And

Brooklyn is 8. She is sweet and shy and quiet, but very bubbly once she decides you're ok to be around. She and her brother Sam are 2 of my very favorite kids in the whole world. Which is actually saying a lot because we know A LOT of kids. Right now she is going through things most adults could not handle, in a strange country with a strange language, with her amazing but completely exhausted Dad by her side and her mother 2 countries away. She has had IVs, transfusions, reactions, complications and more complications. People all over the world are praying for her and her family right now, and I know it is helping. They've seen miracles already in her care and their ability to get what she needs. Soon she will move to another hospital in yet another country, this one with wonderful care and even better her Mother and brother will join her there. She will even get to see our Pastor, who will arrive before her and prepare some things for the family's comfort. He's a deep well of love and concern and hard work all at once and I'm so glad we can send him.

And yet she is still so close to dying. Every little procedure that doesn't go smoothly; each hour she stays anemic or dehydrated or undernourished or her body is just overwhelmed. We are still begging the Great Physician to work miracle after miracle until it almost feels greedy. And because He loves us so fervently and purely, I trust and believe He will continue healing her. And yet I'm scared He may not. And frustrated to know she suffers so much, and her parents whom I love and admire suffer too. And I'm angry too, because why in the world would God call them so clearly to move to this place to do this work that so desperately needs doing, only to allow this horrible stage of their journey? Why? WHY? I don't understand it. I don't like it. I don't want to have keep waiting and weeping and waiting some more. I don't.

And then it hits me. I'm reminded and it brings comfort, albeit twisted backhand comfort. This is a broken, hurting world. And sweet Brooklyn and her family are just as subject to that brokenness and hurt as the rest of us. And none of it surprises God; he knows the hairs on her head and the freckles on her precious nose and the sparkle in her eye much better than we do. He knows what she needs and what her Daddy and her Mom need and what her tender-hearted brother needs too. HE knows. He has a plan and by His grace we'll see that plan unfold in ways none of us could imagine. So I breathe, and remind myself to be grateful for keeping her safe thus far instead of bitter she's on the journey at all. And I pray and join my friends in prayers and fasts and updates and more prayers all day and night. I think I have never in my life prayed this much for anyone, even myself. And I will not stop. Not until we hear she is healed, hydrated, happy and headed home. And just this once, I will lay my worries down at the foot of the cross with every prayer, with every breath and every step.

And it will all be enough for today. And tomorrow we'll do it again, because we love her so. And we know HE loves her so too.

Anger & Hope and everything in between

My dear friend's 8 year old daughter, Brooklyn, is currently in danger of dying from typhoid. They live in Sierra Leone, and her vaccine was apparently faulty because she got sick anyway. The update her Mom sent to our church this morning said her kidneys are shutting down so they're flying her to Ghana in the hopes of getting her stabilized and then moving her to London, but she added this sentence which has me praying and sobbing and angry and begging God to not let this come to be. "She's dying and won't make it." She had to write that about her precious little girl, less than 1 month after moving to a new country to help the fight against human trafficking. It is terrible.

I am heartbroken and just praying nonstop that God will intervene and miraculously heal her. It is all I can think about and I don't know what to do other than  pray and hold on to hope, especially since it sounds like her family cannot do that right now.

I have nothing else to say today.

I feel the need . . . the need for speed!

Name that movie.

Anyway, I feel the need to write but I have nothing to say. It's kind of funny actually, how often this happens to me. In the course of my day I am always thinking of things I want to blog about, or journal about or getting ideas for stories I could write; then something distracts me and when I actually sit down here to write I can't think of any of them.

The girls are resting and I checked a friends blog and she wrote the most beautiful post
about love and faith and how she wishes things could look different than they do now. I read it and thought "Yes! That is so true, that is exactly right, that is . . . what I wish I could write." Which made me realize something: I love to hear peoples' stories and thoughts much more than I love to write my own. I mean, I love to process things via writing and I do that a lot here, but what I REALLY REALLY love is listening to someone else. I love to hear the hearts of my friends and loved ones, and of those I only know from their blogs or some article a friend posts on facebook. I love to really listen and dig deep into what someone else has lovingly painstakingly written and just soak it all into my soul. I really really love it.

I wonder how I could do that more often? Is there a way to minister to others through listening--not like counselling, because that's not my strong suit--through just hearing what others have been through or are going through? Hmmm, I wonder.

Stop the world I want to get off!

Lately I feel like my life has somehow become a high speed freight train of going going going, but never actually getting anywhere. Everything, from our schedule to Bob's job to the roller coaster of emotions 4 kids provide to keeping the house somewhat put together just feels so frantic and unendingly exhausting. I wake up each day and lay in bed praying "Please God. Just today, just once can we(meaning Bob & I) not feel overwhelmed and totally spent by noon? Pretty Please?" And then I get up and shower and dress and diaper and feed kids and hustle the boys out the door for school and load and unload them from the car 40 eleven times and clean and cook and fold and wash and and and and and. And Bob is stressed and hating work life and cannot catch a break to save his life where occupation is concerned.

