He sat close beside me, his arm next to mine. He looked at my white skin and then at his brown skin next to mine.
“I wish,” followed by silence.
I knew what was coming. It’s come several times before and it makes my heart sink every time.
“What do you wish bud?”
“I wish my skin was white like yours.
“Why do you wish that?”
“Because then I wouldn’t get made fun of.”
Just a few days before he asked me if anyone will make fun of him for having a white sister when he’s brown. I knew something had happened yet again. I told him people shouldn’t. He told me people had.
We talked about why he should love his skin. We talked about racism and ignorance and how their is nothing wrong with his skin but there is something wrong with the heart of people who make fun of him for it. We talked about the people who have fought for the rights he has and how people are still fighting for equality for all.
“Is it getting better?” He asked.
“I don’t know bud, we just have to keep trying and you have to keep loving yourself because you are made exactly how God wanted you.”
I couldn’t tell him yes it is getting better because the past few years I have seen more and more of the ugliness of racism happening right where I live. How it is still a taboo subject that makes people angry when it is talked about. I’ve been searching trying to figure out if it is getting worse or maybe my eyes are just being opened more and more because that ugliness is happening to the ones I love the most. The answer makes my heart sink and makes me question what I can do to protect those I love the most. I don’t have that answer but I am searching for it.
Friday, May 10, 2019
Saturday, April 20, 2019
Home at Easter
Home. What does it look like? Is it a place, a person, a group of people? Is it multiple things to you?
I’ve been thinking a lot about home this week and the many things it means. I have an amazing first home full of my favorite things..my husband, kids, and it is beautiful and I am loved here and I love here.
I have an amazing second home. It is extended family, parents, siblings, in laws, nieces, nephews and all the beauty that comes from those people. They love us at our worst and accept us with all our faults.
I have an amazing third home. Friends who have become family. They are the people who come over when life is hard and text and call when you’re feeling down. They come to baseball games, go camping together, and love us with all our quirkiness.
This Easter I had to think of another home. Church has always been a huge part of my life and my husband’a life. Married to a pastor Easter was a big event with lots of celebration and full of people. This year’s Easter looks different to us. We don’t have that church and my husband doesn’t have to spend hours preparing for it, being there early and staying late. So what do we do this Easter? That has been the question.
I have found myself feeling bitter that we aren’t smack dab in the middle of the Easter celebration. We are displaced and on the outside looking in at whatever church we go. I have found myself sad at not knowing where to go and what to do. I have found myself digging deep. How much of my love for Easter was the “event?” How much of my life for Easter was the true joy of celebrating Jesus rising from the dead? I think in the past I loved them both but now, now I focus on what it truly means.
My home this Easter is taking Good Friday to fully reflect on the magnitude of what Jesus did for us. Fully understanding to the best of my ability those three words, “it is finished.” Taking Saturday to feel the emptiness that must have been felt the day between. And tomorrow celebrating the joy of Jesus rising. What a celebration.
Home at Easter isn’t a church. Home at Easter isn’t a church family. Home at Easter is rejoicing in my heart and praising my Savior for what has been accomplished.
So tomorrow I don’t know where I’ll be. I don’t know who I will be surrounded by. But I know where my home at Easter is. It is with my king. Just like it should be every other day.
I’ve been thinking a lot about home this week and the many things it means. I have an amazing first home full of my favorite things..my husband, kids, and it is beautiful and I am loved here and I love here.
I have an amazing second home. It is extended family, parents, siblings, in laws, nieces, nephews and all the beauty that comes from those people. They love us at our worst and accept us with all our faults.
I have an amazing third home. Friends who have become family. They are the people who come over when life is hard and text and call when you’re feeling down. They come to baseball games, go camping together, and love us with all our quirkiness.
This Easter I had to think of another home. Church has always been a huge part of my life and my husband’a life. Married to a pastor Easter was a big event with lots of celebration and full of people. This year’s Easter looks different to us. We don’t have that church and my husband doesn’t have to spend hours preparing for it, being there early and staying late. So what do we do this Easter? That has been the question.
I have found myself feeling bitter that we aren’t smack dab in the middle of the Easter celebration. We are displaced and on the outside looking in at whatever church we go. I have found myself sad at not knowing where to go and what to do. I have found myself digging deep. How much of my love for Easter was the “event?” How much of my life for Easter was the true joy of celebrating Jesus rising from the dead? I think in the past I loved them both but now, now I focus on what it truly means.
My home this Easter is taking Good Friday to fully reflect on the magnitude of what Jesus did for us. Fully understanding to the best of my ability those three words, “it is finished.” Taking Saturday to feel the emptiness that must have been felt the day between. And tomorrow celebrating the joy of Jesus rising. What a celebration.
Home at Easter isn’t a church. Home at Easter isn’t a church family. Home at Easter is rejoicing in my heart and praising my Savior for what has been accomplished.
So tomorrow I don’t know where I’ll be. I don’t know who I will be surrounded by. But I know where my home at Easter is. It is with my king. Just like it should be every other day.
