Am I Really the Fun Mom?  4

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I posted a picture of the kids and I on the last week of summer.  It looked fun and like I love to play with my kids.  Which is true, to a certain extent.  But I have to tell you that it took me a good long while to get to that point.

The last weeks of summer were a struggle for me.  We had so much fun and did lots of great things, but I just ran out of energy at the end.  As an introvert, it gets really hard for me to have noise all day, both in the forms of talking (so. much. talking.) and the inevitable mess that three active kids bring.  And while I love my kids beyond words, I find it difficult when I don’t have some margin to my days.   So we got to the end and we were just all needing a little structure and space.

A man had come to give a quote on cleaning our carpet a few days earlier and his visit was a surprise to me (Read as: I hadn’t vacuumed for a reeeally long time.  I mean, is there a point?).  I did my best to hold on to my dignity and pretend the state of my house didn’t bother me… but at the end I asked what they would need when they came to clean.  In my mind, I was thinking he would tell me what furniture I would need to move.  Instead he said, “Well, it would help if you’d vacuum first.” Oops.

So that little encounter plus the fact guests were coming put a little fire under me and soon I was lecturing the kids on how we needed to CLEAN THE HOUSE NOW!  I was very clear and very passionate.  Everyone made eye contact and I banned the use of any electronics.  I was not messing around.

I finished my amazing speech, turned and went to take a shower.  Twenty minutes later, I emerged, ready to tackle every surface with their help…. and I found the kids had taken over the entire living room.

There were fortresses made of furniture, pillows and blankets. Sounds of nerf guns and the whizzing of bullets past my head made me quickly realize that perhaps my speech on cleaning hadn’t been as effective as I thought.

At that moment I knew I had a decision to make.  There are a million moments I make the wrong decision and I’m slowly learning from them.  I want to be proactive in my parenting instead of reactive.  My goal is to be invested and connected, not just reacting to what irks me.

So I stepped back.  I went back to the bathroom and dried my hair; put on makeup.  It gave me a few minutes to evaluate what I knew I’d see when I walked back out to the war zone.  Often I react to the situation in ways that don’t show my thankfulness for my kids.  I treat them like they’re a nuisance, selfishly.  It’s not my intent, it’s not what I desire, but it’s something I just do out of instinct.

Often in the Old Testament, God expresses his angst over the Israelites.  In fact, in Ezekiel 20:22, He says, “I seriously considered dumping my anger on them, right there in the desert.  But I thought better of it and acted out of who I was, not by what I felt, so that I might be honored and not blasphemed by the nations who had seen me bring them out.” (The Message)

Oh, let me tell you just how much I can relate to dumping my anger.  Just the normal, dailyness of being a parent can bring me to my end faster than you could believe.  As I add more years on to my life, though, I’m realizing I need to react out of who I am, not by what I feel.  There’s such a difference and I can’t do it on my own.  I need my Savior to help me navigate the deep trenches of parenting, because I get to the end of myself justlikethat.

When I walked out of the bathroom, the kids had cleaned up their forts.  The guns were put away and only a few stray bullets were scattered around.  “Get everything back out,” I said.  I had to repeat it several times to get them to understand.  They screamed and jumped and asked if I was serious.  We set up our zones on either end of the room– Eliza and me on one side, Will and Kate on the other.

And then the war commenced.  We laughed, we tried to come up with the best strategy.  We discussed how many “lives” we could have and argued if our darts counted.  At the end, I was losing my voice from yelling and laughing.

It was my best decision and I wish I’d make it more often.  Because the house eventually got cleaned and all was well… but we also made a great memory.

You know what?  I like who I am when I’m the fun mom.  So do they.

May you act on who you are today, not by what you feel.  May you realize that this journey of parenting is as much about you as it about them.  May you give yourself grace when you get it wrong— and celebrate when you get it right.  And above all, may you realize that your strength as a parent comes from Christ, who blessed you with these precious lives in the first place.

 

Recommended resource: Intentional Parenting by Sissy Goff

Hold Tight; Hold Loose  1

 

IMG_8790I, like much of the world, cannot get the image of little Aylan, lying on the shore of a Turkish beach, out of my mind. I cry whenever I see footage of the refugees, feeling so hopelessly far away to do anything.

