Choose Love

As you know, the world is going to hell in a hand basket.

The times, they are a changin. I mean, I can't count how many ways the world is different than it was just since I was in college...and that wasn't even a decade ago! The world is getting more liberal by the day and it's scary.

I'm currently in the throes of choosing a preschool for the twins for next year. I know they're only going to be three but I feel really sure that it's a good move for us personally. No, I'm not homeschooling even though I'm a teacher AND a Christian...shocking, I know. Anyway, in less than a year they will be "students" of someone, some nice preschool teacher. It will only be a few hours a day, two days a week, which is really no big deal. But it feels like a gateway. To me, it feels like this is just the first small step in my releasing them into the hands of the world. Because next year it's two days a week, then the year after that it's three days a week, and then they're in kindergarten and they will actually see me for a lesser amount of time per day than they see their teacher. So far, Joe and I have been in control of almost 100% of their formative years. Those years aren't over yet but next year will be the first time that we're introducing a new "teacher" and authority figure into their lives. Not to mention the influence of other children, other children's parents and older sibling, and the mixed teachings that they may all receive and talk about in the presence of my kids. Oh heaven, I have to check my pulse just thinking about it.

In getting advice from other parents we respect, a few of them have told us that choose to send their kids off to school with a few short, simple, but very important go-to rules or mantras to focus on. Things like "Have fun, learn something, and treat others with respect" or "Think for yourself, be caring, and be responsible." Which I think is a really great strategy and I'm still working on my most important school rules for them but it's got me thinking what if I could send them into LIFE with one giant lesson that I wanted them to grasp it would just be to choose love. Choose to love people even when you disagree with them, dislike them, or don't roll with the same crowd as them. It really is a choice, and a choice that's easier made when it's practiced and it becomes a natural response rather than something you have to force yourself to do.

I hate when Christian parents keep their kids home when their high schools do a Day of Silence (which is a active day of protest against the harassment and bullying of lesbian and gay students). As if to say, there is just no way my child will stand in support of the clearly sinful lifestyle choices of their peers. It kills me. Have we become so closed minded to, so afraid of, so put off by what we see as sin that we can't even let our kids get anywhere near it? Now don't get me wrong, I understand what the Bible says about homosexuality and I believe the Bible is truth. But I also know my Jesus. I know how he behaved and what he chose and who he hung out with and there is NO WAY he would have stayed home from school that day. He would have chosen love. Can we teach our kids to abstain from judgement even when we disagree with others and just choose to love them because they're God's children too?

I come from a long line of very racist people on both sides of my family. "Black jokes" were a pretty regular pastime where I came from and I never could have dark-skinned friends without an extra dose of suspicion and unmerited judgement from my father.

One time in high school I began to befriend a boy who was quite a loner and through many conversations he admitted to me that he was a cutter and struggled with some serious depression. Of course, being the shallow blonde chick that I was in high school, I had no idea what to do with such information (the deepest thing I struggled with at the time was where in my bedroom to place my next Hanson poster), so I came home and asked my parents what to do and how to help this kid. I was instructed to stay away from him, lest he corrupt me with his trench coat style and menacing ways.

People, I didn't stand a chance.

I have GOT to give my kids a chance. I'll spend all of the years they are in my care trying to teach them that Jesus is the ultimate authority in our lives and what he says is wrong, is wrong. And what he says is right, is right. That ALL have sinned and fall short of the glory of God. And that it was for LOVE that Christ spread his arms and died for those sins of mine and theirs and others. We will not agree with the life choices of others (and please don't think that I'm implying that skin color or homosexuality or depression are life choices). But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. And that means that we will serve the gay goth kid in the same way that we serve the home schooled girl with braids.

So go ahead world, get liberal. See if we care. WATCH us care.

Change of plans...

Well, as if enough change hasn't been happening in our lives lately....let's throw in an unexpected pregnancy! That should be fun!

Ok, let's recap. A few months ago I was feeling exceptionally tired, but that's to be expected when your husband is changing jobs, you're moving, and your twins are about to turn two, right? Except that one day I just HAD to take a nap. And I am NOT a napper. I loathe naps. I hate the way they steal my daylight and my productivity and make me feel groggy and disoriented. So I knew something was up the day I knew it wasn't an option to not give in to my need for sleep in the middle of a beautiful sunny summer day. So I took a test. It was all kinds of positive. The scene unfolded like this: I stood at the bathroom counter with my mouth agape and my eyes bulging out at that ridiculous looking plus sign. Speechless. How did this happen??? I mean I know HOW it happened, thank you Abby Hanson, but how did this HAPPEN?? And in walks Joe. On his way to pee. Out of the corner of his eye he notices the stick and with an early morning squint he leans back into a half-limbo position to get a good look, checks it out, and keeps on going with the intent to pee like nothing is going on. With a yawn, he casually confirms, "yep, that's positive." Thank you dear. I see that. Why are you not SHOCKED and TOTALLY ALARMED??

