I'm Moving!

Hi my friends! For reasons that I don't understand, my oldest desperately wanted me to move my blog over to wordpress. Will you please follow me over? And don't forget to subscribe!

Here's the link to my new blog Daily and Deliberately with Delight! 

My personal remake of Psalm 137:1-6.  It seems timely as we enter the Christmas season/extravagant spending season. :)

 Surrounded by a culture of excess, I wrap my arms around my middle and strive to think of what Heaven will really be like.

I sing my songs of praise, but at times the melody is drowned out by my pain.
My scoffers shake their heads sadly at my "ignorance" or openly ridicule my choice to live for that which I have not seen.  A culture of excess and intelligentsia has little room or need of Jesus. That's what they tell themselves as they use money as a balm over the emptiness they have grown used to ignoring, or fill it with yet another philosophical idea to debate among their elite groups.

 What keeps the song in my heart when the hurt surrounds me--both my own and every other face I encounter along the way?  The smiles are both a mask and real.

This is not my home! I do not belong here!  I will never fit in! Yet I get confused and try to be a chameleon and live in this Babylon without sticking out like a sore thumb. I forget for a moment and try to make myself comfortable in this foreign soil.

Give me a renewed sense of culture shock Lord.  Let me live in daily remembrance that you have called me apart and I walk by faith and not by sight.

Me? Pray for the President??

One of my favorite teachers has made a wise and powerful suggestion on her blog and I thought I would pass it on here for you to consider doing with me.   On the eve of our nation electing a new President, write out a prayer for him.  If you do it now, it won't be biased with your opinions or clouded by your thoughts of how the election went, but will be more pure in motive.  Can't think of what to pray?  Imagine if it were your husband or father being elected--what would you want people to be praying for him?  Then, over the coming weeks, months, and years, you will have something to pray for this man, regardless of whether he was your candidate of choice or not.  Can you imagine what a difference it would make if people spent as much time praying for their President as they did complaining about him?  Or, heaven help us, forwarding emails about how wretched he is?
 I go to sleep at peace tonight, knowing that no matter what happens tomorrow, my God is sovereign.  He is trustworthy.  Write out your prayers tonight--it's your opportunity. Go and vote tomorrow--it's your responsibility and privilege. Then, take some deep breaths and begin a journey of prayer for a new term of President for this great nation we are blessed to be a part of.

The Beauty of Adoption

 

February 2003: Playing with my babies at the Baby House in Russia--at this point we are waiting until our court date to finalize the adoption. We could only visit the kids each day--they couldn't come live with us in our hotel. We were sad about that, but we probably needed the rest--there wasn't much sleeping after they were officially ours.

 

In honor of today being Orphan Sunday, I thought I’d put a picture of my youngest two children during the time they were both legally still considered orphans. Although it’s been almost 10 years since then, it's still so clear in my mind how the act of stepping out in faith and in spite of our fears changed who we were. I trust God in a way I had never had before the adoption; my faith had not been tested so hard. I believe Him differently than I did before the adoption; He showed Himself worthy of putting my absolute belief in Him during that journey, even when it didn’t make sense. I love Him differently than I did before the adoption; once they put my children in my arms and I felt the love flow through me—the same, exact love I felt for my two biological children, I had a small idea of what God did for us when He called each one of us to be His very own—adopted heirs with His own biological Son, Jesus. Really, God? You love me like you love Jesus? How can that be? Ahhh, but I have an idea, because my love for my children is the same. The same! I’m so glad God allows us to participate with Him in His plans!

A Civilian’s Guide to the Military Wife

The other day in my blog, I mentioned that I was a patriotic kinda girl and I always have been.  I wasn’t excited, however, when my boyfriend our senior year of high-school told me he had been accepted to the Air Force Academy. I didn’t think that whole long distance relationship thing for four entire years would be much fun at all, and I was right in a lot of ways.  In other ways though, it prepared me for a life of often times having to love him from afar and live independently.  We have lived through our share of deployments, exercises where there is no access to him, and tdys (temporary duty assignments, or business trips), some long, some short. I have put down my own flooring, wallpaper, fixed toilets (they always overflow during deployments), dealt with hospital emergencies, traveled alone with kids via car or plane, held crying children that missed their daddy, cried myself to sleep, and got a dog—all during deployments.  Contact with deployed spouses went from driving to base to get one 15 minute video call (with horrible reception) during his tour to being able to talk daily via Facetime or Skype with our iPhones.  Amazing!