I’ve learned to pay attention to my tears and so I’ve been thinking about them as I pray.

It seems that the death of this sweet boy is changing the world, transforming what so many have seen as simply a nuisance. One heartbreaking photograph has awoken us to the tragedy that these people– with histories and families and anguish of a world turned upside down– deserve to be treated as guests, not as dispensable.

And I wonder how it feels to his father, who lost both of his sons and his wife while trying to bring them to safety. What it must be like to know that a world is staring at his sweet boy’s lifeless body on the shore of the sea.

Whenever we share Annie’s story, a battle ensues in my heart. I want so much to hold her close to me, to treasure my memories and what little time we had with her. I don’t always want to share her. What we had was so short and in my selfishness I want to keep it all to myself.

But something happens when we share her… when we allow God to redeem our pain and work in the lives of other people. I find that it doesn’t diminish the gift of her life, but it strangely expands it. It’s unexplainable and you’d think that after almost six years I’d be quicker to share, quicker to let go of my desire to gather it all close to me.

I fully realize that little Aylan may be the catalyst to save the lives of millions in an unbelievable crisis. I see how God uses what is viewed as the weakest among us to do powerful things.

But behind it all, I see a father in the deepest of griefs. I can imagine the pain and cost that comes with the family he has lost.

Last week Peter shared our family’s story in his sermon. It’s been awhile since he’s done it and I was so anxious the whole morning. I knew it was the right thing for him to do, however it just doesn’t get any easier. I texted my friend after the service saying I’m glad God uses our story… but I just wish it was someone else’s story.

The weight of carrying something so precious is unbearable sometimes. I get stuck weighing out the pros and cons. The death of little Aylan may save countless lives, and the impact of those photographs will circle the world. But underneath it all is a father, who will live with unbelievable grief for the rest of his days. He will carry those photographs like none of the rest of us will. For us, we see just a photo. For him, a million memories and a shattered heart.

In a small way, I understand. I vacillate between the why questions and the aha moments. There are times when I look at our story and am in such awe God would trust us with Annie’s life, with sharing this story and experiencing the amazing ways He is changing others through someone who couldn’t even speak or walk. And yet, I miss her so. When the school year starts, when we take a family photo, in a million little and big ways I’m reminded of the gaping hole in our family.

So today, I am praying. For those beautiful, amazing people who are fleeing for their lives. Their faces make me weep. And I am praying for Aylan’s father, who must hold lightly to his son who has captured the world in his death. In his deepest of grief, may he have the courage to see that God can use the smallest to bring rescue.

Come, Jesus. Oh, how we need You to bring peace to our chaos and joy to our sorrow.

(The Bible is clear about the importance of bring justice to the oppressed. We, as the Church, have to act.  Ann Voskamp has an excellent list of ways you can help.)

Just Keep Walking {let’s talk about reading the Bible}  0

 

IMG_9204If you were to peek into my window at 6:30 a.m., you would likely find me on the couch, with a blanket and coffee, and my Bible open on my lap, preparing for the day ahead (Please don’t actually peek in my window. That would be freaky).

Why would I tell you that?

Because I want you to know that having a daily, predictable time with Jesus every day is so important to me. It orders my day, grounds me, and makes a difference in the way I respond to others. When I start off my day with Jesus, my anxiousness melts into peace and I can shift my focus away from my self-centeredness to compassion for others. He gently takes my sorrow and replaces it with joy and hope in a way no one else can.

Staying connected does not come easy to me, but it’s a discipline I continually have to work on. Once a week, my phone buzzes and I pull up Jesus Calling (it’s comes in book form or as an app). Side note: One time one of Kate’s friends was playing a game on my phone when my reminder flashed on the screen. With the widest eyes you’ve ever seen she came to me and said, “Miss Sarah, Jesus is calling your phone!” Ha!