Anyway, it took a while to sink in. Actually it's still sinking in. Ever since the twins were six months old, we knew the Lord was calling us to adopt our next child. Our adoption agency has a policy that if an adopting couple becomes unexpectedly pregnant, their case will be put on hold until their youngest biological child is one year old. We knew this all along because we had to sign papers saying that we would immediately disclose any information on changes to our family structure to our social worker. As soon as I saw that plus sign I knew the plan had changed. We wouldn't be able to adopt. At least not for a long time. That was such a crazy mix of emotions for me. I didn't have to adjust to the idea that there was a baby on the way...I just had to wrap my brain around the differences on how it was going to come to us. For a solid year I've had visions of a beautiful brown baby in my arms. I've imagined meeting our child's birth mother, but not BEING our child's birth mother. I've dreamt about getting a phone call that changes our lives forever. I've wished to be a safe place for a child that doesn't have one. So my first thought was, "Why Lord are you allowing this to happen when your plan was so clear?" I NEVER questioned whether adoption was the next step for us and I felt like it was always only confirmed everywhere I looked.

So I don't have the answer. I wish I could say that God revealed something to me that made it all make sense. And I don't think God changes his mind. I'm not following a fickle deity. He is wise and He is good and He DOES have it all figured out. I just don't. And that's ok with me for now. I don't need to have the answers. But I will say (sparing the details) that I am ONLY pregnant right now because SO many stupid details lined up exactly as they needed to be in order for that to happen. So I do know that God's got his hand on this and it's in the plan and again, I'm just here for the ride. What else is new?

So we were shocked but we are blessed. I am so excited to be able to carry ONE child!! I think I will love being pregnant this time around and I will love birthing one baby and nursing one baby :) How privileged we are to be held in the palm of a perfect God.

Due March 13th, 2012. Three kids under 3 should be a good time :) Bring on the chaos.

Blessings still abound during a tiring week...

131) the sound of rain while I'm sleeping

132) the smell of brownies baking

133) the ability to purchase a can of paint in any color I want

134) trustworthy babysitters

135) dinners out with family

136) having a house to come home to

137) sleeping in until 7:30

138) napping while it's raining

139) living in a country where a big truck comes and takes our garbage away

140) hearing Brett say "thank you" loud and clear instead of "du du"

141) hearing Ella say "tankth" with her sweet little lisp

When it rains, it pours.

It's been a dry summer here in upstate New York. April showers brought May flowers as usual but since then it's been dry enough to kill all the grass in sight. And for anyone who knows my strange addictions, you know I'm just praying that the pumpkin harvest will still be successful this year.

But for the last week or so it's been raining like crazy. It's like somehow the clouds just stored it up for months and are finally letting it all out. I know how that feels. I'm a stuffer. I can plug it up and hold it in until I get so full I just bust. And it's all kinds of ugly.

That was like this summer for us. It started out pretty uncertain, but slow. We had a child "on the way" through adoption (not a specific child but just the possibility looming over us), we were moving but we didn't know where, Joe was changing jobs but we had no idea what the heck he actually did for a living (ok that was just me, and maybe still is). So we lived in this state of uncertainty but nothing was really moving forward. Just a lot of waiting.

So then about a month ago my mom's fiance, Ron passed away. That was hard. And we bought a house. Not hard...exciting, but for a woman, that's an emotional investment just to try to think about making some strange house your home. Then we started packing. Not fun, but fine. Then last week came and we closed on the house. We bought a wonderful house with great "bones" in a neighborhood that we love but it really needed a lot of love and a little face-lift. So we spent a week letting other people watch the kids so that I could come and start painting as much as possible before we moved in. I would come during the day, and then come at night after the kids went to bed. And some nights I would stay home and Joe would go to the new house and bring tons of boxes and do some more painting. I didn't see my kids or my husband for a week and I was so off of my normal routine. And there are few things I love more than routine.

And we hired a dry wall guy. Worst experience ever. This guy stunk. At first I thought he was a bit like a good doctor with poor bedside manner...like he did good work but not so great with communication (as in, he didn't even show up or call a few times that he was supposed to come and he also flooded our basement without telling us. Oops, must have slipped his stupid mind). Then he finished...or actually, he just stopped coming and Joe fired him and the finished product isn't really that great. So we're hiring some more contractors to come and fix his "mistakes". Stressful.

And this Saturday Ron's son got married. It was a beautiful occasion and they are an amazing couple and I was so happy to see them on the happiest day of their lives, but it was a little difficult feeling the lack of Ron's presence at an event where he would have been so happy and proud. It was really difficult for my mom, which made me a little bit of a wreck on her behalf. She did pretty well but of course there were tough moments to get through but I was proud of her overall.

