Awareness

I keep stumbling upon these amazing people. And while I struggle with the words to even describe the beauty of what they are doing, I though I could at least let you read them for yourselves.

Meet Katie. A 20 year old from Tennessee who is living alone in Uganda. Not only is she the mother to 14 children who are living in her home with her, but she also feeds, nurtures, teaches, and provides medical care to hundreds of others. Her story, her life, is beautiful.

Kisses from Katie

I especially encourage you to read this post of hers from last year when she was in the U.S. for school and fundraising:  http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/2008/12/sometimes-god-is-so-big-and-so-awesome.html

Meet the Mayernick family. With 6 children already, they took a trip to visit Katie and serve for a week with her in Uganda. After coming home, they began to plan a return trip to Uganda to adopt a special needs child they had met. Their determination to bring their new daughter home continues in spite of struggling with the legalities of adoption and a positive HIV test.

Joining the Journey

And if you would like to do more than read, if you have the desire to act instead of watch, then let me point you to these:

147 Million Orphans

Compassion

Weary

I am weary. It’s that more-than-sleep-can-cure kind of tired. I think stress and worry and a myriad of other emotions have joined forces and are currently seeping into my bones. I feel like the lobster that didn’t notice the heat was being cranked up until the water was boiling.

Friends offer plenty of advice. I am told to rest. To relax. To stop worrying. To pray. But I insist I can keep going. Mainly because I know it could be so much worse.

I remember bad times. I remember truly feeling like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. I remember thinking that if I stopped for even a second I would be buried alive. This isn’t one of those times.

As backwards as it sounds, I think it’s harder to rest now.

It has always been easy to cry out to God in the midst of tragedy and despair. In times where I really feel like I need help. When I’m in so deep that there’s no doubt I can’t make it alone.

But when the waves aren’t so rough? When I’m just an ordinary housewife having a run of the mill bad day? That’s when I’m not so good at crying out.

Even after all these years, I’m still quantifying my needs and my pain and my hurt and my mistakes and my desires. Then I measure those against the jar of grace that I imagine God has for me. And these are my thoughts:

Should I waste one of those precious gems on this?

There are people really hurting. Am I selfish enough to ask Him to help me?

I just asked for grace (a month ago, last week, yesterday, this morning) do I dare ask for it again now?

Most of the time, my worries and needs get a “no” to all three questions. So I put my chin up and keep struggling on my own until the problems are so big that they pass my “worthy” test.

The bad news is that I have two images in my head: 1- a quickly depleting jar of grace and 2- me on one side of a balancing scale and the world on the other.

The good news is that those are images of my own creation. They are not what God has said or done or promised.

He didn’t leave a list of approved reasons why we could engage with Him. He didn’t give us a set number of appointments. He didn’t suggest we try any home remedies first. He gave us an open invitation. An unlimited amount of opportunities to rest and be comforted by the ultimate Healer. And that is what I’m trying to focus on.

“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-29

Fins and Feathers

The weather was so beautiful yesterday that we spent the evening outdoors. Our park has a fishing pond and enough local wildlife to keep a little kid happy for hours.

The Way We Roll

Each time I turned around today, I saw another set of wheels. Just one more reason why I love our city.

Sun Spots

I was scrolling through recent pics and my eye kept stopping on this one.

It’s nothing special. What I love is the background. It reminds me of an impressionist painting and if you know me well, you know I adore Monet.

I’m a horrible artist. Even stick figures are beyond my grasp. But I’m pretty sure if I were ever to study the art of painting, I’d try to recreate this on canvas and be done with it.

Bibles

I can’t imagine not having a Bible. One of my own to read and study and write in. To find words of hope and forgiveness and strength.

Bibles are scattered throughout our bookshelves. We take them for granted. There are so many that we wouldn’t notice if one was missing. And yet, there are people in the world who can’t get their hands on a copy. People who want to know God’s words but must rely on others to tell them.

Bible League International is trying to make a difference.

For $40, they can place 10 Bibles into hands that haven’t before held one. $4 a Bible. And as of now, KLTY is matching those donations sent to Southeast Asia.

If you want to help-

http://www.1800yesword.com/index.asp?rStation=KLTY

https://www.bible-league.org/givenow/index.aspx

Rendered Speechless

Sunday found me in church singing songs of praise. Most are new to me. Great messages wrapped in catchy rhythms. Music that I’ve heard but I haven’t lived. But then a familiar note rang out. My heart caught.