Monday, January 14, 2019
"God please help us get to keep a baby girl"
He didn't give up.
"God please help us get to keep a baby girl."
Every night this prayer was spoken by my stubborn soft hearted son. Two babies came and went and still every night, "God please help us to keep a baby girl." Foster care was explained over and over. We aren't here just to keep the babies, sometimes they just need our help for a little while until they can go to their families. We may not get a baby girl. It could be a boy. He could be older. But still, "God please help us get to keep a baby girl." The first baby left.
Then the second baby came. We had her for longer and she became one of us in every way. We explained over and over that she won't be staying with us. The months turned into weeks until it was time for her to leave, the weeks turned into days until she would leave and still every night, "God please help us to keep a baby girl." Did he not understand? She was leaving. She left. Our hearts were beyond sad. He didn't give up. Every night even after that second baby left, "God please help us keep a baby girl.” He didn't give up.
We thought maybe it was time to stop. Maybe this foster world was to much for our children and maybe too much for us. Boy one and three weren't sure, maybe. But this son, "No! I want to keep getting babies."
Baby girl number three came. We were all sad. We were all tired. We didn't dare pray to keep her. We didn't dare get our hopes up, except that one child. Wasn't it kind of nice to have a break between babies I asked him? "No, we are supposed to have a baby in our house." Every night he kept on, "God please help us get a baby girl to keep." The months went on with baby number three. There was family. She was leaving. We got a date. The time came winding down to a week before she would go. Every night we would pray. Then the prayer stopped. No more "God please help us get to keep a baby girl." The first night I thought he forgot, the second night I realized it was intentional, his heart was broken. I wasn't sure my heart could take anymore breaking, but those prayers no longer being spoken was enough to rip my heart into more shreds. He gave up.
That July day came. We couldn't take it, this was different. One son racing out the door after the case worker, "stop!" we called after him. "I have to give her one more kiss!" He came back in and gutteral groans I have never heard came from his young body. How could we keep on? It was different. The prayers stopped. Our world stopped. One hour later we got a call that she was coming back! "It's a miracle!" one son yelled.
Our nightly prayers kept going and through that miracle we once again heard, "God please help us get a baby girl to keep." Every night. He hasn't given up.
Our fight isn't done. There is still a lot to happen but we are on our way to getting that baby girl to keep. She is our miracle but more than that she is his miracle, she is the answered prayer for my wise son. He didn't give up even when I did. And that prayer is still spoken every night. I can't wait until the day that prayer can be stopped because it was answered in the most miraculous way. May I one day have his faith and belief.
"God please help us get to keep a baby girl."
Every night this prayer was spoken by my stubborn soft hearted son. Two babies came and went and still every night, "God please help us to keep a baby girl." Foster care was explained over and over. We aren't here just to keep the babies, sometimes they just need our help for a little while until they can go to their families. We may not get a baby girl. It could be a boy. He could be older. But still, "God please help us get to keep a baby girl." The first baby left.
Then the second baby came. We had her for longer and she became one of us in every way. We explained over and over that she won't be staying with us. The months turned into weeks until it was time for her to leave, the weeks turned into days until she would leave and still every night, "God please help us to keep a baby girl." Did he not understand? She was leaving. She left. Our hearts were beyond sad. He didn't give up. Every night even after that second baby left, "God please help us keep a baby girl.” He didn't give up.
We thought maybe it was time to stop. Maybe this foster world was to much for our children and maybe too much for us. Boy one and three weren't sure, maybe. But this son, "No! I want to keep getting babies."
Baby girl number three came. We were all sad. We were all tired. We didn't dare pray to keep her. We didn't dare get our hopes up, except that one child. Wasn't it kind of nice to have a break between babies I asked him? "No, we are supposed to have a baby in our house." Every night he kept on, "God please help us get a baby girl to keep." The months went on with baby number three. There was family. She was leaving. We got a date. The time came winding down to a week before she would go. Every night we would pray. Then the prayer stopped. No more "God please help us get to keep a baby girl." The first night I thought he forgot, the second night I realized it was intentional, his heart was broken. I wasn't sure my heart could take anymore breaking, but those prayers no longer being spoken was enough to rip my heart into more shreds. He gave up.
That July day came. We couldn't take it, this was different. One son racing out the door after the case worker, "stop!" we called after him. "I have to give her one more kiss!" He came back in and gutteral groans I have never heard came from his young body. How could we keep on? It was different. The prayers stopped. Our world stopped. One hour later we got a call that she was coming back! "It's a miracle!" one son yelled.
Our nightly prayers kept going and through that miracle we once again heard, "God please help us get a baby girl to keep." Every night. He hasn't given up.
Our fight isn't done. There is still a lot to happen but we are on our way to getting that baby girl to keep. She is our miracle but more than that she is his miracle, she is the answered prayer for my wise son. He didn't give up even when I did. And that prayer is still spoken every night. I can't wait until the day that prayer can be stopped because it was answered in the most miraculous way. May I one day have his faith and belief.