And one of my uncles lost his four year battle with cancer this week. We attended the calling hours on Sunday and the funeral mass yesterday (Monday). I will write more about those things later but these events came with some massive anxiety for me because my Uncle Doug is my dad's brother, which meant that of course my dad was going to be there and the idea of seeing him always makes me dig up all my defenses before I've even been attacked. My anxiousness about seeing my dad was only rivaled by my sadness for my Aunt and cousins who were grieving the loss of the strongest part of their family.

TOO. MUCH.

This all just got to be WAY too much for me. A dry summer interrupted by a solid week of rain. I had a meltdown. It wasn't pretty. I couldn't hold it together for my kids or my husband, I just broke under the weight of it all. And each of those issues in themselves would have been ok, I could have stuffed it and then let it out slowly but adding them all together in one week was just too stinkin much. I couldn't sift through it fast enough to keep up.

God was speaking to my heart, trying to remind me that paint colors are terribly trivial and that any house is a home as long as my family is there and that death is a certain part of life. But I was too full to listen. Way too full of worry and self interest and anxiety and all the things He tells me to throw away because they're a waste of my time. Will I ever listen?

"From the end of the earth I call to you

when my heart is overwhelmed.

Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I,

for you have been my refuge,

a strong tower against the enemy.

Let me dwell in your tent forever!

Let me take refuge under the shelter of your wings!"

-Psalm 61:2-4

But it's true that His joy comes with the morning. And today is a new day and we have a home to live in and I have a beautiful family and a God who holds me when it seems like I'm drowning in the downpour. It's still raining today but the boxing bell rang and I'm in my corner and I don't know if this will be a brief time-out or a nice long season of calm. But I do know that my hope endures and my God is the same today as he was yesterday and ten million years ago and the same as he will be tomorrow. Rain or shine.

All in a day's work

Yesterday was a full, fun summer day. My mom and I took the kids to the Rochester Museum of Play where they....played. A lot. My mom and I were pretty much exhausted after chasing them around for two hours, and two hours really isn't that long to be in a place like that.

Just upon leaving, little Ella's elbow lost it's socket a little bit and she (rightfully) freaked out. Now, this same exact thing happened to her last weekend on our way out to the lake. We had to turn around and take her right to the doctor. *sidenote: last week's dislocation happened at about 4:45pm and by 5:30pm, we had been the pediatrician, gotten her fixed, and were back on our way. I LOVE this country!* Anyway, while we were at the doctor, he said that this "nursmaid's elbow" was very common in kids between ages 1 1/2 and 4 and could possibly happen many more times, so he showed us how to fix it ourselves if it should happen again. So yesterday when my mom said she heard the thing pop out, we knelt down beside the carousel, I said a little prayer and did a little twisting and shoving and she was good as new! I was very excited about that.

Well we came home, had some lunch, and I put the kids down for a nap. I was feeling pretty productive so I did some cleaning and some packing (since we're moving in less than two weeks).

Joe got home early which happens often on Fridays but is never any less awesome. So when the kids woke up we took them outside to play. Well, Joe played with them and I sat and read a book/supervised. There is just something so good about sitting outside with sunshine on my face, a book in my hand, watching my husband and kids run through a sprinkler together holding hands and laughing. I don't care if you think that's cheesey, it's my life and I love it.

Then we had some lame summer dinner scrounged up from the contents of our fridge. After dinner we went out for ice cream and when Brett got up to the counter to order, he slammed his open hand on the counter in front of the nice girl's face and yelled "black and white and black and white!", with a slam designated to each word of that incoherent sentence. Which, in his language meant, "two twists please"...but a little more rude.

Ice cream + cones + 2 toddlers = total disaster ALWAYS. Why do we put ourselves through this? I guess because the kids love it and what is summer without a lot of sticky ice cream residue stretching from INSIDE one ear to the other. After that, it was back home for a quick baby-wipe bath (perfect for the filthy child and exhausted parent combo) and the children were off to bed. Whereupon we turned on the Yanks game and sat still for the first time in 24 hours.

Just a pretty typical day in our home (save for the fairly serious injury and me playing ER doctor). And what a wonderful life it is.

Processing

This weekend was completely exhausting. It started on Thursday when we lost my mom's fiance, Ron, to cancer. He had been battling cancer for upwards of 8 years and just this past April he went in to have surgery on his kidneys and at that point the doctors said he had 3-6 months to live. What a crime to put an expiration date on someone's life. And yet they were right.

He was such a loud and boisterous man...in a great way. Always ready with a joke and hug that left me smelling like his cologne for the rest of the day. He was a Nazi in the kitchen, needed everything his way and nobody got IN the way...even in MY kitchen :) He was a lover of poker, fishing, boating, vacationing, joking, margaritas, suspenders, cigars, Wegmans, Dean Martin, golfing, hunting, cologne, and my mom. I hated watching him become skinny and quiet, it was like I didn't know what to do with him or how to talk to him because it just wasn't the guy I was used to. So I was happy that he didn't have to suffer any more but sad for the loss of a man that I really adored and especially sad that my mother lost her life partner.