My man has served for 20 plus years now as an officer in the Air Force, so we have also had our share of relocations and all the other things being a military family entails. I have loved every minute of it, and when there looked to be a minute I might not love, I would go to the Chamber of Commerce of the new city and find something TO love. It has been a wonderful life, in spite of the hard times. My least favorite, even above deployments, has been living in limbo while the Air Force decided just what to do with us next.  If you’re a civilian and have no idea how to empathize with the limbo period a military family faces every few years here is a snapshot: Imagine having to sell your home whether the market was up or down. Imagine not knowing if you should enroll your kids in school or if you’ll be moved by then.  Imagine trying to eat all the food in your pantry because it might be any day that you get a few weeks’ notice to pack up. Imagine surfing the web at a myriad of different possible locations where you might be moving and trying to wrap your brain around how far that will be from family this time.  Imagine wondering if the new outdoor playset you bought for the kids at this duty station will put you over the amount of weight the military will pay to move. (if you go over, the cost per pound comes out of your pocket.) Imagine telling your friends you are moving in the next 6 months or so and watch the ensuing struggle that occurs while they try to protect their hearts and start to pull away even before you leave and really need their support.   And that doesn’t even scratch the surface of all the other “limbo” issues: should we sign the kids up for sports or will we leave before the season starts?  What will our new home/church/hairdresser/dentist/schools/friends be like? Will husband enjoy this job? Where will I fit in? How are the kids taking the news of moving this time, really? Will our house sell in time so that we can buy or will we have to rent or should we live on base? How long is the wait to live on base? Will our household goods come door to door (ha! Dream on! Happened only once to us in 20 years!)  Or will we be waiting days and weeks sleeping in a place on sleeping bags with just a few necessities? (Actually, that’s pretty fun!)

We are nearing the end of our time in the military and hopefully have used the last Sharpie to write “KITCHEN ITEMS” in large letters on a box so we can find it easily and eat sooner than later.  We have happily settled down in our little town in the Florida panhandle. It is close to the hometown my man and I grew up in and our family is within a couple of driving hours—a far cry from a four day drive across country.   We’ve lived in 10 houses in 20 years, had two children, adopted two more, and had a grand total of 16 pets live with us throughout those years (not counting the many fish that went on to Davy Jones’ locker!) My heart has hurt so badly watching my children hurt at times that the pain felt physical, yet I’m always surprised at how resiliently they have bounced back and adapted happily to their new home. We’ve missed our family and spent most vacations “going home”.  We have friends scattered across the world like the breadcrumbs from Hansel and Gretel…you try hard not to let proximity be the deciding factor on who you stay close friends with. 

But all in all…it has truly been a wonderful life and an honor to be a tiny part of serving this country in my own way.  To provide a safe place for a serviceman to come home to and make each house a home no matter how small/scary/fancy/decrepit/perfect is a learned art. To be the backbone of the family—the consistency for your children because daddy goes to serve—that’s an honor a military wife does not take lightly.  To have the strength to let your children experience pain because you know it makes them stronger, broadens their horizons, builds their character, and ultimately that they will be okay is tormenting.  To feel your stomach drop to your feet when you hear your serviceman say, “Honey, we need to talk. I talked with my boss today….” yet smile through the tears and say, “This will be good. It will all be good. California (or Louisiana or Germany or Idaho or North Dakota) will be a fun adventure! When do we go?” All of these things and more are truly an honor to a military spouse.  And we may be a little prideful because we’ve been through a lot and we came out the better for it, so forgive us if we come across less sympathetic than we should when you complain about your husband’s week long business trip.  We know better. It’s all relative.

 I will leave you with a few of my personal list of Do’s and Don’ts’ of Civilian/Military friendships:

 *Do open your heart to your military friend—even if she is in your life for a short time, you will both be better for having engaged and fully loved.

*Don’t discount the amount of time a spouse is gone: “Oh, it’s only 3 months? That won’t be bad—it will fly by I’m sure!” You may be trying to encourage your friend, but it is actually discouraging to be facing the daunting task of parenting/running a household alone and have your friend seemingly tell you to shrug it off.

*Do tell her you want to make dinner/keep the kids/hire a sitter and take her out, have her lawn mowed (or whatever you think will be the most help) and ask her which date works best for her.  One of my favorite birthdays ever involved two of my friends hiring a sitter for me as a surprise and taking me out to eat.  I cherish that memory over 10 years later.

*Don’t “jokingly” tell her after you find out her family is military that you can’t be friends with her because it hurts too bad when the military moves them. She knows a part of you means what you say. (Yes, I’ve had this said to me several times)

*Do introduce her to your friends and ESPECIALLY to your hairdresser (if you have a good one!) when she moves to your area.