Wednesday, January 9, 2019
We All Need Help
Today in my quiet time I was reading in Exodus 17 about when Israel defeated the Amalekites. Moses held the staff of God in his hand and as long as he held the staff up, the Israelites had the advantage, when he dropped his hand the Amalekites had the advantage. When his arms because too tired to hold up the staff Aaron and Hur found a rock for him to sit on and stood on each side of Moses, holding up his hands. Israel won the battle.
I had to sit and think on this all day. Moses couldn't do this on his own, he knew God was on his side but still he couldn't do this on his own. He needed Aaron and Hur to step in and help. They didn't tell him to be strong and keep going, they didn’t criticize him or question his calling, they didn't try to take the staff out of his hand because he wasn’t doing a good enough job, they held him up.
What if we would step in and do this for each other? What an easier load we would have. What if we let people see the pain that we were going through trying to hold up the staff on our own? How much lighter would our load be?
It's incredibly hard for me to let people in. I can do it in my blog but in person I will be the strong one. I won't ask for help, I will shoulder the load. I think in our culture we take pride in that. We shoulder the load so that we don't appear weak. This isn't how it's meant to be. God wants us to lean on each other, lighten each others loads, and lift each other up. Not trying to take the glory from each other but rejoicing in being able to help someone hold their arms high.
In the past year I have seen my tribe fight for me, hold my arms up when I couldn't do it on my own. I have seen the people who stood by me when others fell away. It has inspired me and challenged me to do better at being that person, being that arm lifter. We all need help!
Exodus 17:12,13 Moses' arms soon became so tired he could no longer hold them up. So Aaron and Hur found a stone for him to sit on. Then they stood on each side of Moses, holding up his hands. So his hands held steady until sunset. As a result, Joshua overwhelmed the army of Amalek in battle.
I had to sit and think on this all day. Moses couldn't do this on his own, he knew God was on his side but still he couldn't do this on his own. He needed Aaron and Hur to step in and help. They didn't tell him to be strong and keep going, they didn’t criticize him or question his calling, they didn't try to take the staff out of his hand because he wasn’t doing a good enough job, they held him up.
What if we would step in and do this for each other? What an easier load we would have. What if we let people see the pain that we were going through trying to hold up the staff on our own? How much lighter would our load be?
It's incredibly hard for me to let people in. I can do it in my blog but in person I will be the strong one. I won't ask for help, I will shoulder the load. I think in our culture we take pride in that. We shoulder the load so that we don't appear weak. This isn't how it's meant to be. God wants us to lean on each other, lighten each others loads, and lift each other up. Not trying to take the glory from each other but rejoicing in being able to help someone hold their arms high.
In the past year I have seen my tribe fight for me, hold my arms up when I couldn't do it on my own. I have seen the people who stood by me when others fell away. It has inspired me and challenged me to do better at being that person, being that arm lifter. We all need help!
Exodus 17:12,13 Moses' arms soon became so tired he could no longer hold them up. So Aaron and Hur found a stone for him to sit on. Then they stood on each side of Moses, holding up his hands. So his hands held steady until sunset. As a result, Joshua overwhelmed the army of Amalek in battle.
Sunday, January 6, 2019
Speak
The Devil is a liar. This is something I have always known but have discovered in a new way in the past year. I have started believing the lies again. The lies that I’m not good enough, I need to stay silent, no one wants to hear my thoughts. I have closed them up in that deepest part of my heart that you don’t let people see.
That is why this blog has stayed silent for so long. I didn’t trust myself or God to speak through me anymore. I believed the lies that this outlet was no longer useful to myself or anyone else. That I was no longer useful.. It may not be useful to others, that I can’t control, but it can be an outlet for me.
I don’t do New Years resolutions but I do set goals. My goal this year is to open myself back up to God and open myself up to whatever passions he gives me. I will choose to follow Him and the callings he places on my life no matter what people say. I will be wise with how I speak and the words I say but I will not be afraid to speak the truth. I will trust God over the world.
I heard a sermon this morning on how to control our big fat mouths which is an invaluable lesson I still need to work on but I have also learned that sometimes the words we don’t say are just as harmful. Not only to others but to ourselves and the value we place on what God speaks to and through us. I will open that deep part of my heart again and allow God to use me in whatever way he chooses.
That is why this blog has stayed silent for so long. I didn’t trust myself or God to speak through me anymore. I believed the lies that this outlet was no longer useful to myself or anyone else. That I was no longer useful.. It may not be useful to others, that I can’t control, but it can be an outlet for me.
I don’t do New Years resolutions but I do set goals. My goal this year is to open myself back up to God and open myself up to whatever passions he gives me. I will choose to follow Him and the callings he places on my life no matter what people say. I will be wise with how I speak and the words I say but I will not be afraid to speak the truth. I will trust God over the world.
I heard a sermon this morning on how to control our big fat mouths which is an invaluable lesson I still need to work on but I have also learned that sometimes the words we don’t say are just as harmful. Not only to others but to ourselves and the value we place on what God speaks to and through us. I will open that deep part of my heart again and allow God to use me in whatever way he chooses.
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