Lent Decision

I'm going to memorize the Matthew account of Jesus death and resurrection, starting at Matthew 27:31 and ending at Matthew 28:10.  It's not short.  46 verses.  Ash Wednesday till Easter Sunday is 47 days.  It's going to really tough, I suspect.  But also really rewarding, if my Advent experience was any indication.  On Easter Sunday, I hope to type the whole passage out on here.

Lord, grant me the perseverance to stick with this idea and see it through to the end.  I want to honour you and prepare my heart for Easter by steeping myself in this tragic and tremendous story.  I want to be blessed by hiding your word in my heart.  Thank you, Jesus, for what you did for me.  May it touch me in a new way this Lent season.

Lent Search, Part 4

John 19:16 - 20:9

35 verses long

- carrying his own cross?

- no Eloi, Eloi...

- focus on dividing up his clothes

- focus on piercing side and not breaking bones

- prophecy fulfillments

 I didn't love this one like Matthew and Mark.

Lent Search, Part 3

Luke 23:26 - 24:12
43 verses long

Storyline:
- Simon of Cyrene
- other two criminals
- This is Jesus, King of the Jews
- "into your hands I commit my Spirit"
- centurion believed
- burial by Joseph off A
- women with spices
- angels appear
- Peter

Noteworthy:
"Father, into your hands I commit my Spirit"
"I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise"
*no Eloi, Eloi...

Too long, compared to the other options

How my Faith Took Shape

My parents.  Mom and Dad gave me such a strong foundation of faith and an understanding of Jesus' love for me and everyone around me.  They modeled the routine of regular devotions, the importance of church community, the habit of prayer, the necessity of asking for forgiveness, and so many of the basics of Christianity.

Young Peoples.  Pastor Bob was a powerful teacher in my teenage years.  He encouraged deep thinking and exploration of faith questions.  He created an atmosphere of camaraderie amongst the large group and of safety in the small group.  I was challenged in taking my faith seriously, in making it my own, and in being bold about what I believe.

Respite.  Working with kids with severe special needs grew my faith again in terms of seeing God as a good Creator and also seeing him as so far above.  I came back to two verses over and over:
"As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." Isaiah 55:9
"All things were made through him; without him nothing was made that has been made."  John 1:3
 and grappled with the question of why bad things happen to innocent children.  Some areas of my black-and-white faith of teenagehood greyed during this time.

Bible School.  Learning the whole storyline of the Bible in a short amount of time gave me a whole new understanding of Scripture and the God of history.  I came to appreciate God's word and the context it provides.  The reading, the memorizing, and the studying of the Bible became of far more importance to me than ever before.

Loneliness.  I met God the comforter after Bible school.  Returning home was very difficult for me.  My high school friends had scattered and I was starting over.  My youth group had changed to a college & career group that I was uncomfortable in.  My family relationships had changed as I had become more confident and independent.  School (CMU) was a place I worked to get all my reading and homework done between classes, so I did not connect there either.  I clung to the memory of community I'd had at Bible school.  To the memory of adventure I'd had there.

Lithuania.  Looking for another adventure, I got another growth spurt of my faith.  In Lithuania I made the God of nations.  I met a God who looked different for my friends from Lithuania, Latvia, Albania, and America.  And a God who looked oddly familiar.  Many things got greyer still as I worked out questions of faith only to find more questions.

Rhythm.  I found a new and meaningful expression of communing with God in my djembe playing.  I often think of the verse that talks about the Spirit interceding with groans too deep for words.  I've often experienced the Spirit speaking through rhythm what I couldn't even put words too and I love it so.

Bernie.  Marriage has taught me about long-term relationships.  When I struggle with an aspect of my faith, I find myself often comparing it to my relationship with my husband and thinking about how I approach that issue when it is with a tangible person I love.  In that way, I have met the God my husband.  It helps to compare the two relationships and know that the feelings and experiences I have toward Bernie are magnified a thousand times between God and I.

Parenting.  Becoming a mother has opened my eyes to my shortcomings.  I am brought to my knees so often in repentance and in seeking wisdom.  It has made me more reliant on God for daily grace and patience than ever before.  And it forces me to put my faith into as explainable words as possible.  I've had to steer clear of Christian words and phrases that are more of a reflex than they are meaningful to make sure I'm speaking to me kids in real words that they can understand.

Of Him and Him Alone

Let's just say God is calling me to foster/adopt.

Can I wait for Bernie to be called as well?  Can I believe the calling on my heart?  Can I be patient for years, if that's what it takes?  Can I raise my family, feeling like someone is missing?  Can I trust that all will come in good time?  Can I be like Abraham and Sarah?  Can my children's hearts be opened to this calling as well?  Can I imagine God overcoming the impossible so that it will truly be a thing of Him and Him alone?  Can I remain faithful between the rains of blessing?

