Our One Christmas Tradition

Through the years, traditions have come and gone in our ever growing family. As the number of children grew, the number of traditions fell!! One that has sustained though is the annual "matching Christmas pj's" - the day of the year my husband (and now teen daughter) humor me and wear what I want them to wear....

2008

2009

2010

2011

2012

2013

2104

2015

2016

2017

This year, our big kids joined into the pj tradition fun - we did not even attempt to get a full family photo on christmas day with 7 kids under age 7 (we are smarter than that!) , so the candids of the day will have to serve as evidence! 

We may only have one real sustainable Christmas tradition - but it's a fun one! 

All I want for Christmas

Dear honey, 

Because I am the best wife ever, I have solved the dilemma of what you are getting me for Christmas. 

Take out lunches and dinners from now through Christmas Eve. 

Last night, you bought me (and our people) pizza.

Tonight, we are having soup from Ralph's for dinner and Hawaiian Ono BBQ for dinner. 

Tomorrow for lunch, it sounds like an El Pollo day. 

Tomorrow night, you have a pass because the neighbors have invited us for dinner. 

I will cook breakfast for our people - out of self preservation to make sure that some part of their routine stays intact so they don't totally and completely lose their minds. 

Christmas Eve it's lunch out after church.

I will make our spaghetti dinner Christmas Eve - a tradition started the year Cami came home from China and it was all we could do. 

What a gift it will be to me to not have to plan, cook, serve and clean up after people while trying to keep us all sane in the "anticipation of Christmas" craze. 

I love you and you are welcome. 

Your loving wife. 

This is us (or welcome back!)

Life moves by us in the blink of an eye - but yet some days feel like they are never ending. Such is the story for our family, and so many others in the same season. Although sometimes I'm not exactly sure which season we are in.....we are raising children and watching grandchildren grow up (all together too fast, I might add). We are celebrating milestone birthdays and anniversaries. Our closest friends range from retired to new moms and dads. 

As we have entered into this season of Christmas, more than one Christmas greeting to us has included "we miss your blog". These aren't people who loved the reflective posts I wrote on adoption or the "fired up" ones I wrote when feeling self righteous, but from our family. The people who love us through those events. 

So while it's not new year's yet, as a small gift to them and to ourselves, I am going to blow the dust off and begin again. 

Welcome (or welcome back) to our family... 

Becky, Katie, Cami, Julie and Zachariah

Ashlee, Megan, Melidee and Emilee - and thank you to our precious son-in-law Jon who is overseas serving his country. 

Matt, Laurel, Amelia, Aleina and Averee

This is us, minus the one who bravely serves his country and is far away this season. We range from 6 months to 60 (this coming February). We are loud and messy when together, and incomplete when we are apart. We are honest about our struggles, loyal to a fault and more than a little frazzled sometime. We love Jesus and each other

That Day Again

It's that day again. 

The one filled with the most confusing and contradicting of emotions.

It's her birthday. 

For three of my four kids, we don't actually know the day they were born - we celebrate their birthdays as "celebrating the day you were born" knowing it's most likely not the actual anniversary of that date.

For this one - we have a high degree of certainity about her actual birth date. 

There is confort in knowing the day.

There is joy that she was born.

There is excitement about celebration. 

There is also sorrow for the loss. 

There is wonder about the mom who birthed her. 

There is sadness for her - that she will never know how amazing this girl is. 

There is a woman on the other side of the world who brithed the most amazing kid. Her reasons for not parenting her run a range of possible options - some sad, some criminal, some hard hearted, some political. I will never know - and most days I don't give it much space in my brain. 

But once a year, this day comes. The day I am powerfully remindered that while we paint adoption as the beautiful picture of redemption and love and redemption that it is, we can never, ever forget that it is born of the greatest tradgey a child can ever, ever experience - the loss of their mom. The best I can hope for is that my girls can create enough emotional space in their heart to carry both of the conflicting emotions within their hearts at the same time. 

But we can celebrate the girl today - and all the wonderfully things go into her - her nature and her nurture! 

The Gift of Being Seen (or..saying Goodbye to Heather)

There is beauty in sight - the colors of creation, the splendor of the majesty, the twinkle in our child's eye, the bride as she approached the bridegroom. 