 And don’t let proximity be the deciding factor in our friendship. J

Daily, Deliberately, and with Delight,
Lori

"Thirsting" for Sin?

I wrote this last summer as a Facebook note and thought I'd re-post it on my blog.

Had an interesting incident at last Saturday's soccer game and it got me thinking, which can be dangerous. :-) Here's the story: It's an Upward league, so those of you familiar know that at halftime, while the team gets some water and breaks in another room, the audience listens to either a testimony or watches a video--something that points to Christ. Well, this being the last game, the Upward coordinator asked the teams to stay in the gym and to wait to go to the bathroom and get water until the end of his presentation. He wanted to present the coaches with something and wanted the players present. Apparently Julia's team and coach missed that announcement, because 3 of the players, including Julia, went to get water. When she got close to us, Jimmy motioned for her to go back to her coach and sit down. She went, but not without talking back and pouting. When she sat by her coach, he asked her what was wrong. She broke out the tears then, and told him her daddy wouldn't let her get water. He asked why, and she shrugged her shoulders. So....the coach waited about a minute, and then told her to go get water anyway. She did.

It was all I could do to wait until the game was over to find out if she had lost her mind! We went in separate cars to the game because I had some errands to run, so Julia and I were alone in the car after the game, and our conversation went like this.

Me: So, I saw you were pretty upset when dad made you go sit down without water. Why do you think he wouldn't let you get a drink?
J: I have no idea Mom! (tears start back)
Me: Well, let's think about what you DO know about your daddy. Do you think he wants you to dehydrate?
J: no ma'am
Me: Do you think he was being hateful and wanted to watch you suffer even though he saw how hard you were playing and knew you were thirsty?
J: no ma'am
Me: Do you trust your daddy?
J: yes ma'am
Me: Then is it possible that maybe he had a reason for telling you to sit down that you just didn't understand at the time, but it was completely in your best interest?
J: I guess so.

So I explained that the coordinator had asked them to sit down and wait until the end of the presentation and pointed out that her daddy, who heard what he said and knew she would want to be there for it, gave her an instruction that she didn't understand. Because she didn't understand it and because it didn't fit in with "her" plan, she took the opportunity at the first chance she got to disobey. I can't imagine what was going on in that coach's mind to instruct my little girl to go against something her daddy told her not to do, regardless of how "unfair" it might have seemed.
She apologized, explaining that she hadn't heard the coordinator give those instructions and the rest of the conversation was one-sided. :-)

"Julia, learning to obey your mom and dad is your training ground for when you are out on your own. While you are learning to obey us, even when you don't get it, you are learning to obey God. There will be times in your life when you know God is instructing you to do (or not do) something, and you won't agree. It won't be in your plan. It won't be as much fun God's way. It will leave you longing for what you want. And the worst part will be when people you respect, people you really look up to, give you advice that go against the Word of God and/or what you hear Him saying to you. That's what your coach did today. You know what the Bible says in Ephesians 6:1--Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. It doesn't mention a coach, a sibling, a good friend, a teacher--it specifically says parents. God has entrusted us to be the ones you are primarily obedient to, so if a coach or anyone else tells you to go against what we say, that is wrong. And when you chose to go get water today, you chose sin over obedience. Where faith and trust come in is realizing that God has the Big Picture that you don't have. He knows what is in your best interest in the long run and just as you can trust your earthly daddy to lead you even when it doesn't make sense, you will need to learn to let your Heavenly Father lead you as well."

Anyway.... maybe you're thinking I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, but the truth is, sin is sin. We aren't told to measure our sin up against the world's and be relieved that we aren't THAT bad, we are told to hold our sin up to God's holiness--then it is all revealed as filthy rags. I came away from that game surprised, yet again, at the craftiness of the enemy we fight. He looks for our most vulnerable place, our longing, and then puts things (or people) into our path that make it seem okay. Or at least, not so bad. And when our focus is on ourselves and our longings and not Christ and His holiness, it is oh so easy to choose sin.

The good news, no, the GREAT news, is that we have a God that is not only in hot pursuit of us, but One that is longing to forgive and wipe the slate clean and leave the enemy chomping at the bit while we experience His grace. Over and over. Unmerited for sure. Because when we accept Christ and His grace, it's not like He uses an entire bottle of Clorox to get our filthy rags as clean as possible. No way. Those rags are replaced with snow white garments. Ahhhh, grace is so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes and swells my heart each time I am confronted with what it really means and what it really cost.