Last week I read this:

“Keep walking with Me along the path I have chosen for you. Your desire to live close to Me is a delight to My heart. I could instantly grant you the spiritual riches you desire, but that is not My way for you. Together we will forge a pathway up the high mountain. The journey is arduous at time, and you are weak. Someday you will dance light-footed on the high peaks; but for now, your walk is often plodding and heavy. All I require of you is to take the next step, clinging to My hand for strength and direction.“

 

IMG_9190I was taught early on the importance of dedicating the first minutes of my day to Jesus. I have scores of memories of retreats and youth group outings where we would begin our days spread out in corners and bunks, our Bibles open, our eyes closed, dedicating our days and lives to whatever Jesus had for us. Those seeds were planted deep and I am so grateful. But I mistakenly thought that each day would bring the light-footed moment if I did… an insurance policy to have a great life. I didn’t understand the days that seemed plodding and heavy, so I would think that something was wrong with me. Eventually, I decided that opening my Bible and talking to Jesus every day was overrated. Didn’t He understand how busy the days were with diapers and feeding and disciplining and cleaning up messes? I would be okay to put my daily practice on a shelf, I thought.

Boy was I wrong. Jesus doesn’t want us to spend time with Him just because it’s the “right choice”. He desires time with us to focus and build a relationship with Him. I need Him so desperately in my life. I need wisdom and direction, a way to know that my feet are walking in the right direction. On the good days, the bad days, the in-between days, when I take the time to develop my relationship with Him, I can see how He is working and teaching and changing me.

IMG_9197As I write this blog post, I’m sitting in the library parking lot, waiting on my kids. The library is across from a daycare and I watch the little toddlers toddle back and forth to the playground, putting one chubby foot deliberately in front of the other. Didn’t we all learn to walk the same way? Slowly at first, but determined to get a little better each day? Shouldn’t it be the same for us as we grow in our relationship with Christ?

David writes in Psalm 16:7, “I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me.” When the truths of Jesus are on our hearts and in our minds, we begin to see the next right steps as He guides us. Eventually we realize that our chubby little legs are much stronger than we thought… we can indeed walk, even run, for longer distances.

If you’re new on this journey, it’s hard to know where to start. The Bible seems intimidatingly long and ancient. Lots of years into this thing and I still sometimes feel the same way. In fact, writing this post seems so overwhelming to me because I feel I am so far from where I desire in this area. The last thing I want to communicate is I have this figured out. But I also know if I waited to be perfect, well, it would never come.

If you were to peek at me on the couch (but not really, because remember? Freaky), here are my favorite ways to read my Bible:

  • One little chunk at a time– maybe a Psalm, or a chapter in the New Testament. Every morning when I get up and every night before I go to bed, I read the same thing. Over and over, maybe for a week or two. Slowly, I see new things– patterns or truths start to pop out as the words become familiar. I read it out loud, I underline, I think about it throughout the day. And it nestles into my heart and comes alive to me.
  • Read through the whole thing. Yes, the entire Bible… but it takes me a whole year. Right now, Shereadstruth.com has a plan that helps to keep me on track (And oh, there are so many great resources on this website!). The game changer for me was to read it in my own hardcopy of the Bible. I like to read the Bible on my phone (youversion is a great app) for sermons or for looking up a quick verse, but I’ve found I don’t retain as much when I’m just scrolling. When I switched to holding my actual Bible, highlighting verses with a real pen, it changed everything.
  •   The first half of Jen Wilkin’s podcast is so helpful if you have deeper questions about how to read the Bible and why it matters. Her whole study of Joshua is free, and would be a great… But I really resonated with her “nuts and bolts” explanation of how to read the Bible.

Keep walking. It’s not always easy to know what the next right step is, but connecting with Christ daily means that you will have a foundation to stand on, no matter what the day holds.

IMG_9225P.S. There’s more to a relationship with Christ than just reading the Bible. In the next few weeks, let’s tackle some other things together, okay?

P.S.#2 I’m dying at these pictures of when Eliza learned to walk. I have the sweetest kids!

Slowing Summer  0

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Every few minutes I hear a ball thunk against the roof.  Kate got home from camp today and while she and William pretend they didn’t miss each other, their actions show otherwise.  Right now they are constructing a rule-laden game that involves a sky ball being thrown on the roof, to be caught by a certain person after a certain number of bounces.