His funeral was held on Saturday morning with a reception afterward and it seemed like a little bit of a whirlwind. I know that everyone grieves in their own way but I hate when people don't talk about those they've lost. Luckily, Ron doesn't have that kind of family. I think they'll do a great job of keeping Ron alive through stories and laughs and drinks that he loved. It's so healthy to talk about the losses in our lives and to free ourselves to feel whatever it is we feel when we do that. So today I feel a little sad for maybe the first time since he passed....forgive me, I'm a slow processor. But I'm going to be grateful that he was so good to my mom, and a father-figure to my brother, and friend to my sister and I.

So I'll dedicate a few of my blessings today to him:

1) the loud, cackling laugh that was so infectious

2) the human ability to fight for what we think is worth it

3) living in a country with amazing medical care available

4) food, and the joy it brings :)

5) breathing in second hand smoke from a cigar...one of my favorite smells

The Road to NOW

I'm starting a journey.

I think we're all usually on some kind of journey in life whether we realize it while it's happening or not. But this one that I'm about to embark on is very intentional and I'm aware of it and pretty excited about it.

I just recently finished reading the book "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp. It's an exceptional book about her personal journey through the lessons that brought her to a place in her life where she could be consistently grateful and content. Which is a HUGE feat. Let me disclaim that I personally HATE her writing style. It's all crazy and choppy and abstract and she straight up refuses to use pronouns like "my" or "his" or use her children's names which drives me absolutely bonkers. But once I got used to her style, I was able to enjoy it. It's like the Christian movie "Fireproof"...once you realize that nobody acting in that movie is about to be up for an Academy Award, you can actually relax and enjoy the story line instead of feeling awkward every time someone speaks.

Without going into too much detail recounting the book, Ann Voskamp basically describes all the ways that keeping a continual awareness of our blessings and maintaining an attitude of thankfulness is like a wellspring of deep joy for ALL situations, even the ones that are crappy. At first I was very skeptical like right, who's going to tackle this giant concept? Who REALLY gets this?? But by the end, I got it. It's like I just had to flip my thinking upside down. Once we realize that we're not OWED anything, we're not entitled to anything, and we don't deserve anything...EVERYTHING becomes a gift. Each moment is a blessing directly from God, even if that moment feels frustrating or annoying or exasperating. It's still what the Lord is choosing to give us and it's up to us to thank Him for what He knows is best.

Of course, that is easier said than done and it's easier in some moments than it is in others.

But even as someone who absolutely LOVES my life, I am so often just trying to make it through the days. Waste time until bedtime. Sometimes the days seem to drag on forever but then all of a sudden a month has gone by and I can't believe it.

Do I love my job as a mom?

Yes.

Do I adore my husband and children more than anything?

Yes.

Do I appreciate my life and my blessings?

Yes.

Do I find it immensely irritating when people ask themselves questions and then answer them?

You have no idea.

But still. I wake up WAY too many mornings just wondering what in the world I'm going to do to pass the time today without two toddlers going crazy in my house. And I hate that. I want to be present in every moment because I know these moments will be gone much too quickly. I want to appreciate my days for whatever they are, whether they're boring or stressful or tiring or crazy. So strategy to achieve that goal is to train my heart to become thankful in every moment and situation by thanking God for every blessing that I notice. I'm going to write them down in a journal (or two or three) and see if I can get to 1,000 (that's what Voskamp does in her book). And my hope is that by the time I get to 1,000 written blessings I will have obtained the heart habit of looking for and noticing God's gifts in the (seemingly) ordinary minutes and hours and days of my life, and therein turning the mundane to the miraculous.

My God is so good. I know that in my marrow, but it's about time I start noticing His goodness even when I'm frazzled and pissed. Can I get an Amen??

Ok, I might as well start right now, publicly. Here are my first five written blessings in no particular order and of no ranking importance:

1) Ella's sweet sweaty curls when she wakes up from a summer nap

2) A cool, breezy morning at the playground with good friends and our many offspring

3) The joy of watching friends' bellies swell with life

4) Buying a pair of size 8 jeans and actually zipping them

5) Smoothies made with fresh fruit from the market

Life is good, is it not? Thanks for taking my first steps with me.

Failure and Change

It's been recently brought to my attention that I am a total failure as a blogger. And I was neither shocked nor offended by this opinion. But let me explain the reason for my failure. The problem is that I am a total stuffer. As in, I stuff my thoughts and feelings so as to avoid drama and tough conversations. My entire upbringing was largely defined by drama and tough conversations, so my instinct is to avoid those shenanigans at all costs. So when it comes to blogging I always just figure that nothing's going on and I have nothing to say.