So, a frustrating experience, but a teachable moment came from it. Julia received a consequence, apologized very sincerely to her daddy, and like her Heavenly Father, he was a beautiful demonstration of forgiveness. Sadly, I think the lessons we learn the best are the ones we learn the hard way. I guess it's human nature, but it usually takes coming face to face with our sin against His holiness that takes our breath away and leads us to real change---repentance.

This picture was taken a few years ago at Julia's baptism--the day she symbolically said, "I choose repentance over rebellion." As many of us know, that is a daily decision--not a one time deal.  The choice to be a Christ-follower, however, is a one time deal. No matter how many mistakes we make, no many how many times we need our slates wiped clean, God's forgiveness is always there for us.  I wish the phrase "you can't out-sin God's ability to forgive" didn't sound cliche, because I am living proof that it is true! And so is Julia. ;-)

The Longest Week of My Life Is Almost Over...whew!

"She generally gave herself very good advice (though she very seldom followed it)." These words, penned by Lewis Carroll about Alice, made me laugh out loud tonight when I read them.  If ever I have lived a quote out in my own life, lately I have been living this one.
Last month I had my first (and please God, last) major surgery.  I plotted and planned and read about how to recover from surgery. I listened to sage advice from my surgeon, his nurse, and those who had "been there-done that" about the importance importance importance! of giving your body time to heal and not trying to do too much too soon! I vehemently nodded in agreement every time--I had every intention of taking plenty of time off to heal. In fact, I was secretly looking forward to being forced to slow down and allow myself to be pampered. 
That intense agreement with the sage lasted around eight days.  Around day eight, I started feeling a little antsy. The pain medicine I was taking prevented me from reading anything--I couldn't focus. I started getting frustrated-- I had things to DO! I would just do a little thing. Not a big thing. Like re-organize Anthony's room.  He HAS been asking me for so long...what else am I going to do? Sit on the sofa and watch HGTV until I turn into a zombie?
That one "little" thing turned into another "little" thing, and before I knew it, I was right back in my life full force.  Everything was fine. Kind of. Well, not really.  I was still taking strong pain medicine because that was the only way I could do all of the things I had been doing and survive my day.  When I would try to stop taking the medicine, I hurt so badly because I was doing waaaaay too much. It was a vicious cycle and I knew it.  I just wasn't quite sure what to do about it because I had obligations that I couldn't figure out what to do about and I figured I had missed my chance at really recuperating--trying to  go back and do it now would disappoint people. I don't like disappointing people.
Then I started dropping my balls. I had been juggling so many balls prior to the surgery, probably too many, but it was ok. I was healthy, exercising, sleeping well, staying in the Word, and in a good place. After surgery I could no longer exercise, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't even read my Bible--a recipe for ball dropping.  My ball dropping came in the form of anxiety and tears and constantly feeling overwhelmed.
Meanwhile, I have dear family and friends that love me and kept telling me I was doing too much, too soon.  One day at the beginning of this week, I actually heard them.  I took my last narcotic on Monday and went about the business on Tuesday (in between my tears of almost unbearable pain as my body adjusted to feeling pain full force) of clearing my calendar as completely as I could.  Each day until today has been utter agony--I really believe I had stagnated my recovery by doing so much and I treated myself like it was the first week post-surgery. It has been one of the longest weeks of my life, mainly because I disagree with the entire premise of pain.

This week has really been  pleasant once I got used to the idea of nothingness. It's hard work doing nothing, and I'm planning to keep it up for a while longer, and then slowly ease back into my life. And as for all of those "disappointed people" that I hated letting down? I have only been met with absolute support, love, and understanding. My friends have stepped up and taken things over for me, offered to help, graciously accepted my inability to do what I previously said I would do, and most importantly, listened with understanding and love.   In fact, I've been blown away by how much harder on myself than anyone else would ever think of being.  I think my mother may actually be right. lol

But if I was already juggling too many balls....does something (s) need to go? That's what I'm spending my "nothingness" doing; asking God to show me exactly what He wants me to be invested in.  I don't want to just do good things--I want to spend my time doing the God-things He has specifically laid out for me. Otherwise, I take the chance of stealing someone else's chance to do their God-thing and I don't leave time in my own life for rest. And that's the moral of today's little tale. :-)

P.S. I do not personally recommend going cold turkey off a pain medication--an incremental reduction plan is a much better and healthier way of going about it. :-) But I only have a degree from Google University, so please consult your physician before embarking on any plan involving pain and drugs! lol