I open my mouth to sing,

Amazing Grace!

and close my eyes to the room.

How sweet the sound,

This song feels like home to me.

That saved

And suddenly, I can’t go on.

A wretch like me.

Instead of breath, there is only a lump.

I once was lost,

My vision swims.

But now am found.

My soul is full of joy,

Was blind,

and sorrow,

But now I see.

and hope.

It is more than a song. It is the accompaniment for a slideshow of memories.

It is holding a heavy hymnal and turning to #330.

‘Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,
And grace my fears relieved;
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed!

It is a group of college kids gathered around a campfire.

Through many dangers, toils, and snares,
I have already come;
‘Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far,
And grace will lead me home.

It is joined voices rolling over and around the bed of a loved one.

The Lord has promised good to me,
His word my hope secures;
He will my shield and portion be
As long as life endures.

It is a lone bagpiper.

When we’ve been there ten thousand years,
Bright shining as the sun,
We’ve no less days to sing God’s praise
Than when we first begun.

It is rocking my baby to sleep.

It is a reminder of how far He has brought me and how far He still wants to take me.

“Or do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” – Romans 2:4

Perspective

I hate being the center of attention.

And yes, I know I’m loud. It’s something I really dislike about myself. I’ve always wanted to be the soft-spoken woman who only speaks when something is incredibly important. But I’m not.

Knowing that, I’m not surprised in the least at how loud my daughter is. We joke around the house that she has no volume control. Everything that she does, she does it loud. Singing, talking, reading, dancing, playing. I’m never worried when I hear her scream, the panic comes when she’s silent for more than a minute.

What amazes me though, is how much she enjoys performing. She loves to be watched. Recently she walked up to a random lady in the store and said, “My name is Abby. Want to see me dance?” Without waiting for an answer, she proceeded to make up a song and do a little jig right there. I’m certain her idea of heaven is a full-time audience.

And maybe that’s what it is. Heaven. Maybe it’s each of us up on our own little stage singing and dancing and speaking words of praise to God. He could be the spotlight and the music and the audience all at the same time.

The problem with that image is that it terrifies me. I’m nearly sweating at the thought of it. And I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be afraid of Heaven.

I would much rather imagine blending into a crowd of saints and letting my voice be hidden by all of theirs. You know, like I do at church. I don’t sit on the front row, I don’t sing loudly, and I definitely don’t wish that I was on stage.

There’s something wrong with that, isn’t there? With wanting to blend in? More than that- with being afraid to stand out? There’s something wrong with fear in general.

I don’t know where my fear started. I’m pretty certain it has to do with being afraid of others judging me. Being scared of not measuring up. The mental exaggeration of my faults. The curse of perfectionism.

But I think God is using my daughter to break my scaredy cat shell. Simply put, I’m noticed everywhere I go with her. In every store and at every event, Abby draws attention to us. Like yesterday when she walked around town with hair bows clipped to her ears as earrings.

Through her words and her actions, people notice her. And in turn, they notice me. And her unbelievable fearlessness makes me proud. I can’t help but smile at this person, this ball of energy, that I’ve created.

All I can say is, isn’t that the way it’s supposed to work? Aren’t people supposed to notice the child and then the parent? Shouldn’t my faith draw attention to me and cause people to look at my God?

I wonder how many opportunities to draw attention to God, through my actions, I’ve avoided. I think maybe my fear of attention, my embarrassment at my loudness, has been hurting more than just me.

Serenity

Even in the heat, autumn is appearing. Days are getting shorter. Evening is a little cooler. Our walks last longer now that there are leaves on the sidewalks for crunching.

Fall is the quiet season. It’s not filled with the giggles of spring. The loud shouts of summer are gone. It isn’t silent the way that winter is.

Fall is gentler. Softer. Like a slow dance in your living room. Or a car ride at night with the windows down and the wind whipping through your hair.

It’s a time for gardening. There are seeds of freedom and hope to be planted. Things to be left in the dirt until they are strong enough to break through.

I am ready to sit and listen. To read and reflect. I am anxious to not be anxious.

My heart is longing for autumn and the calmness that it brings.

Home.

We spent the last few days out in the country where everything seems to move slower than it does here.

The people, the cars, the tempo of life.

Everything except Abby and the hummingbirds.

Matthew 6:26- “Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?”