To Pack or Unpack

I read her blog post this morning like I do most every morning. Today, I read it through tears. A night that ended in prayer and tears and hurt, wondering if I'm doing what He's asked of me carried over through her words on the other side of the world. And I couldn't stop sobbing.

Trips to Africa are easy for me. It's the daily grind on the plains of Oklahoma that wears me down. I can hug and love an orphaned child, but patience with my nine year old's laundry strains a mama's nerves all the tighter. Weary and travel worn after international trips leave me fulfilled and brimming with renewal, but find me at the end of a work week and I'm stressed and ungrateful for most everything.  

As I saw the pictures of one of my favorite places today, more than a twinge of malcontent flushed my brain. 

The longing to pack a bag, hop a plane, to return to my second home grew.
 

"I need to be there."

"I need to go."

"I'm best on African soil."

But as he often does, the whisper came. 

It begins at home.
 

Going for you is easy. 
 

It's the here that is hardest.
 

Learn it here.
 

Live it here.
 

Love me here.
 

Love me now. 

It hit harder than I thought. Truth usually does that. I am always better on the go. Staying proves hard for me. Consistency in living love here is a rocky, previously rutted road. 

So how does one daily live out love from behind a desk?
 

A kitchen counter?
 

Under neath piles of laundry?

The more I prayed, the more convicted I became. The list grew long, but short on execution:

Checking on a friend.
A walk through a garden.

 

Putting down my cell phone and playing another game of hide and seek.

 

Encouraging a co-worker who I know is struggling personally.

Continuing to practice the always tough "I'm sorry. Please forgive me?"

Complimenting the lady who served me lunch.

 

Pull out of the drive thru and pull up to our table for a home cooked meal. And yes, hot dogs and cheetos count as "home cooked" some days.

Turning off the T.V. and tuning into my husband's worries and stressors of the week.

 

 

Slowing our pace to where we not only hear each other but that we SEE one another.

 

Learning less about characters I'll never meet and digging more into the character of my children.

 

Continually, consistently, and sincerely giving thanks. "In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you" 1 Thessalonians 5:18

 

Documenting my #1000 gifts, one day at a time.

Writing our sponsorship children letters.

 

 

Closing the shoe sale window and opening up a list of needs of some of our favorite charities.

Writing a check to some of our favorite missionaries-no matter how small I see it to be.

 

Quit flipping through the latest magazine wanting some thing and flipping to the Psalms for what my soul needs.

While each one is small, no great thing was ever big without starting as lesser. Because to someone else, their perspective of size may be opposite of yours. I think that's why in Matthew He tells us to give someone a glass of water. A bucket is too much and a thimble requires too little of our effort. It's about the receiver and the giver, both receiving rewards from the gift and the gift giving. Pouring enough of ourselves into someone else to fill the need, no matter how small we see the need or our action. 

 

"I ask-ask the God of our Master, Jesus Christ, the God of glory-to make you intelligent and discerning in knowing him personally, your eyes focused and clear, so that you can see exactly what it is he is calling you to do, grasp the immensity of this glorious way of life he has for his followers, oh, the utter extravagance of his work in us who trust him-endless energy, boundless strength." Eph. 1:16-19, MSG 

This walk, the journey of grace and love and leaning on Him requires both the going and the staying, knowing when to pack and what to unpack. Rejoicing that someone's going is encouraging me in the staying and praying for the opportunity to return the favor for someone else. 

Praying for you all today, whether your are packing or unpacking, going or staying and praying that you are filled with endless energy and boundless strength to accept and grow in the place where you are.

 

Happy Father's Day

I'm not sure how other men handle years of infertility, struggling, begging God to have a baby.

I don't know how any other man deals with a crazy wife who dreams of adopting, not knowing where that road might lead.

Maybe there are better stories of heroism and bravery, but I haven't heard them.

I know that you held me when the sobs of despair had overtaken me.

I know that you breathed "yes" to adoption before it was every really an option for us.

I know that you followed Jesus day in and day out on our road to becoming a family.