There is beauty in feeling seen by someone - that they see not only the "me" that I carefully project to the world, but the me that is underneath all that. Only those that can be trusted with the mess underneath the exterior can see. 

There is beauty in a relationship where we are seen. It's not the relationship of "in each other's business every day" but the relationship of "you are a safe place for the real me". 

This was driven home to me recently.  My friend Heather is moving today. To Brazil first, than to the Isle of Mozambique to tell people about Jesus. She is moving her family. She sold her possessions. She is leaving - probably for good. I am profoundly sad for myself. 

I have know Heather for a long time, but we don't see each other too often even though (until today) she lived 2 miles away. I love her and her family and we love their hearts for their mission. I knew I would miss her, but was caught totally unprepared for the depth which my heart hurts. 

It's because she sees me.

She sees past my projected image into the my heart. And she loves me anyway. 

Heather knows how horribly hard it is for me to ask for help. Looking back, she never said "no" when I asked - I am now pretty sure it wasn't because she was sitting around available, but because she knew how hard it was for me to ask and met me there. She saw the risk I take in asking - and she moved mountains to meet my need. 

She was one of a small handful of people who would take my hardest kid. I didn't ask often, but she always would. She saw my need and met it. 

She showed up when our baby left unexpectedly. Just walked in and hugged me - because she saw past the Christian rhetoric of "God's in control" and into my broken and shattered heart. She saw my heart. 

The gift of being seen - there is no better way to reflect the love of Jesus than this gift. And there is no one that does is better than Heather. 

I suspect that the Isle of Mozambique shall be forever changed for the kingdom because of Heather's gift for seeing people. I am blessed that she chose to see me - 

A Letter to my Non Believing Friends

This past weekend, I spent a few days with a friend who is not a Jesus follower/nonbeliever. She said "I thought you would like this - you are a Christian after all and this guy is your guy".

Oh my.

Without a debate on why our current president in no way represents my Jesus - I was horrified that her view of my Jesus was through the current political news and FB feeds. This letter is to her - and to all my other non believing friends.....

Dear Friends, 

I have known many of you for may years. I was a non believer for a long time. 39 of my 54 years. It's long enough ago that I am confident of my transformation - but still close enough in my rear view mirror that I vividly remember when not only did I not believe, but I wasn't open to the message of the gospel. 

It was the kindness of Christians who opened my heart to the message. 

In the midst of outright sin that led to immense pain, they came alongside me and did not judge me but loved me. They helped mitigate the consequences of my sin - with no "I told you so". 

They loved me - plain and simple and without politics or opinions about my behaviors or belief system. They opened my heart up to the message of the gospel. 

I wonder how much harder that job would have been if there had been Facebook feeds by other believers filled with fear and judgment and condemnation. I wonder how much harder my heart would have been - and how much longer it might have taken me to come to Christ and what I would have missed in that time. I wonder if the news showed me who Christ was through the lens of political promises and bluster if I ever would have come to know the ONE who loves above all else. 

So - for you - my non believing friends (and there's more than one or two of you in my facebook feed!) - if I don't represent Jesus as someone you would like to get to know - call me out. Let me know that the words and actions of this believer don't make you desire to know more about this Jesus I profess as my savior. Because more than anything - I want you to know Jesus and I want to represent Him well. I want what you see in my life to want to draw you closer to this Jesus who loves you so much! 

I pray for you all every day - and I pray that you don't allow Facebook to define who Jesus is. Don't allow any believer or newspaper article or even a blog post by an old friend (!!) define who He is to you. Give Him a chance  - get to know who He is. 

“For this is how God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.

That everyone is you. Jesus loves you - don't let the media - social or otherwise - tell you any different. 

Love - 

A flawed but faithful follower of Christ. 

Warning - Construction Zone

I have very little tolerance for construction in my house - the mess and the noise and the chaos really messes with my sense of order - and really, really dysregulates my kids. However, sometimes  - a mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do. 

In this case - laundry. 

My awesome brother is gifted in the area of home "stuff" so he came and braved the chaos of his nieces to re-order my laundry room last week. 

As our construction began, progressed and finished, I couldn't help but think how a construction process is what we are involved in with healing our children from trauma. 