And we are trying, each day to seek the joy and find the good and focus on the many blessings and things for which we are truly soul deep grateful. Some days it works, some days not. Lately, despite all the good and intentional choosing of focus I feel beaten. Conquered. Unable to slow down, breath, chill. I walk around with the satirical but so appropriate thought of someone somewhere who said "STOP THE WORLD I WANNA GET OFF!" Everything is just too much, too fast, too zooming along out of control.

Want to know the most ridiculous part of it all? We don't have that much going. I mean sure 4 kids 7.5 and younger is quite a bit of parenting and herding and whatnot, and school just started for Kid and Boy, but seriously we Don't. Do. Any. Thing. On Tuesday night we paid a sitter and went out for the evening together. It was I think the 4th time since last December we have done something so crazy. And that makes this a HUGE year event-wise. No one is in any clubs or sports or classes beyond the school day. Both boys attend the same school for the same number of hours each day. Said school is less than 6 blocks from our house. The girls and I are home large portions of each day with the flexibility to do or not do as needed. They can nap and play and "help" with housework. We go to church most Sunday evenings and occasionally do fun things with other families on weekends. That. IS. All. While it is true that over the summer Bob has somehow ended up(despite many assurances this would not continue) working 10-12 hour days several days a week and getting called on to help others on weekends, which makes for a grumpy tired husband and sad Daddy-missing children; it is also true that most of the husbands I know have to do that and seem to go along fine. I don't understand it all really, which is what makes me blog it in the hopes I will magically figure it out as I write. I'll let you know how that goes.

On most of the "cool" blogs I read, the writers seem to arrive at some profound, or at least coherent, point at the end and sign off having shared said point with clarity and passion and panache. I feel cloudy, lukewarm and as clumsy as a pregnant women on crutches. And like I have not made any point at all, except I keep trying to simplify our life and ease the stress of too much doing and still it feels a burdensome load. I guess this is one of those seasons where we will just keep on keepin' on and hope the steps we're taking pay off down the road. I can endure. I can. I can even (sometimes) do it cheerfully.

Have I mentioned I hate intentionally practicing patience and tranquility?

Daring Greatly Revisited.

I just re-watched the Brene Brown vids I mentioned in this post. They are still phenomenal. I can't sit and write too much because I need to clean my kitchen and go to bed, but I want to get these thoughts down before I crowd them out with the day to day tasks that eat my brain.

1. Bob is currently daring greatly in a few important areas and I am so so proud of him. I won't dissect that too much because they are his projects and not mine, but it is truly amazing and humbling to watch him work hard at his current goals. I love him, and I love being the wife part of our particular husband-wife set.

2. I am a huge coward when it comes to some of the things I believe God created me to be/do. I know they're hardwired into the essence of me, but I don't do them because I'm terrified that if I do, someone might find out and do something awful. You know, like expect me to try? Seriously. Gigantic coward.

3. In the video on vulnerability Brene talks about worthiness and its connection to courage and wholehearted living. Which reminds me that I really need to tell a friend about how her work at a retreat several years ago profoundly changed my life. Why does it remind me? The answer, simply put, is because she did a whole session with the women of my church on our true name/identity in Christ and I had a heart moment of epic proportions. I will have to post that particular piece of my story on its own I think, but I thought if I reminded myself here it might prompt me to stop frittering time and just do it.

4. Over the past few years my tv consumption has gone way way down. I have my addictions of course but they are waning and the list has been dramatically culled until there are genuinely no shows I "have to see" anymore. The biggest consequence I've noticed about this change is not that I am now super productive and organized and rested; those were the results I was hoping for and expecting. But nope. The real changes have been (imho) that I no longer spend so much time measuring myself against the lives of others. I feel less--not to say none I'm still human--discontent in the face of other people's comfort/success/perceived ease of life. I feel less need to conform and buy things and spend time and energy on a bunch of things I don't actually value or care about in order to fit in or elevate myself in others' esteem. My kids aren't in a zillion activities, and instead of getting defensive if people comment I just say "No, they aren't. We don't really do the hectic schedule thing very well." My husband and I don't have much in the way of active hobbies right now and I just don't care. We are tired and worn thin and once the kids are in bed we don't want to spend more energy on much of anything, even if its something we like doing. For this season of tiny children and long hours and early mornings this is what we need and it is truly, finally, joyfully, okay with me. I like our life and the choices we make to keep ourselves and our kids sane and if other people think I'm nuts than so what? I cannot definitively say these are all a direct cause/effect relationship to less tv viewing, but I am fairly certain that avoiding commercials and their loss aversion brain manipulation has helped. Also it has allowed me to see that my ability to relate to and care for others well is not affected by my knowledge of the shows they watch each night. My ability to live more "wholeheartedly" is about my desire to love and connect with the people in my life and I don't need to waste time watching tv to do that. What a concept! Only 34 years to figure it out too. I am surely a prodigy.