Maybe maybe I could.  Maybe I can.  But Abraham had the promise.  And its reiterations.  And visits from angels.

With quivering voice and unsure footsteps, Lord, I approach you throne and humbly ask for a sign.  For something certain to hang on to.  And in the meantime I will cling to the Someone Certain.

Healing

I never thought you'd be the one to blow up.  For years now I've been dreading the moment that I full out lost my cool with you.  I envisioned tears, anger, and a whole lot of blame thrown my way.  It was kind of relieving, frankly, that you lost it first.  Almost welcome to get the phone call telling me how wrong I've been all these years, even if it felt like a ridiculous exchange prompted it.  Strangely, I didn't really feel attacked.  Maybe exactly because the final straw was one in which I feel I did no wrong.  Probably because I've already been working on this for months.  And definitely because I could finally say a bit of my piece to someone who wouldn't break down over it and might even find it constructive.

Even though we've only begun the first baby steps toward healing, I feel more freedom than I would have thought I'd ever feel in our relationship.  I don't know how long this will take or whether I will ever fully enjoy your company, but I am curious to see what God can do.

Because I am willing to have Him change me.  If I'm claiming "walk humbly" and "but he gives greater grace" as my mantras for the next while, I need to let them work themselves out in the most difficult relationship I have in my life.  So here we go.

His Heart Beats

Lost in the rhythm
deep and droning
chaos and cacophony
Drumbeats driving ever forward
thumping and thundering
pounding and pummeling
words cannot
and they don't have to
His heart beats
my hands echo
Finding its own language
my whole body tingles
words cannot
Embracing the vibrations
the pulse pulls me in
Reverberate
Rejuvenate
Resonate
Found in the rhythm

Live at Peace

I want to be able to have a relationship with you.  I want to be able to have a relationship with your kids.  I want to be able to speak without being nervous.  I want to be taken at face value.  I don't want to offend you or hurt your feelings.  I don't want to worry that you are taking everything the wrong way.

"Live at peace with everyone."  I can't.  It's just not working.  I so very much want to, but I cannot live at peace with you.  And that makes my heart hurt.

"As far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone."  I've been trying.  And I will keep trying.  To watch my tongue.  To avoid snarkiness.  To keep eye-rolling out of it.  To appreciate where your coming from.  To remind myself that you are fighting battles I know nothing about.  To take a deep breath before I speak.  

"If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone."  Thank you Jesus for giving me permission to not succeed.  It's hard for me to wrap my head around the possibility that while you want peace between us and I want peace between us, it just might not be possible right now.  When it feels like my efforts are not appreciated and my attempts are sabotaged, give me the grace to examine my motives, ask forgiveness when necessary, and continue with my head held high, knowing that I am being true to what you are calling me to.  Even though it still doesn't feel good between the two of us.

Dang it - again?!

Either I say nothing at all or I come away knowing she's offended again.  I've erred on the side of saying nothing for a few weeks.  Now apparently I've opened my mouth too far.  Again.  Without intending to.  Without hardly saying anything.  Where do I even go from here?

"I'm sorry for asking your son to not rile my kids up."  But I'm not, really.
"I'm sorry for how I said it."  But I actually thought I was getting my point across gently.
"I'm sorry for insinuating that your son is loud."  But you admit this is the case.
"I'm sorry for insinuating that the foyer of a book launch/film debut is not the place to yell."  But I think that would be a generally accepted truth.
"I'm sorry for suggesting that your son might be a bad influence on mine."  I can see that would be hard to swallow, as I don't like seeing that in my kids.
"I'm sorry that you don't like me."  Ouch.

None of them seems really fitting.  Basically, I'm sorry that we can't have a decent relationship.

And I'm frustrated that I can do you no right.

Hope

The smell in the air has changed.  Everything feels lighter, fresher, crisper.  I crack the windows and breathe deeply, taking the first hints of spring into my lungs and my soul.  Hang on, I say, there is hope.  It tastes like puddles and sunshine and rubber boots and whistling and budding trees and walking.  One breath and I can see the future.  Bedrooms have been kissed by brightness.  My skin tingles in the bubbly light.  It's been so long that it all feels new.  Evenings are beautiful now.  Light is encroaching on all the darkness.  Move out.  Make way.