Eliza bounced out of the house and is playing in the hammock, chatting to herself and probably singing about sin… or grace.  I’m telling you, the theology that comes out in her made up songs cracks me straight up. (One of my favorites: “My sister sinned.  My sister sinned.  But she can ask for forrrrgivenessss”)

The dishes from dinner are still on the table and the kitchen looks like a hot mess.  Until you check the living room and then it suddenly doesn’t look so bad.

We’re on week two of summer around here.  This summer, well, we hit the ground running and it feels like we haven’t had a moment to breathe.  Sure, it’s been fun.  Camping, a trip to the beach, a full freezer of fresh strawberry jam, a week of Vacation Bible School and lots of ice cream and baseball.

 

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As Peter and I collapsed into bed last night reviewing yet another week of jam packed schedules with no end in sight, we decided we just couldn’t do it.  So we cleared our schedules a bit.  Not a lot… but a bit.  And it’s amazing what a little breathing room can do.

The balance of summer is tricky.  I love it when the kids are home for long days, but it exhausts me more than I want to admit.  I miss my quiet afternoons to recharge. The pressure to entertain them with outings and treats sometimes feels overwhelming to me.

If there’s one thing I’m learning about being a good mom it’s that I need a good dose of margin in my days and weeks.

Margin.  It’s the white space around the words on my blog.  It’s the edges of the book you’re reading.  Imagine if the words went all the way to the edge of the screen.  You’d have a hard time training your eyes to jump to the next line.  You’d end up jumbled and frustrated.  Isn’t that the way it is with life?  If I schedule and schedule and let my kids think they’re entitled to be entertained every moment of the summer, we end up with no white space in our lives.  I have overtired and cranky kids, no chance to do something spontaneous and fun, and  a messy house that leaves me feeling frazzled.

Building in margin may mean I say no to a few things in order to say yes to the most essential things.  It means I’m looking at the big picture of our lives instead of letting the little things lead us into existing for today.

“But don’t begin until you count the cost. For who would begin construction of a building without first getting estimates and then checking to see if he has enough money to pay the bills? Otherwise he might complete only the foundation before running out of funds. And then how everyone would laugh!
“‘See that fellow there?’ they would mock. ‘He started that building and ran out of money before it was finished!’ (Luke 14:28-30)

I have eight summers left until William turns eighteen.  Realistically, I realize those last few summers will be spent with friends, in and out, so the number is probably even less than that.

These years are the foundation of our kids’ lives.  I’m reminded now, more than ever, in parenting I have to project out, to imagine the end, as we live out these days.  And it’s hard.  HARD.  But above all, I want to be intentional with my kids and with my time.  I don’t want to fill my time with so many mindless activities that I get to the end of their childhoods and realize that I didn’t count the cost of these years.

So we build in margin.  We fight for blank space in our calendars.  We teach them to be and not always do.  We make mistakes and go to bed too late… but in the morning we get up and try all over again, striving to keep the end in sight.

Cheers to summer!

 

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A Post about Kate.  0

I remember those first weeks of newborn fog and the overwhelming amount of care that my kids needed.  When I thought I couldn’t spend one more night getting up and down, one more day nursing and changing endless diapers, it would happen…. my baby would smile.  A small reward for the past weeks, just when I needed it most.

I’ve noticed the trend as the kids have gotten older.  As the weariness sets in and I’m tempted to think I’m just not cut out for this Motherhood, I adjust my glasses, I look up and around and I see the blessing of these years, of this work.

Easter Sunday, Kate was baptized.  She had casually mentioned it, talked to her dad and to our other Pastor and we started to get ready.  She had a slew of special people that she invited and we were all so excited to add something extra to Easter this year.

We asked Kate who she would like to help baptize her.  She was able to choose someone who has helped her in her life and has made an impact on her.  She chose her brother.

And then.

Then, she had to write her testimony.  I was going to help her because I knew it would be overwhelming for her to do at eight years old.  But then one day, she emerged from her room with a piece of paper with her sweet handwriting on it and I burst into tears.

