Rejection (Psalm 118:22)

Betrayed by one He trusted
Sold out and out of favour
Rejected in favour of another
Tossed aside as though worthless
Misunderstood and missed the point
Lonely and yet never alone
He was despised and rejected
A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief
Stricken, afflicted, crushed, and lifeless
In his rejection he was so much more
The very stone the builders rejected has become the critical cornerstone, upon whom my faith finds its firm foundation.  By those painful, bloody wounds my own heart is healed.  Choosing to believe His claim of me as chosen and precious, I will build upon Him.

Psalm 118:22
Isaiah 53:3-5
1 Peter 2:4-5

The One Whose Beauty Enraptures (Psalm 27:4)

The dark navy layers of clouds that act to accentuate the florescent pink of the setting sun

The lit-up face of the untempered, all-encompassing joy of a child

The untouched perfection of the snowy white mountainside 

The rays piercing through the hoarfrosted branches of winter

The song sung to Jesus with the raspy voice of innocence

The sweet smell of cinnamon on a lazy morning

The moments that capture goodness and beauty

I pause involuntarily to soak them in

Time slows and sounds fade

And everything becomes more significant than it is

The veil thins and things unseen are closer

For a moment I am enraptured

A reflex to knowing

Beyond a shadow of a doubt

That He is near

I see the beauty of the Unseen One

He Fills

The day I started loving Him on the inside, everything started spiralling out of control.  He started showing me His heart for those around me and I had to put down my pack of self-righteousness so I could partner with Him in shouldering His burden for the world.  Sometimes it breaks my heart and I just want to find a way to end all the suffering around me.  But most times it fills my home with extra mouths to feed and souls to love.  It fills my time with cards and emails and phone calls of encouragement.  It fills my mind with dreams and questions of what is to come.  And it fills my heart with hope, empathy, purpose, and joy.  

Lord, I want to see greater things than these.  

Putting My What-Ifs in Hiding (Psalm 32:7)

If I let myself engage the fears, they sound like this:
What if our kids can't handle having other kids around all the time?
What if our kids can't handle sharing us?
What if our village doesn't support us?
What if our village doesn't know how to support us?
What if Bernie resents me for this?
What if our kids can't handle foster kids leaving?
What if I can't handle foster kids leaving?
What if the kids are impossible to manage?
What if we have to sacrifice good things?
What if it's too expensive?
What if it's too complicated?
What it it's too tiring?
What if it's too difficult?
What if I can't do it?
What if I am wrong?

But if I let myself engage the hopes, they sound like this:
What if the seed for this was planted with Jackie and Sheena?
What if He grew this in me through Alex, Lindsay, Marshall, and Emily?
What if He gave me words like 'unloved' and 'unlovable'?
What if He broke my heart for Jordan and Victoria?
What if He stirred uneasiness with each snippet of story from acquaintances, news media, and blogs?
What if He gifted me with this compassion?
What if He is growing me in humility and confidence?
What if He is drawing me to Him for something greater?
What if I don't take the easy way out?
What if He entrusted me with an idea that would change my world?
What if He entrusted me with an idea that would change HIs world?
What if I believe that this is of Him?
What if I don't?

God, You are my hiding place.  Today I collect both my hopeless fears and my fearful hopes, seal them up tight and hide them in You.  I trust You to keep them safe and turn them into songs of fearless hope to deliver me when the time is right.

Being Afraid, Being Hopeful, and Not Being Careful (Psalm 118:6)

The word 'fear' itself doesn't enter my prayers, worries, or even consciousness on a regular basis.  I've loved rollercoasters and the feeling of falling for as long as I can remember.  I've been cliff-jumping, sky-diving and bungee-jumping.  Public speaking isn't my favourite, but it doesn't paralyze me either.  I have a decent enough amount of confidence to fake confidence in most situations.  I'm terrified of snakes, mind you, but that's not an issue that rears its proverbial head much in my day-to-day.  I wouldn't generally describe myself as afraid, so I almost skipped today's verse.

But I didn't leave it out and now it won't leave me either.  I might not have the kind of fear that makes my heart race and my knees knock, but I have a nagging, subtle, beneath-the-surface fear that drowns the stirrings in my heart before they have a chance to become dreams.

I keep having these glimpses into what could be, but the fear I haven't wanted to label as fear makes me glance past them.  I don't dare dwell on them, imagine what they could be, let them grow in my dreams, or hope for them.  The fear I never acknowledged is stealing the hope I never put into words.

I want to hope.  I want to dream the mother of all dreams.  The one He put in my heart.  I want to abandon myself to a radical, foolish, careless, enormous, ridiculous hope.  Even as I type the words, I recognize the fear in that vulnerability.

"When I choose hope, when I choose to engage in that awkward intimacy of believing that He might say no while asking expectantly that He say yes, my heart opens in a way it never does when I’m careful. I’m forced to search Him out, to wrestle with Him. And in so doing He gets the most beautiful part of me." 
- Sara Hagerty

The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid.
What would I hope, if I wasn't being careful?
What would I hope, if I had no fear?