Sexuality

I'd like to be able to be open with my kids and I'd like my kids to be able to be open with me.  So far that has looked like using accurate terms for body parts and letting them see/ask whatever they want in terms of my body and theirs.  A lot of people around me have been saying that they don't want their kid to remember seeing them naked.  I'm not sure I'm on board with that.  I don't want to make things secret and mysterious.  If/when my kids choose to have privacy of their own, I will respect that.  If/when they are embarrassed by seeing me, I will respect that as well.  But I want to keep the conversation open.

I know I'm being totally idealistic, but  I want to be the safe one that they can talk to about everything.  I want them to know God's ideal for sex, but more importantly, I want them to know why I believe that this is important.  I want them to choose to wait, but more importantly I want them to know why to wait and have strategies to protect themselves from temptation.   I want them to have such assurance of my love that they will want to discuss things with me, even if they disagree with me.  I want them to have the confidence in their decision-making, that they will share their choices with me, even if they know these choices are not ones I'd make.  Or at least, I want to want these things.

It would be so hard if any of my children chose to have sex outside of marriage.  But I want to have a relationship with them that is much deeper than behaviour choices.  I'm not sure what that will look like in terms of sex and teenage conversations, but I will be deliberate right now in laying the groundwork by taking every opportunity to make sure they know that I love them regardless of what they do.  And I will plant seeds for the future by responding to questions, comments, or assumptions with a listening ear and gentle guidance.

I Saw Too Many Signs

Is it a sign that the weekend with extra kids went so well?
Or is it a sign that Carol shared about adopting kids and then having to give them back?
Is it a sign that we live on the same street as Steve & Yolanda, who took in extra kids?
Or is it a sign that we call Lachlan "the baby"?
Is it a sign that I want it so badly?
Or is it a sign that Bernie does not?
Is it a sign that I feel like I'm ready for another now?
Or is it a sign that Abram & Sarah had to wait for so many years?
Is it a sign that I have dreams about another child joining us?
Or is it a sign that I am scared about another pregnancy?

If anything were really a deliberate sign from God steering us in one direction or another, I would know...right?

Karen

Karen and I have been close friends (I'd say best from my end, but I don't know about hers) for years and years.  There were the days of carpooling to CMU, of co-leading College & Career, of being house-sitting roommates, of starting a small group together, of planning a wedding, of getting "real" jobs, of becoming adults.  She's seen me as a shy teenager, a finding-my-way university student, a giddy first-date-er, a teacher, a nervous girlfriend, an excited fiancee, an elated bride, a wife, a prego, a mother and so much in between.

I love her.  I love Karen's passion for travel and having authentic cultural experiences.  I love her willingness to grapple with the tough questions of faith against faith.  I love the way she reaches out to immigrants and international students and invites them into the Canadian sphere of her life.  I love her courage in branching out to jobs and roles that take her out of her comfort zone.

There have been things that have been worrying me about Karen for the past 4 or 5 months.  She's become less joyful, less energetic, and less engaged.  Mentioning this to Erin a couple months ago and Laura and Angie last night confirms that it's not just me.  She's withdrawn from things that she used to care about and not been particularly present even when she is present.

It was almost comical last night, how each of us knew only one or two little things about Karen's life lately and when we shared them everyone else was shocked.  I had no idea she is perpetua-texting her "A-Team".  Laura had no idea about Brendan.  Angie had no idea we were concerned.

Between us all I think there's a clear consensus that something is off with Karen.  I don't think it's a crisis of faith, but maybe a bit of a crisis of identity?  purpose?  focus?  I don't know.  And she's so private she'd hate it if she knew we had talked about this without her.  But I felt like I needed to know if it was just me.

Lord, help me to approach her cautiously and lovingly.  Give me grace in showing her that I love her and am concerned for her.

My Heart

In elementary school I wrote a book about my friends who had physical disabilities.  I wrote about jumping on the trampoline with Jackie who had spina bifida.  I wrote about swimming with Ramona who had a deformed arm.  I wrote about having sleepovers with Sheena who had one ear.  I was only 8 or 9 years old, but I recall being very aware of people with disabilities and looking for ways to help them.

In grade 12 I attended a youth retreat that focused on putting words to what we hoped/planned/felt we wanted to do with our lives.  We were guided through sessions in which we reflected on our past, our abilities, our passions, our goals, and our God-given calling.  One evening we were asked to draw where we could see ourselves in the next 5 years and then to put it into one sentence.  My sentence, still in my head since 2001, "To love the unloved and unlovable with God's love".  I had a heart for those marginalized because of disabilities.

Just after turning 18, I stumbled into a respite job that lasted 8 years.  I was deeply impacted first by Lindsay, then Alex, Josh, Marshall, and Emily.  I read, learned, heard stories, and lived autism for a number of years.  My heart grew from caring for those with physical disabilities to those with mental and developmental disabilities.

