You're left with the memories.

So while it may be a frigid cold of a winter time in mothering for you dear friend, try your best to embrace it.

Stop in the front of the grocery store, listen to those little cries for help and soak it in.

All too soon those little people you're pushing will be running ahead of you and you'll be doing your best to keep up with them.

So let's enjoy every moment and make the most of today. Don't let the little things rob you of the JOY of the current season.

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The Loom

So when you're handed number 18189 on a little business card at the information desk of the O.R. where your son is having surgery, the process goes a bit like this:

1) You take said card and make your way to the fish tank. (Because everyone knows that a glimpse at a bright fish will always distract a mama's eyes and still a fast beating heart just a little.)

2) Find the number on the card and match it with the number on the screen. See what color the number is highlighted by.

3) Take a seat and get busy being still. Get busy being still....just waiting for the green of the O.R. to turn to the blue (recovery) and finally yellow and the little lady that walks over and says you are soon to be connected with that little piece of heart that beats outside of your chest in just a few minutes.

Ahhh, sometimes  oftentimes it's in the stillness, in the quiet, in the sitting while-waiting-it-out that we realize the gravity of our situation.

The realization that God is so very near or we would be so very overcome by the current state of events in our lives is made evident by many a fact at a time like this. I have literally sat and waited for my breath, my very next breath, sitting there in the grip of His grace waiting on number 18189.

Last week, while I was sitting there waiting I joined my littlest little on a project she was working on.

Before we left town and headed for another hopeful chance at a successful procedure on my boy, a friend of mine gave our sweet children some crafts to keep them busy on the long trip ahead.

Little did anyone know, the loom was for mama-and the Lord was about to show his glorious Self through the weaving of the threads on that loom.

As the hour of 4 turned into 5 and 5 into 6-my fidgety heart took the loom that my little Quinley had already created quite a few masterpieces on and got to work.

I would weave a few rows, look up and see where 18189 was, look down to weave again, wipe some tears and realize I'd mis-stitched a few rows.

Frustration would get the best of me and I'd hand the loom to my sweet other half sitting by me on that couch. He'd fix my mistakes and hand me back the loom again. 

That process repeated itself for the better part of the evening until I'd finally finished a potholder or two myself.

When the surgeon walked through the doors to greet us at a little past 7 I was finally able to breathe a little better and felt like Mt. Everest had been lifted off my shoulders.

As we were gathering up our things to head to Tanner's room a few nurses commented on our potholders. 

"Oh how beautiful," they would say. I heard a lot about how many of them used to do the same thing back in the day. 

As they talked I looked down and I saw the missed stitches. I saw one orange row where three lines in a row were missed. 

One was tightly woven in the middle and so loose on the edges.

I thought about my mistakes and the fact that my potholders weren't perfect.

I didn't care. 

Because to me, the grace in the fixing was worth more than my perfection ever would have been. 

No one looked at my little piece of art and said, "Oh that's cute but it would have been so much better if you wouldn't have messed up here."

No-when the world looks at our lives friends let me tell you a little nugget of truth here: they aren't looking for perfection. We all know that perfection is unattainable anyway and the strife to get there can drive one to misery in the process.

What they are looking for someone who is real. Someone living in the trenches and doing their best along the way with a joy that marks the life of a believer.

That is what makes the web of our lives so beautiful. And that is when Christ really shines through. What is the meaning of our salvation if we're so put together on our own that we don't need the blood of our Savior anyway?

It isn't the beautiful perfect rows so much as the redeeming ones with more than a missed stitch or two or three-caught and woven together by the surrounding support of a web that catches all.

It catches all our good days and bad days and the good thing is that even the bad days are worth something!

We don't just throw them away never to be remembered again, we redeem them and weave them into our story. Our story for His glory.

That's how the Saviors love makes us known. As His broken but beautifully pieced together and  brightly shining masterpiece.

Isn't that so much better than perfect?!

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Kindergarten

We walked behind her letting her lead the way and I just stared at the big blonde curls bouncing with every step she took.

Evaluation day is sort of like Coronation day in the eyes of my little real life princess.

I didn't realize how much it had concerned her until her teachers told me she'd been practicing writing her name all morning and asking them if she was doing better. She's paid attention to how much big brother has worked on handwriting this year.

My sweet girl just warms my heart.

Watching her reminds me of how Jesus must look at us. He wants us to succeed. he wants us to be the Godly people we are called to be, working for the glory of His Kingdom.

When we go out there and do that thing He's called us to do? Oh how His heart must burst with pride.

As I think about some of the hard things God has sometimes called me to do-my first thought is,
"Oh how easy it would be just to ignore this and settle for less than my best...God's best for me."

But after I push past that initial backing away, it's like working on writing my name for a preschooler. Day in and day out, pressing toward the mark, it always makes for a more fulfilling outcome.

When we picked her up from preschool yesterday, the first thing that she asked was, "Do I get to go to Kindergarten mom? Did they say that I'm ready?"

"Yes ma'am, you're good to go," I told her. She pumped both little fists in the air and yelled, "Yes!"

It was one of those finer days of motherhood.

The kind where you feel like the good that is being poured into your child is finally starting to sink in and pay off. Watching them blossom into the beautiful person that God created just for them to be is a beautiful thing.

My heart looked toward heaven and I said yes too.

Yes Lord, send me on to Kindergarten….I want all you've got in store for me.

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