“My name is Kate Damaska and I am 8 years old.  I was about 4 or 5 when I became a Christian. When I became a Christian I was down in the basement with my mom. I prayed with my mom and she taught me how to invite Jesus into my life.  So now I can show my kids when I am older how to invite Jesus into their lives.  Thank you to all my church leaders, teachers, and parents for teaching me the Lord’s word.  I now want to be a missionary like my mom and dad.  I want to go to Haiti with my mom and build a church that is strong enough to include everyone.”

It was like that newborn baby smile.  Just at the time I wonder if my kids are even listening, if we’re going to make it through these years of elementary/preadolescence (which is awesome, by the way, but also hard), I am reminded that there is hope.   There is blessing and there are gifts and even though Kate was the one who was baptized, I may have had the biggest smile as the tears ran down my face.

The Regret of not Doing  0



“Your Cross-Grace is enough to cover not only the hard things that we wish we had never done, but also the good things that we wish we had got done, the things that can weigh heaviest of all.”

I was in line behind her at Chipotle.  She was a single mom, hardly old enough to live on her own.  Her toddler girl was gorgeous, with wide eyes and curly black hair pulled back.  She babbled and laughed.

She was sitting in her infant car seat and I knew that she was easily six months over the age limit.  Her legs had grown too long and loped over the end, her ponytail resting over the top.  And I was heartbroken for a few reasons.  Was there anyone in the mom’s life to help her navigate things like carseats and potty training and what foods are best?  Did she even know that her baby wasn’t safe in her seat?  Did she have the resources to get what she needed for her girl?  Either way, it pulled at my heart.

We got our food and as I took my first bite, I discovered our table was situated in a place so that every time I looked up, I caught the little girl’s eye and she would smile at me.  She was so happy.  The mom and her friend were chatting, and she would give her little girl a bite of her food every few minutes.

I wanted to encourage her, to tell her that being a mom is hard but the joy in her daughter’s eyes told me that she was doing a great job.  I felt like Jesus was gently prodding me to hand her some money, to tell her to go out and buy a new car seat for her toddler, no strings attached.

Guess what?

I wimped out.  I totally did not do it.  I even talked to Peter about it and he told me I should.  I knew where she had parked, so I could’ve put the envelope on her windshield and she never would’ve known.  But I didn’t want to offend her.  I didn’t want her to think she was a bad mom by suggesting that she wasn’t taking care of her daughter.  And I was scared. I came up with every excuse I could think of until it was too late.

“By entering through faith into what God has always wanted to do for us—set us right with him, make us fit for him—we have it all together with God because of our Master Jesus. And that’s not all: We throw open our doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand—out in the wide open spaces of God’s grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise.” Romans 5:1-3

I could fill a book on the things in my life that I should’ve done and didn’t do.  I wonder why after all these years I still struggle with doing what I know Jesus is asking me to do.  What is it that I’m so afraid of?

“We repent and give to You things we wish we had never done and pray for grace to cover the things we wish we had done”

I can’t go back.  I can’t undo.  But that doesn’t mean I have to live in regret.  And so I put down my regrets, I repent of them and I pick up the cross— the weightlessness of the Grace of Jesus– because He has set me right with Him.

And I pray that the next time I will be braver.

What regrets do you carry?  What do you wish you’d never done; and what good things have you left undone?  Today, refuse to let your heaviness keep you from the foot of the cross.  No matter what you have done or where you find yourself, you belong in the wide open space of God’s grace.

**Words in italics are taken from Ann Voskamp’s “Lent to Repent” cards (Yeah, I know Lent is over. It’s just that we’re always running about a week behind.  Ha.)

Why Grieving is Not Hopeless  1

Shortly after we buried our baby, Annie, I turned thirty. She was six months old when we discovered she had a massive brain tumor.  She died just four days later. The morning of my birthday I was with a group of women who didn’t know our circumstances of the past months, but they somehow found out it was my birthday.  As they were saying all the things that acquaintances say to one another on birthdays, one older lady reminisced, “Oh those were the best years of my life.  I was knee deep in babies then.”
I felt like I had been punched in the gut.  Because for me, the terrifying, overwhelming grief I felt at that point was so new, so raw that I felt like I was drowning.  Along with the death of Annie was the death of what I had imagined my life would be like– the happy wife and mother of three. It had been so perfect. But instead of baby-proofing the house, I found myself buying depressing cemetery flowers and collecting books on death.
…. You can read the rest of my post here.  If you’re in a season of grief today, may you know that you are not alone.  Jesus promises to tenderly care for you.