Unlikely Fruit (Psalm 92:14)

We sat there talking about fostering like it wasn't terrifying.  We discussed where an extra child or two would sleep in our house like there was nothing overwhelming about bringing in a soul (or souls) that are hurting and uncertain and traumatized and needy and not ours.  We wondered about different agencies and merits of one over the other like this was something we could really do.
Producer of Unlikely Fruit, You are at work here.  And as you do in us, anticipation is growing for what You will do through us.

Clean (Psalm 51:10)

A wave of anger building slowly, made its way to the shallow waters of temper.  It crashed on the shore of righteous indignation, covering me head-to-toe as I sat right there oddly excited at its arrival.  Time slowed as the salty droplets ran down my skin and retreated much more calmly than they had come.  In its aftermath, I am changed.  No longer irritated, frustrated, agitated, or even annoyed, this wave has cleaned my inside of its indignation, just as it cleaned my outside of sweat and sand.

Now sadness washes over me, its ebb and flow almost predictable.  And I wonder, what will He clean from inside me with next wave.  And how will I look on the other side.

Hiding (Psalm 27:5)

Your impenetrable back blocks out my irrational worries and fears.  Your strong but gentle arms wrap around my small and shaking self.  Your posture, a perfect mixture of protection, compassion, and confidence, encompasses my huddled hiding frame inside of Yours.  Your chest absorbs my tears as I press in deeper when it is all just too much.

Redeem (Psalm 130:7)

Once upon a time, You thought up me. With exactly these birthmarks, this curly hair, this (lack of) height, and this shape. With this sense of humour, this compassion, this organization, and this joyfulness. I don't know how You thought me up. Was it in one brainwave of inspiration in the middle of the night? Or bit by careful bit that You crafted me exactly so? But there I was in the back of Your mind, completely and entirely the way that You intended.

Until the moment I left You and entered here and now. You let go of what was all Yours and let it explore the world of choice and temptation and distraction. And here I am, still who You made, but subject to my weaknesses of pride, judgement, gossip, and grudges.

And here You are, with abundant redemption. Here you are, waiting for the moments I turn to You. All You need is that one glance from me and a little drop of redemption hits the counter by my side. Splat. I get a little wet and you redeem that moment. You are not pushy, but you reclaim every thought, recover every action, and repossess every word I am willing to give back to You, its Rightful Owner.

I want to know what it's like to be all Yours, Lord, like I was meant to be. Redeem my moments.

Introducing Our 5-Year-Old

If you just see Niko on occasion, you might describe him as tall, blue-eyed, shaggy-haired (I've been calling him 'Shep the Sheepdog'), and fun-loving but shy.

If you spend time with him on a regular basis, you might talk about his love of board games, his quick math skills, his strength and speed in sports, his incredible memory, his interest in maps, and his generally over-the-top wild and crazy boy-ness. 

Having now loved and lived Niko day in and day out for 5 years, I am blessed to see not only the facts about who and how he is, but also the trajectories of who and how he is becoming.

I see the way he deliberately asks his little cousin to repeat himself in an attempt to decipher what the words mean.  The way he gingerly holds a new baby and notices how perfect she is.  The way he graciously lets Emerson play 'Trouble' with him, although his little brother plays by his own rules.  The way he is so much more likely to melt down in tears of heart-wrenching disappointment than of angry rage.  The way he gently redirects Lachlan, using his baby-voice and trying to distract him (from destroying yet another Lego masterpiece).  The way he excitedly looks forward to "our small group" coming over and is a little offended that they are not solely coming to play with him.  The way he is endearingly disappointed in himself when he has a rough day of listening.  The way he uncontainably leaps into a bear-hug after doing something he is exceptionally proud of.  The way he confidently teaches Emerson how to stand in net in order to make a few saves.  The way he courageously overcomes his fears as he ventures out on his own and even reaches out to make new friends.  

The way these glimpses reveal Niko's trajectory makes me thankful for where he has been, proud of where he is now, and excited for where he will be going

The way God is glorified in Niko is spectacular in these and so many moments.

The way God sees this wonderful boy He created and entrusted us with is evident in these portraits.

The way I love, guide, teach, discipline, struggle, wonder, and pray is worth it for these rewards.

Behold (Psalm 113:6)

My God is the mother who stops doing dishes and gets down on the floor to see exactly what is so cool about my latest Lego creation.
My God is the aunt who comes to my concert even though she hates that kind of music.
My God is the friend who misses her massage to actively listen to all of my drama.
My God is the brother who sees my hurt and puts my needs ahead of his own agenda.
My God is the father who turns off the screens and gives his full attention to my rambling and fairly irrelevant story.
My God is the husband who holds my hand the entire way through a movie musical - in the theatre.

My God is not aloof, distant, or avoidant.  He didn't set the universe in motion and retreat to His easy chair.  Every day and every hour that I invite Him, He humbles Himself and beholds me.  Never from a safe distance, rather He gets down on His knees with me and lovingly, interestedly, attentively gazes upon me.  Because He delights in me.  Because He cares for me.  Because He invites me in to deeper conversation with Him.

Revealed

Nine years ago, I promised to love your heart as long as we both shall live.  When I am flippant about it, it gets tough and calloused and hard to read.  But as I hold it gently in my hands, its wounds and weaknesses are being revealed.  May my words of grace be words of healing.  May my mindful actions act as fertilizer.  May I love your heart for what it is and for what it will become, by His grace and in His power.