5. I think there are several more but this is long and it is late and I must wash dishes and then sleep. The end.

Wandering through my own mind

Sometimes I just sort of meander through the many random swirls of thought in my brain and wonder if any of them will ever un-swirl and become fully formed ideas, or even (gasp) actions. That's the big sticking point for me, always. To move from thought or intention to action. I don't think I ever learned how one does such a thing. No, that's not true, I know exactly how to to do it if it is for someone else's benefit; especially someone who doesn't live here. It's very backward when I really stop to think about it.

My house gets clean and tidy because someone is coming over, not because my family deserves a comfortable living space. I sew or write or bake because someone needs a gift or asked for my help, not because it feeds my soul to create. I cook and clean up spills and do laundry laundry laundry because I get hungry and dirty and goodness knows the kids do too. But not because I love to see them eat, or enjoy teaching them how to keep their own homes neat and homey someday. If I really stop to think, and wonder and process I simply cannot understand myself.

I don't know what it all means or how it should change or why it even matters. For me, knowing what things mean and why they matter are the catalysts for change. So to sort through it all is critical, if I want to become a me who can bless my family with not just words, but the work of love too. The housekeeping, clothes washing, yard upkeep kinds of love that help my children learn it's good and satisfying to work hard for those you love. I don't think I'm teaching them that very well and I'm ashamed. I'm embarassed when I hear Kid say "That sounds too hard, why do I have to?" Or when they leave their toys and clothes strewn about and uncared for instead of putting them away. Or assume they can just carelessly ruin and break things and then have them immediately and painlessly replaced. No effort, no struggle, no waiting. And I know this is kids and they are learning the world and that's my job as their mother. To teach them the waiting and the effort and the struggling and I try. Bob tries. We pray and we wake up every day and try again and that struggle is surely part of our growth just as picking up their toys is part of theirs. And still they act so entitled some days. So sure of material comfort without condition. And so I'm embarrassed again. Not for them, for me. At my own laziness and apathy. I've been given this 1 life to live, and somehow seeing them not care about the mess or be willing to help clean it up without prodding makes me sure I'm failing. Failing them, failing me, failing the world at large. There are things I should be doing to teach them these lessons and I'm not and I don't know why.

I am falling into my own head with these thoughts sometimes and it isn't helping and I'm back to wondering again how to move from thinking to doing. I want to be a doer when it comes to love and not just a talker. I just don't know how. So I wade back into those swirling eddy thoughts and I swing a fishing net through them and try to pluck them up and sort them out. And I'll keep trying until I get it right. One of these days this struggle will ease and then I suppose different one will take its place. Because this is a journey and I can't be on a journey if I don't keep moving. . .

Right?

I hate unresolved internal conversations. Perhaps I should stop posting so many of them.

Robbed

Today I took my kids to swimming lessons and then my mother, who is visiting for a week, bought us a drive through lunch as a treat. Shortly after we came home I discovered we'd been robbed. Pixie was already sleeping, Sunshine was on her way to nap, and I was suddenly terrified to be in my own home. My mom and I took the kids outside and called the police and stood in the hot front yard and waited for them. Sunshine fussed. I did a lot of surreptitious deep breathing in an attempt to appear calm for my children's sake. Kid was very upset. The police came and searched the house. No one was there. Neither was any of my jewelry, my father's wedding ring, some electronic devices, or my grandmother's antique pocket watch. Can I just interrupt this narrative to add that Bob is overseas for the next 5 days and nearly impossible to reach? Because he is, and it is not easy. And when I couldn't call him to come home and help me talk the kids through things I very nearly hyperventilated in my own front yard. The police officer was very kind and not very encouraging. He made a report and everything and basically said we'd never get any of it back. I appreciate the honesty but it was hard to hear. A dear friend came over to check on us, because he knew its scary to be burglarized and wanted to check on us. It was very soothing. My children were already overtired from a late night watching fireworks last night, and the upheaval brought them to a new low. I think they should all have gone to bed at probably 4:30pm. But they wouldn't, so we just had lots of screaming and fits and fighting while I dealt with the aftermath and tried to remain moderately collected. I've had 2 late nights in a row before this and my exhaustion was a major hindrance. My mother was an enormous help which was good. They only took things, and not very many of them, and everyone is safe and I am so very thankful for that; at the same time I am angry and frightened and annoyed and tired. It's been a very confusing day. I miss my husband and wish he were here to help me feel safe. I know God will keep me secure, but I also know secure doesn't always mean safe. Perhaps I will learn something from this experience that will change me or my life. At the moment I think I will mostly learn how to fill out insurance claim forms. I really am exhausted and need to sleep. Good night.