Handson & Clairlande {and how I’ve fallen for haiti}  1

Remember that time I left to Haiti with only a few days notice and then I didn’t write about it for almost two months? Oops.

It was a great trip.  No, better than that.  It was awesome.  Returning within six months of my first trip meant that the memories were still fresh, the people were close in my heart.  It was just good.

And a wedding!  Are these not the two most beautiful people in the world?  Watching the excitement that so many others had for Handson and Clairlande was contagious.  I spent the day of the wedding watching the bridesmaids painstakingly get ready.  They dressed the little girls a full THREE HOURS before we left for the church and then told them to sit… and they did!  They were handed a plate of food and those sweet girls ate every bit without spilling it on their dresses.  AND THEN, they handed Little Mama (that’s what they call her, bless her heart) a pillow with the ACTUAL RINGS and she held on to them all the way to the church and for the ceremony until it was time to give them up.

During the wedding my friend and I noticed a few people with their phones taking pictures.  As the time got closer and closer to the kiss at the end, more and more people kept coming forward to get pictures…. until we could no longer see the Bride and Groom! People were on the stage, squeezing in as close as they could get in order to snap a picture of the main event.

Afterward we gathered for the reception, which was just people crammed in a tiny room where everyone got a spicy tuna sandwich wrapped in a white paper napkin.  (Which, by the way, was the moment that the stark contrast of weddings in the United States hit me the deepest).

In a country where there is so much to grieve, so much that brings tears to my eyes, it was amazing to be a part of something so joyful.  To see how others celebrated these two, to watch how deeply they were able to rejoice…. it was good for my soul.

Once upon a time when I had such little kids, I wondered if my dreams of going to other countries and experiencing how God is working in our world would ever come true.  I often felt restless and stuck.  Being a Mama has always been my biggest and best dream; I was happy to be with my children and content with raising them… but in the back of my mind, I was eager and longing to go.

Flying to Haiti not one, but two, times in the past six months has been a sweet gift from Jesus.  And the fact that I was able to pull off travel plans, packing, arranging child care and a million details in just a week is a miracle in itself.  I am so thankful for ways that Jesus gives us the desires of our heart.

I’m fairly certain that I’m not going to be able to quit Haiti.  I’ve fallen hard for the people, for the beauty, even for the heat.  My heart breaks for the poverty, for the tragedy that every Haitian carries in their hearts.  And yet the way they love Jesus without abandon, the trust and hope they have in Christ challenges me deeply.  In their brokenness, they have taught me so much.

Congratulations Pastor Handson and Clairlande!  You may have been the ones to get married, but your day was a lovely gift I’ll always remember.

Five Dollars on Annie’s Birthday  5

March 9 was Annie’s sixth birthday.

Knowing how to celebrate Annie’s birthday is always such a tricky thing in our family.  Believe me, I have to fight the urge to just ignore the whole thing— because celebrating it takes effort and gearing up and memories that are hard.  Actually, on the day of Annie’s birthday, I talked Peter into letting me clean his church office.  As in spend the whole day going through papers and dusting shelves and trying to keep Eliza from bugging our assistant Pastor all day.  See?  I was avoiding.

But avoiding takes away beauty that’s hiding right behind my brokenness.  Not celebrating what we’ve been handed, however hard it is, makes me bitter and inward.  

There’s something about her birthday that makes it so hard for me.  Maybe because she was never old enough for me to know what her favorites would have been— what she would like for dinner or what her favorite cake would be.  I don’t get to put up the banner and light the candles.  This year she would have been six— SIX!— and I’ve been watching all her little friends have their birthdays in their kindergarten classrooms and for some reason, it just knocks me back.  Six seems so old, so long ago since I looked in her eyes and felt her soft skin.

But we’ve learned a lesson sure and without fail— the best thing to do is to use our pain, to not just let it settle deep and sad, but to instead find a way to be thankful for the ways Jesus allows us help others in our grief.  It takes the sting out of suffering, remember?  