Well at this point nothing could be further from the truth. Actually, it's maybe 50% truth. EVERYTHING'S going on, and I have nothing to say. Welcome to my life.

Joe always says that the only two descriptive words I have in my vocabulary are "nice" and "good".

"What do you think about these?"

"Nice."

"How was your day?"

"Good."

"How do you feel about American politics with relevance to Christianity?"

"Good."

"What do you think is the solution to all the injustice going on the world today?"

"We should be nice."

You get the picture. So now I will attempt to explain the last 3 months of my life and use slightly more descriptive words to convey my feelings about it.

First, Joe quit his job. He was really good at what he did but it just wasn't his dream. I know this is probably true of most people with the job that they're in, and heck, it's a JOB. The purpose of having a job is to make money to be able to live and support a family. But it doesn't always have to end there. He's got so much talent and I'm continuously impressed by the way his mind works when it comes to business and entrepreneurship. So he talked about quitting for a long time and had made up his mind that he was going to do it but was feeling tentative about when and how. This went on for a few months and finally I just got a little fed up. I thought if he was going to leave me at home with two toddlers every damn day, then he better at least be doing good work! So I told him one morning "I feel like you leave for work every day but you're not actually working or accomplishing anything." And that day he quit. I assumed it was a largely selfish standpoint for me. As a family, we need him to make our income, so of course he should have a job. But I thought he better have a great reason for leaving us every day, not just a hum drum redundant thing.

So now people ask me what his new job is and I have to answer that I don't actually know. God's blessed us so much in that Joe is able to work along side his dad, which is something he's always wanted to do. But he's able to do his "own thing" (which I believe might actually be his job title). He's consulting for a lot of different companies (which I think means that they pay him to give them good advice??) and I know he sometimes sits in an office and then other times he goes to meetings. And I know I get pissed if he's home later than 5pm. I already said I was selfish.

Ok, so that happened. Big change.

Also, we're moving.

One day my sweet crazy husband came home and said "I have some people coming to look at the house at 6:00" (this was at about 4:30). And I said "what do you mean 'look at the house'?" And he said "like to buy it." Right after completely freaking out, I made dinner, cleaned the house, freaked out some more, got really crabby, and then pretended to be a gracious hostess while some people came to look through our house. Long story short, they bought the house and we had to hurry up and find a new one. There are, of course, many reasons why this whole thing actually made a lot of sense and why our marriage didn't crumble over it, but I will spare my lovely readers the details and just ask you to trust me. So it came down to the wire, but we found a new house in time and now we're just waiting to close on both houses. We'll be Penfield residents in about a month! I'm pumped.

Also, we have a baby on the way.

It is not the fruit of my womb, we've talked about this, we're still in the middle of our adoption. Sort of stuck stagnant lately and I don't want to talk about it. But we have a baby on the way and we don't know who and we don't know when and we don't know from where. But we know our God is TRUSTWORTHY and good and this was HIS idea so that is where we rest.

Also, my babies are turning two years old in a few weeks. Oh good grief, how did that happen?? I feel like their first year was definitely the longest year of my life but I don't even know where the last 12 months have gone. It feels so fast and I just want them to stay small forever but alas, they are growing rapidly and talking CONSTANTLY and continuing to capture my heart day by day. They are my sweetest blessing and I am working my dream job by raising them.

So we are in a season of change and unknowing. And honestly, it's good for my soul. I know most people say they hate change but I love it. In addition to the drama and tough conversations which plagued my childhood...that time of life was also characterized by a lot of unpredictability. So I reside very comfortably in an often-changing environment. I actually tend to feel like something is wrong if I've been in the same routine for too long. So I'm enjoying all this for the most part, it's kind of a rush.

And I promise to try to be less of a blogging failure in the future.

Is it possible to be still on a roller coaster?

Ok, I'm going to level with you here. This whole adoption process thing totally blows. I'm exhausted. Right now Joe and I are smack in the middle of our second roller coaster ride of adoption and to be honest, I really thought I was going to handle it better than I actually am.

Our first crazy ride happened back in November and involved the possibility of adopting boy/girl twins who were due at the beginning of January...which would have meant we would have been trying to survive having 4...count them, FOUR...children under the age of 18 months. Which, honestly, we were totally up for. We figured that we just wouldn't leave our house for approximately 3 years but after that we'd be golden. We were actually really pumped about the possibility of it happening. Needless to say it did not work out but it was totally consuming for about the span of a week. It's hard to invest 100% of your wisdom and wishing into something that may possibly turn out to be nothing.

Now we're in the third week of our second crazy ride and we don't really have a lot of answers at the moment. There are a lot of details that I wish I could share but ultimately this story is not yet ours to tell. It belongs to a sweet 18 year old girl in New Jersey who is currently busy being an absolutely super hero and choosing love and life for her baby. It sucks being where we are right now with no knowledge of the direction our lives might take with our next child but I cannot even begin to fathom what it must be like to feel a tiny person kicking inside of you and know that you will never get the chance to hear that baby call you "mama".