In university, I was invincible and the sky was the limit.  I had dreams of fostering kids with special needs, adopting, doing respite longterm, living in a L'Arche community, working in a group home, or starting a home for multi-day respite.

It feels like this thread has woven through so many stages of my life.  It's changed forms a little over the years, but to me it feels very cohesive.  The heart that God has placed in me for loving the unloved with His love has expressed itself in various forms depending on my age and situation in life.  But it's all coming  from the same place inside.

Now in the parenting phase, I am strongly drawn to the fostering/adopting idea.  It just feels like a continuation of the passion God has placed in my heart.  And I can do it.  I really think I can.  Not that it will be easy, I wouldn't ever assume that.  But I do think I have the gifts to make it work.  And I think I would enjoy it.  Again, of course there would be ups and downs, but it feels right to me.

But I wouldn't ever want to go into it without Bernie's support.  And he's just not there.  So I'm stuck.  Waiting.  Waiting for something that may never happen.  Knowing that I feel there is still someone missing in our family, knowing that another pregnancy does not excite me, knowing that my husband is very happy to stick with the three kids we have, and knowing that I don't have this desire and passion for nothing.  Now what?

To My Last Baby

I will miss you sleeping in my arms, contended sighs that only I can hear.  I will miss being the one who knows just the right bounce to calm you down.  I will miss the visits of family and friends who come to meet you.  I will miss the emails of congratulations and support we received when you were born.  I will miss your fingers gently tickling my side while you feed.  I will miss the way you burrow into my chest.  I will miss the wonderful smell of your kissable head.  I will miss the days you spent in the wrap, protected and cuddled while the world went by.  I will miss rolls on wrists and pudgy fingers.  I will miss the many firsts that get harder and harder to keep track of.  I will miss watching your face change in those early weeks.  I will miss watching your big brothers dote on you.  I will miss relaxing on the couch to feed you.  I will miss those little knit slippers.  I will miss the peacefulness of a swaddled baby.  I will miss your blanket, the one we got ready in anticipation of your birth.  I will miss the jolly jumper in the doorway.  I will miss babyhood.  I guess that's why your baby is always your baby.

My Brother

For a while now I have struggled to communicate with my brother.  My brother has a very strong personality and I have had difficulty with his tendency to see everything as black or white as well as with his defensiveness.

Over the last few years I have tried to reach out to him a few times, only to feel shot down repeatedly.  He does not ever answer his phone and he is very slow at returning calls.  His preferred methods of communication are all connected to the iGadgets I choose not to have.  So this leaves us with only email, which even then it sometimes feels like he merely skims and shoots back something snarky.  I, too, excel at being snarky, so you can imagine where that leads.

After another one of these email exchanges, I finally resisted the urge to fight back and made myself vulnerable instead.  My words were "I am not trying to make this about your choice/use of technology.  I am not trying to be snarky.  I am just saddened by where things are at in our relationship.  I miss you."

I suppose it may have been bordering on a guilt trip, but it was an honest statement about where I'm at.  It was a bit risky to hit send, but I was so thankful that he took it as it was intended.  He called me back later that day (WOW!) and we talked for almost half an hour about the struggle our communication has become.  I feel like he has understood where I am coming from, even if he doesn't quite get why I am not choosing his iMethods of communication.  And I understand more about his choices and reasoning.  He apologized for where he as failed me and I appreciate that so much.

I hope we can both respect each others' choices and not make our limited communication be sarcastic shots at each other.

Keep me humble, Father.

Another Dream

I was in a university class.  As it ended I was given a message that my baby had been born.  I have no idea who exactly was birthing my baby, but I rushed to the elevator and impatiently headed down to the main floor.  By the time I got out of the building, my parents were there to pick me up and take me to the hospital.  When we arrived Bernie was carrying our baby out the front door and I met my child outside on a bench.

He was so okay with it.

We had another baby, it was not one I carried, and Bernie was excited about it.

I wish I knew what meant something and what didn't.

One Point in Favour of a Baby

Last night I dreamed that I heard a baby crying downstairs.  I went to check it out and found a library in our basement.  It was dark and I searched up and down all the aisles.  At the very last one I looked up and saw a baby on top of the shelf.  I reached up and brought him down.  He was younger than Lachlan - maybe 3 or 4 months.

Bernie was upstairs getting the kids ready for bed.  I brought the baby up to a bedroom that happened to have a crib.  I fed him, chose a stuffed animal for him, and was trying to sneak him to bed without Bernie noticing.  I knew he'd think I was crazy, but I was sure that we were meant to have this baby.

Can't imagine what that could mean, eh?

Sigh, the ongoing question festers...