So the kids had the day off on Friday and we loaded up and went to the place we always go… the city where we said goodbye to her in the hospital.  (You’d think we’d hate going there, but no, we love it.  I know it’s weird) We spent the day doing things we have made into traditions without even meaning to— having a treat at the cupcake store, going to the bookstore and picking out a brand new book.  We went out for dinner with our dear friends and spent the night crammed in a hotel room made for two people.  We laughed a lot (and we also disciplined a lot, but let’s just let that memory slip away, shall we? Nevertheless, you should know that there were plenty of “those moments” during the weekend.)

In between the fun and crazy, we planned to do something we’d never done before.  We packed a whole bunch of $5s, $1s and little envelopes.  We stuffed money in the envelopes and wrote on the outside, “Finders keepers!  Have a great day!”  Whenever we felt like leaving an envelope somewhere… we did.  There was no rhyme or reason to it, no expectations on how much we would leave.  We just did it.  And we had a total blast.  Kate left one in a mug with the name “Kate” written on it.  We left several in a little courtyard where university students were constantly walking to and from class.  We’d watch from the car and go crazy when we thought someone was going to kneel down and pick it up.  Seriously, you should do it sometime.  So fun.  We bought a cupcake for the lady next in line at the cupcake shop and we gave $20 to the sweet girl working up a sweat trying to keep the “free breakfast” at our hotel stocked.

All the money that we wish we could have been spending on a little girl turning six, we instead used to brighten the day of several strangers.  Honestly, we could’ve spent that money on a million different things.  We could’ve spent her birthday at home being sad.  It certainly would’ve been easier and probably less dramatic (seriously, our kids can fight at the tiniest thing), but it wouldn’t have been as joyful.

Choosing to redeem our grief into something that will help others will never come back empty.  Jesus uses every single little hurt, every single little thing for His glory.  Even if it’s giving a stranger $5.  Or paying for a Mom’s cupcake (we found out she had just dropped off her daughter on campus).  Or letting someone know that their job is not unnoticed.

Also, it’s a blast.

P.S. We do our best to do something for others every year for Annie’s birthday.  One year we took a package to the nurses who cared so tenderly for her.  Last year we made bracelets for a maternity home in Kenya.  We’ve taken a load of books for kids who have cancer.  If you’re facing a hard day, maybe taking a deep breath and doing something for others is just what you need to get through the day.

A Daring Adventure  0

Wednesday morning I got this text:

”Hellloooo!  When you get your kids off to school and have a minute will you call me?  Nothing bad, just crazy… want to see if you can go to Haiti with me next week.  WHAT??!”


I’m a homebody, logical, a planner.  I like to have adventures, but this time of year is busy and, hey, I have lots of kids and they have a lot of stuff.


So of course, I choked and I called my friend as soon as I could.

……. And I told her yes.


Which means that tomorrow (Tuesday), I’ll be boarding a plane to Haiti.  I’ll be there until Saturday.


(This is the part of the story that my friends look at me in utter disbelief, because they know me and how totally out of character this is for me.)


We’re going to a wedding of a Haitian pastor we love…. which, by the way, is better than the funeral I attended last time I was there.  I don’t know a lot of details, and really, that’s okay.  All I know is that as God shapes my life and I try to live with my hands wide open, He sends me these incredible surprises.


My friend, Neile, the sender of the first text, is going to be the Matron of Honor at the wedding.  She is as planned and organized as I am.  The fact that we are going together, last minute, is pretty hysterical.  But we have the greatest husbands, who encouraged us.  Peter’s first reaction was excitement… “Why not?”  he said.


Neile found herself in a bridal shop a few days ago, trying to find a dress in January.  She wrote to me in the dressing room: “Just wanted you to know I’m in a big bridal store surrounded by all these young girls, gathering beige dresses to try on and I’m thinking MY LIFE IS GETTING SO WEIRD.”


Helen Keller said, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing at all.”  I’ve been smiling to myself as I make lists, plan childcare, and try not to panic.  When we say yes to God, the way He leads us is unbelievable and amazing.  I’m not sure what this next week will hold.  But my eyes are open and my heart is ready for wherever He leads me.