You start out with something that is functional - it works and meets the needs. Our laundry room was like this - we got lots of laundry done in it every weeks (we are talking 15-18 loads a week). Not pretty or fancy, but functional.

Our kids develop survival skills from their trauma - even the brains of babies as little as a few days or weeks old start to learn the rules of their world and how to adapt and cope. Not healthy or age appropriate but those skills serve them well in their trauma. 

After the process begins, you have to rip out the old - it's dusty and messy and actually non functional for a while. 

When our kids come into loving homes and healthy environments, it rips the foundation of what they know and can trust away - and for a while (sometimes a long while) they are non functional in the family. 

Pipes and inner workings are exposed - and sometimes (most times) you get a lot more "gunk" than you expected behind those walls 

Old hurts and wounds are revealed - we aoften have little idea of the depths of the horrors our children experienced. 

Pieces are out of place and unplugged. Its hard to walk and work in this environment

Our kids feel out of place and their brains don't function right - it's hard for them to work in their environment (can I get an AMEN to how homework might be the very best example of this!!) 

Then the pieces slide into place in the renovated space. They become more functional and more efficient  and better designed to meet the needs. The dust is vacuumed up and the old pieces are tossed away while the functional and critical components are put back to work more effectively. 

Slowly, our kids start to heal. Their brains learn to trust. The hurts are swept away and the tools are put back in their boxes. They can begin to really learn and grow in healthy ways.

What you don't see in this picture is the things that I wanted done but that time didn't allow - not critical things so they can wait. Or maybe not happen at all - we'll see how it goes. 

Our kids will never not carry the scars from their trauma - they may be able to function ok with them, or more work later might be needed. We'll see how it goes. 

Isn't this just like God working in our transformed lives? A life lived for Jesus and following Christ is a process of tearing out and rebuilding 

Warning - construction zone ahead. 

Worry - Part 2

I have many friends who aren't raising kids from trauma. Their babies have been birthed into the very best of circumstances and are deeply loved, secure in their place in their families and the world and have no trauma in their history.

Yet these women worry deeply about the behavior of their kids - I hear them utter the words "why does everyone else's kids behave and mine can't?" 

What are we moms really, deep down worried about?

On the outside, I am worried that my child may wind up.....(insert your biggest fear about your child's future here - irresponsible, single forever, kicked out of school, homeless, in jail, addicted...whatever). That's what I will tell you - that's is about them.

But I will venture to say that on the inside - we are really worried about what people will think about US as parents as they see our child's behavior. We are afraid they will judge us as irresponsible parents who can't control their children and whose children don't respect them.

That fear and worry then causes us to lose it with our kids - who then behavior worse.

And so on.

Momma's- I said it yesterday and I will say it today - your children's behavior is not a reflection of your parenting abillity. It's just not. That's not to say we don't influence our children or that our actions don't have impact - they absolutely do. But please momma friends - stop beating yourself up and worrying about your parenting abilities based upon the actions of your kids. And - pretty please - let's stop doing it to one another. 

We wonder why people can't see and believe the beauty of the Good News of Jesus - yet every day the world judges our heavenly Father on the behavior of His children (that would be those of us who profess to be Christians).

Lay aside your worry about the world judgement abouot your parenting abilities. You are doing great! 

Worry - Part 1

It's been a hard few weeks in my tribe of Warrior Moms. I hear fear and worry everywhere I turn - and those things are not of the Lord. Worry might be the biggest destroyer of motherhood ever. 

"How can I help my child heal and stay safe today?"

For a very long time - this was my morning prayer. Because it had to be. 

Because that above all else was my main job with my kids from hard places. 

Today, I was reminded how very powerful our fear of "what if...tomorrow" can become for us as parents - especially when parenting kids who are set up to fail because of their beginnings.

Today,  I spoke to a mom who was broken. Who loves her very broken kids so very deeply and desperately that she ignored her mother instinct and took bad advice from a professional and was suffering the consequence. She, through tears, admitted she is so fearful of what he will be in 10 years that she struggles to stay in "today". 

We all do. 

We live in a society that tells us if our kindergardeners forget their lunch box, they will grow up to be irresponsible employees that can't be trusted.

Our world tells us that kids who don't complete 20 minutes of homework every night in 1st grade will never make it into an Ivy league college. 