There have been times in the past few weeks when I've just looked up at God and told him that I want OFF this ridiculous ride! It's too hard and it's too much and I just want to be in charge of caring for my next baby in my belly and having a due date and being able to paint a nursery exactly one month before it comes and knowing that it will look just like Joe and I. But that's not the path God called us to. He never promised easy. He never promised convenient. He has promised hardship and glory...HIS glory, not mine. "He who calls you is faithful, and he will bring it to pass" (1 Thess. 5:24). I have GOT to keep reminding myself that we've been called to this purpose and now it's just up to Him. But in the meantime, I'm a total basket case.

So if you think of it, could the three of you who are out there reading this please pray for Joe and I as we tread these unknown waters? I understand that we signed up for this, but now we're finding out just WHAT exactly we signed up for and it's pretty rough. And now if you'll excuse me, I will go be still and know that He is God....and then 5 minutes later I'll calm myself down and resolve to do the same thing...and then 5 minutes after that...

Pandora's Box

Yesterday I took an unintentional trip down memory lane. Actually I think it was a trip down something less lovely than a lane...maybe a trip down a dirt road with ruts and rocks and I rolled my ankle a few times as I went along.

I was down in our basement looking around for some things when I stood there looking at one corner of the room piled high with packed boxes. A few years ago my dad found himself in a place where he had lost his job and could no longer afford the mortgage on his house. He didn't know where he'd be going but he knew that he'd soon have to leave the house because the bank was going to take it. Our plan was for him to pack a few things that he absolutely couldn't do without, and then to hold an estate sale, selling off all the rest of the things in the house which would hopefully provide him with enough cash for a few months rent on an apartment yet to be determined. That estate sale was absolutely miserable. Our add in the paper just gave dates and times and said "Everything must go. Make me an offer." (we didn't have time to price tag everything.) We got to his house the first morning and there was a line of people standing at the front door and almost all the way down the driveway. I was terrified and pretty much in a constant state of anxiousness. When we opened the doors, there were people everywhere and we were so overwhelmed and I just wanted to hide in a corner and cry. I felt like we shouldn't be there and this shouldn't be happening. I remember one old, creepy guy holding up a green, one-foot corner shelf thing and asking me how much I wanted for it. I said "I don't know, ten bucks?". And he laughed and then yelled at me like I was nuts, like how in my right mind could I possibly expect him to pay ten dollars for such a piece of junk. That was seriously one of the top five most embarrassing moments of my life (and I do a LOT of embarrassing things) because I just broke down and cried right in the guy's face. It was pathetic.

Ok, so the point is that before the sale from hell, my dad packed SO. MUCH. STUFF. He's a total pack-rat and just didn't want to let go of anything. He packed an entire box of travel coffee mugs and those reusable Big Gulps cups that come with ribbed straws. And an entire box of baseball caps...many of which had 3-foot brims with profanity printed all over them. Never know when you'll need 25 of those babies. At the time, Joe and I had newly moved into our house and we had a whole basement with nothing in it, so we offered to let my dad use our space to store his boxes and some furniture until he found an apartment.

Well yesterday, here I was four years later, looking at all of those boxes full of the things he couldn't live without. They were still completely taped up and I had no idea what was in them because I honestly just never had the energy to open them and look through things that made me relive too many memories, which were just that...memories of a life I once lived and a parent I once had, and which now seemed a million miles and a thousand years away with no binds at all to my current existence. But I tend to be an under-analyzer and sometimes I choose to just do things without thinking too much about them or else I may never do them at all so I started in on opening the boxes. There were lots of Christmas decorations that made me smile and I could picture the exact place in our house where my mom would place them every year. There were a few sets of ugly dishes and some pillows and some blankets. Then there were of course, the big gulps mugs and the baseball caps. A whole box of shoes (most of which were purchased prior to the Ice Storm), and then one box that turned my memory lane into a confusing and difficult to navigate dirt road.

My dad was a city Fire Fighter. And man, when you're a kid, that is just the freekin COOLEST thing anybody's parent can do. And mine did it as his ACTUAL JOB. Playing that card always got me instant respect and street cred as a kid. Sometimes he used to drive a fire truck to our neighborhood and park in right in the middle of the cul-de-sac we lived on so that us and all our friends could play on it (which is totally illegal by the way and I apologize to all city of Rochester residents for this gross misuse of your tax dollars but again, I was 8 and it was awesome). We'd climb the ladder and put on the helmets and honk the horn. In school, my classes often took field trips to my dad's firehouse and by the time I was five I could not only slide down a fire pole fearlessly, but I could climb all the way up one as well and I'd show off my skills. I felt like the absolute center of the universe during those times. I mean, I absolutely beamed with pride. Nobody's dad was a cool or brave or exciting as mine. He might as well have been Superman himself. Up until around the time of the estate sale, I had been a fireman's daughter, it was a giant piece of my identity and I was SO proud of it.