I know we boarded a plane together as 2 and came back as a pack of 4.

I know that from the moment he met you, you were his "person" and he's been attached to you ever sense. 

I know that she sees strength and power in you and she relies on you for that. 

I know that you are teaching her how to be purely loved so that YOU are the standard she judges all other men by.

I don't know how other men handle tough situations in their lives, but I know how you handle yours.

And I couldn't be more honored to have my life validated by having you in it. 

Happy Father's Day to the most pure hearted, amazing Hero I know. 

Old & New Again Friends

I've been blogging for almost 4 years now. 

The kids have been home for over 3. 

Out of all the people in the adoption community we've "met" online and in person, there are still those couples who we think "would love to meet them. Would love to see our kids play togther.", etc.

One of those families is the Briggs family from Colorado Springs.

Through our adoption journey we learned we had a lot in common.

Early 30s. 

No biological children at the time of our first adoption.

And adopted two children at the same time, of almost exactly similar ages.

Our kids were even born in the same region of Ethiopia and

were together at their foster care in Ethiopia for a time.

So imagine our excitement when Juli emailed me and said they would be driving through Oklahoma on vacation and wanted to know if we could meet up for lunch.

We were thrilled.

The Angel has been asking for a sister for years and having her former buddy back for even a short while did nothing to diminish her desire.

What a beautiful short time with old friends who were made new again today.

To Be Loved Well

He's never been overtly kind to our dogs. He likes them and they try to tolerate him, but he's a boy and curious and hyper. And often with them he tries to be the boss. We're blessed both of our dogs are older and have lots of patience. More patience than I do some days.
But things were different when he met my sister's English Bulldog, Edith. I'm not sure if it is the fact that she's big, or whether it's that she mothers him like he's her own baby, but there is something about these two together that is beautiful to watch.
He asks about her all the time. Wants to buy her toys at Target so she'll have something to play with. She follows him every where. Sleeps near him when he sleeps at my sisters and refuses to go inside if he is still playing in the yard.

My sister went out of town last weekend and we were all to glad to have another four legged friend in the house. And The Dinosaur was on cloud 9 when we told him Edith was coming for the weekend.

Sometimes life's best teachers are the ones who never do much talking. The bible tells us that every good and perfect gift is from above and it's funny to think that a dog would be heaven sent, but all you have to do is see them together to know for sure.

Living In Oklahoma...Tornado Season

Since all the commotion in my little home state the past few weeks, I'm getting asked a lot what it's like to live in Oklahoma during tornado season. As I sat with no power Friday night listening to hail and wind and rain pound our house until the early morning, I typed this on my ipad.

In the early part of summer, as the wind whips the plains, the mood in the atmosphere above Oklahoma begins to change. Carefree moments of spring fade and a watchfulness goes up to the sky. Factors once ignored individually are now documented in groups: the wind, the heat, the air and the rain are tracked, calculated and re-assessed.
And we've grown so good at this process, years of sky watching and debating, has made every farmer, lawyer, mechanic; experts in the laws of physics and vortexes and timing.

When the air grows stale, and the Oklahoma heat gives way to a musty, heavy presence, all eyes look up. As the clouds roll in, we roll out our safety measures: shelters packed with food and water, blankets and pillows stuffed in closets and bathtubs. Candles, flashlights, batteries, generators and radios become close at hand. And we wait. And calculate. Tune into our favorite storm tracker as regularly scheduled programming is suspended and prime time is now maps of city streets and local emergency protocols.
And when the air and the wind and the rain and the timing form a perfect, hellacious union, a finger of the sky touches the earth. It begins to spin.
The turbulence and force, wind and rain breed hail and clouds of debri, which uproots trees and demolishes homes. Seconds, minutes, hours rush together and then lull into waiting. Power flashes on then off, on then back off. Candles get lit and flash lights clicked. Board games and coloring sheets are the only entertainment and a radio is the only connection to the outside world.

And all eyes look to the sky.