The church has us convinced that if our 4 year old (or 6 year old or 12 year old) doesn't obey our every command within nano seconds of it being issued, they will NEVER, EVER be able to follow the commands of Jesus. 

Worry is everywhere. 

Except in His Word. 

Can all your worries add a single moment to your life?

 “And why worry about your clothing? Look at the lilies of the field and how they grow. They don’t work or make their clothing,  yet Solomon in all his glory was not dressed as beautifully as they are. And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, he will certainly care for you. Why do you have so little faith?

 “So don’t worry about these things, saying, ‘What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?’ 3These things dominate the thoughts of unbelievers, but your heavenly Father already knows all your needs.  Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.

 “So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.

God's Word is exceedingly clear on worrying about tomorrow.  Just don't do it. 

I am not talking about instilling good habits or teaching appropriate behaviors or training up children in the way of the Lord or raising kids to eventually become responsible, productive adults. We need to do that - for everyone's sake.

But until our child begins the healing process from the hurts - until we break the chains that hold them down emotionally - we can't even begin to worry about tomorrow. 

We have thankfully and through His grace moved through the hardest of the healing journey. There are still days when healing is paramount - when end of the school year transitions trigger their fears of the unknown & unstructured time. On those days - we go back to the basics of "what does my child need from me today to heal and be dafe"?. 

On the other days - we work on respectful talking and responsibility and obedience. 

(And for kids who aren't from trauma - they will be ok too. They are little children - like we are within the Kingdom. They require the same grace from us that God gives to us! Stop worrying momma's - you are doing ok and your children are not a reflection about your parenting abilities! ) 

Warriors Moms.

It's been a long time since I have been in this space. I miss this space. I want to be back here, so here I am - finally with the words flowing again. Much has happened over the past six months, yet we are still in relatively the same space. That's sweet and sad all together in one, and more about that as I come back into this place. 

Today, though, a lesson on my tribe. 

They are warrior moms. 

Not super moms. Not perfect moms. Not pinterest moms. Definitely not Pinterest moms. 

Warrior moms. 

We are a different sort of tribe. 

We start out fighting for our children. Fighting finances to bring them home. Fighting mounds of paperwork that would make a sane person crazy but bring us a an odd sense of pleasure and completion. We fight government bureaucracies in crazed attempts to bring our children out of orphanages as quickly as possible. Fighting friends and families who "think we are crazy". 

We begin our relationship fighting for our children. 

We get them home, and we keep fighting. School systems and doctors offices and insurance companies. Antiquated parenting paradigms. Church structures that don't meet their needs.  We fight diagnosis' delivered in ignorance and an apathetic medical system that doesn't understand our complex kids. Social workers and systems that don't fight for the children. 

We mostly fight the demons that haunt them from their pasts and the scars that are etched on their hearts, minds and souls from abuse and neglect and worse. 

We fight. It's tiring to be in fight mode all the time. We don't have a choice. We have learned that to let our guard down for one second can send our children into regression - educationally, emotionally, physically. We are in Defcon 4 mode all the time - because we have to be. That's what trauma does. 

We fight our own demons that drive us into the dark with chocolate and a box of tissues where we cry it out, then emerge once again swinging. 

We fight for our kids. For our dreams of peaceful homes. For our dreams of healed and whole children. For marriages restored. For one night of uniterrupted sleep. 

We fight - and it is tiring and often unsuccessful. We are viewed as "that parent" at school - who always seems to be criticizing and complaining and arguing and who is "never happy". Our friends don't call or reach out, because we are always seemingly in the "middle of a fight/crisis". Our family thinks we just aren't trying hard enough. And our churches...well, they have lots of scripture and prayer but not much else. 

We fight for them - because no one else did when they should have. We fight for them because we don't know what else to do. We fight for them becuase their lives and our depend on it. We fight because we are fueled by Jesus to stand in the gap. 

To those who know a warrior mom, offer grace. and a hot meal. Let her know that you're in the battle with her - even if you have no idea what the battle is about. 

For my warrior mom tribe. I love how you shine Jesus. I love how you cry in the dark for your child and then emerge stronger. I wish those who don't understand could see you the way I see you - as the strongest, bravest women I know. I pray for your fight. I yearn for the day we are all on the other side of heaven and we can lay down our fight. 

We fight for them