So when I opened the box of all my dad's firefighting paraphernalia, completely covered in dust, it was like a shot to the chest. There were a few dye cast models of fire trucks, and a small porcelain statue of a guy sliding down a fire pole with his pants falling down (typical). There was a big, red, metal box that you would find on the wall of a school or business that has that lever you can pull to sound the fire alarm...that used to be on the wall in our house with a telephone inside of it. I pulled out a few other things and then at the bottom of the box I saw a black helmet with a badge on the front that read "LIEUT 1". Anybody in my extended family would know exactly what that is at first glance. It's my grandfather's fire helmet, which he wore in the city of Rochester in the 40's, 50's, and 60's. I pulled it out and blew some dust off of it and underneath it sad my dad's helmet, a little newer, a little more modern (they added face masks for the next generation) but a little more worn. I couldn't bring myself to pick that one up. But I couldn't believe that I found my grandfather's helmet and that it had been down there all taped up in a box for almost 5 years. I brought it upstairs and washed it off and put it on a shelf in our kids' playroom that holds a lot of family photos from a few generations.

I come from a long line of firefighters. And it's always been something I'm so proud of. But ever since my son was born (who my father has never met, by the way) I cringe every time I see a t-shirt that would fit him with a fire truck on it. It's like I don't want that to touch him because it's no longer something I can call mine. I don't know if that makes any sense. I can't bring myself to reconcile this amazing heritage I have with this current lack of pride I feel in my family situation.

So my son doesn't wear anything that glorifies the heroism of firefighters and my dad's helmet sits dusty in a box in my basement. Maybe it's because my hero let me down. Maybe it's because of the constant twinge of sadness I have in the back of my brain because my son has never met his grandfather. Or maybe it's because 5 years of prayers still haven't brought my dad to a place where he realizes what he's given up and what he's missing. I don't know but either way this is where I am.

And as I type this, I can hear my son giggling upstairs because my husband is pulling some silly antic just to make him laugh. And I can feel my Jesus holding my heart when it hurts. And these are the times when I know that heroes still exist.

The Problem We All Live With

Painting, "The Problem We All Live With" By Norman Rockwell

"Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness." -Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

This is going to sound trite and possibly cheesy, but hear me: my heart breaks for the journey of African Americans in this nation. It truly does. The fight for civil rights over the past 60 years in our country and the deep, sick injustices that have happened here are enough to stop me in my tracks when I think about it. Robert Pierce, the founder of World Vision and Samaritan's Purse said, "Let my heart be broken for the things that break the heart of God." I know that God purposely created humans across the pigment spectrum and I LOVE that about Him. I love His creativity with His people. But I believe that God created ONE race, the human race, and that humans created racism. And THAT breaks His heart. It breaks mine too...I am NOT a crier, and I cry almost every time I think about actual incidents (like riots, and Little Rock, and lynching) let alone have to see them in pictures or videos.

I spent a lot of time yesterday reflecting on MLK and the places that we've been as a country. I see pictures of civil rights walks and sit-down strikes and it makes me sick to my stomach that actual human beings had to fight so hard just to gain the equality that was supposedly a very "self-evident truth" hundreds of years prior. Then I see the white people who stood with them and I hope with everything in me that if I were a grown citizen during that time that I would have been one of those people standing up for what's right no matter what my personal cost was.

Maybe it's hitting home a lot more with me this year because we're waiting to bring home our third child, who will most likely be African American. I have zero intention of making any statement of social justice through our adoption. We're doing this simply because we believe whole-heartedly that it's the Lord's will for our family and we are privileged to be in His will. But I do believe that it's POSSIBLE for us to do this because we're standing on the shoulders of those who fought so hard to abolish ignorance. I could not have more respect for those people, whose names I don't know but whose actions changed the course of a society and of history.

Do you wonder what the greatest injustice of our time is? A while back our book club read the book, Night by Elie Wiesel, which is his memoir as a Holocaust survivor. It was terrifying to me to think that this absolutely huge and disgusting movement could be possible in modern society. What is WRONG with us as humans?? It's unfathomable to think that some people consider themselves so superior to others that they have the right to enslave them, traffic them, tell them where they can or cannot live or go to school, or even to kill them. I think some of the things that future generations will look back on and say were our greatest injustices are child trafficking, abortion, and the lack of legal gay marriage (a VERY touchy subject as a Christian, I know, but I think it's true...call me if you want to get into that one).