Things quiet. People come out of the ground, their shelters, their bathtubs.

Assessing what's been lost and whose lost what comes next. Hugs and tears and "thank you Lords" passed out to all, regardless of your status of relationships. Because the morning after a storm is always the most beautiful. Like the arms of a dangerous lover, the fervor of the night before is replaced by the sweet calm of morning. Thankfulness washes anew and the petty things of yesterday are replaced with reminders of the truly important.

And all eyes look to the sky.

It's now that our work begins. Re-building a house or passing out water, its all the same to us. We'll fix our fence, then offer to help you with yours. It is a part of who we are, these storms we've come to expect and respect and deep down we revere this time, this season, because it has formed who we have become. So don't ask us why we live here or why we don't leave. Because the only way to recover from a storm is to face it, prepared. Not run away from it.

- Hugs n Love,

Lindsey

Changing It Up A Bit

So I went through a bunch of weird health stuff a few months ago and through it I learned that I have developed adult asthma. In doing some research and learning about the different things people are allergic to and triggers for those people, I learned a lot about how many people are making a lot of their own daily products at home. I was intrigued so I thought I would try something we use every day and make it.
I found a "recipe" for homemade body wash on Pinterest, because well, we go through soap and body wash around here like we're made of the stuff.
The ingredients were really simple.

1 gallon of water
8oz bar of soap
2 tbs of glycerin
Grate the soap like cheese.

Add the water and the grated soap to a stock pot and dissolve the soap into the water over low heat.

Remove from heat and allow it to sit for 10-12 hours.
Once it sat overnight, the instructions said to take a hand mixer and mix the pot until it is thick.
Then add to a gallon container.
Mine never really got thick. It just looked like cloudy water. I went ahead and added several drops of lavender essential oil and changed the containers in our showers to the new stuff.

The family said that they were not that impressed. It was really fluid and never really soaped or foamed, so they felt like they were using twice as much as normal. But at under a $1 for the whole mix, they are going to use it until it runs out!
Oh well, maybe I'm not so domesticated after all, or maybe Pinterest is wrong as much as it is right.
- Hugs n Love,
Lindsey

All Days Should Be That Good

For Easter, the kids got their own fishing poles and bait kits. What can I say? It's what they get for being adopted by really outdoorsy people. They were mesmerized and although we have had two opportunities since for them to use their poles, The Hero and I decided that for Memorial Day, we would not disappoint them. We'd make an entire day of fishing.
Only one problem.
We had no idea where to go.
Some friends of ours have an amazing property not far from us, but like most good friends, it's been too long since we've seen them. We called and asked if we could bring the kids out to fish and they were elated. Due to all our recent rain, there had been no time to weed out the perch fish from the pond. Apparently, perch fish eat the eggs of other, more desirable fish. So perch fishing it was.
The Hero and I headed to the store for bait and picnic snacks.
Mommy got REALLY side tracked when we stopped by a local farm and bought produce...I may or may not have filled up the back of our car with flowers, veggies and fruit to plant in our back yard. The kids were allegedly DYING to go fishing, so I crammed the remaining treasures in our car and off we went.
Their poles weren't in the water 30 seconds before both of them had caught fish. For almost three hours, The Hero baited the hooks, Mommy wore the glove to remove the fish from the hooks and tossed them on the bank. The Angel caught almost 50 fish!




She squealed and giggled and yelled "I CAUGHT ONE. I CAUGHT ONE."
Every.
Single.
Time.





It was so much fun.






And all the while, The Dinosaur acted tough and brave.
But he still didn't want them too close to him once they were pulled from the water.

We laughed and played and drove home exhausted. They were filthy and fishy and we recounted the catches of the day.




The Dino was asleep before his body was dried off from his bath. The Angel snuggled up to The Hero and whispered "Every day should be that good."
They were both asleep before 7:30, so The Hero and I made a light dinner and poured glasses of wine and snuck out to the patio to toast the day.

Yes Angel, every day should be that good.

- Hugs n Love,

Lindsey