I am genuinely afraid to be raising my children in today's society. I think so many things are coming to light and we have come so far in our understanding of the things we're afraid of. But there will always be new dangers and things that arise and new evils that nobody ever knew humans were capable of. I know that as Christians we are to uphold the truth of the gospel but I also know that if we have to err on the side of intolerance or on the side of love...I serve a God who chooses Love. I will teach my children to choose love. Can that be the legacy of our generation? I'd say it's worth dying to try.

"The time is always right, to do what is right." -Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Ps...if you have kids, buy and read them this book.

My To-Live List

I've been thinking so much lately about what I want to do with my life. Like, what I REALLY want to DO with it, what kind of legacy I want to leave, what I want to be able to say at the end of my road that I did with all my time. I think this has come about from a culmination of a few different influences all within the last month. Some are pretty valid and some are embarrassingly simple, but all significant in the complicated inner workings that are my brain. I shall list them for you (in no particular order):

-The new year.

I don't always get reflective and nostalgic and sappy around New Years time but this year I did. I've know too many people fighting for their lives and I have enough poor relationships with family members that I just wanted to reflect on all the important relationships in my life and to realize why they are important to me and how I treat those people.

-Having a new baby on the way.

I constantly think about what my children will say about me when they're explaining their baggage as adults. Like which of their faults will they (rightfully) blame on me or the way that I raised them or the things I failed to teach them? Is it crazy to hope that my kids will never have anything but good things to say about me? The answer...yes, that's crazy Sam. I know. But a girl can hope. So I'm reflecting on how I treat my kids and hoping so much to become a parent that strives for godly excellence...not just a parent that strives to do a little better than my parents did. I think that goal is lofty but worth every ounce of effort.

-Taylor Swift's new album.

Ok, go ahead and laugh at me. She's like 20 but she's wise beyond her years and I don't care what anybody says, I think she's quite a brilliant lyricist (and the songs are so catchy!...I mean, even Joe likes them). Her album is called "Speak Now", which comes from the line they say (or at least used to say) at weddings, "speak now or forever hold your peace". And every song on this CD is like a letter that she's written to someone to say the things she wished she had said in the moment. I feel like this is my life. I NEVER speak in the moment. I'm always afraid to say the wrong thing, afraid of rejection, afraid to apologize, afraid of confrontation. I live WAY too much of my life in fear. That's a fact and a sin. I'm always having conversations in my head with people to whom I wish I'd said a million things but the time has passed. My chance has passed. I didn't "speak now". There's a person in my life that meant a lot to me and I was too confused to treat them with respect, and I'll always regret that. There's a person in my life that I was a terrible friend to and I'm so sorry for that. There's a person in my life who saved me from making a terrible and life-changing mistake and I'm grateful for that. There's a person in my life who helped to save me from myself...well, I actually married that one, so I'm good there :) But I'd like to do more speaking and less regretting with the time I have left on this planet.

-Our latest book club book

Shout out to Dayla Terp for a great choice this month. The book is called "Year of Wonders" by Geraldine Brooks and it's about the plague that struck England in the 1600's. I found it fascinating. Anyway there's a scene in the book (before everyone starts dying crazy and gruesome deaths) where this woman and her children are peacefully playing and all is right in her world and she stops and realizes and says "This, this moment is my miracle." Except it wasn't really anything but a normal day, but she understands that moments of pure happiness, even in the mundane of life can really be a miracle if you let them. I know that sounds like a cheesy Christmas song or something but its true. I live a pretty mundane life. I love it madly but it can get redundant. I want to make it a goal to notice my miracle moments and store them up so that in those times when things get darker or more frustrating or sad or unknown, I'll have those moments and memories to fuel me. I'd also like to give a shout out to the joy of the Lord for fueling me.

-Too many episodes of The Buried Life

"Get busy living, or get busy dying" Duncan always says. Ok, I have no desire to spend every day of my life trying to skirt the law or to hide in a giant cake for 11 hours in order to sneak into the Playboy mansion, but I DO have a desire to get busy living. I think I'd like to do something more important than streaking at a major league baseball game, but I love the idea of having the DRIVE to wake up with the intention of doing something big. Even if that big thing is loving. Like this amazing girl, Katie who lives in Uganda and simply LOVES on everyone the Lord places in her path. That is waking up with a purpose. Loving is a big deal. I mean, so is streaking...but one is just up my alley and the other isn't.

-Reading "A Summer Day" by Mary Oliver

It's like she's just dissecting the things that happen in any normal day. I love it. And the last line of the poem is my favorite and really gets me. It says, "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?". I think most of us have a hard time believing that our lives are either wild or precious, let alone both. I'm starting to think that mine is capable of being both and it's a good feeling.

I'm no slave to lists, but when I get overwhelmed (which happens VERY easily), I depend on lists to get me through my tasks. I think my idea for this year is to begin a "To-Live" list, instead of just always a "to-do" list. I would like to really focus on the way I want to live and the sort of mark I'd like to leave and the things I can do to bring God glory. Lofty indeed, but what else is really worth living for??