Psalm Twenty-Four: Open the Gates

"Lift up your heads, O you gates; be lifted up you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.  

Who is the King of glory?  The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle.  

Lift up your heads, O you gates; lift them up, you ancient doors that the King of glory may come in.  

Who is he- this King of glory?  

The LORD Almighty- he is the King of Glory."  v 7-10

God, 

It is easy to trust in You when nothing is happening- to just be still and know that you are God and rest in hope and realize that Your promises will one day come to fruition.  But when what I have prayed for begins to happen, I feel familiar walls start being rebuilt.  God, I do not want to stop knowing who You are because I am afraid of what You may or may not do in my life.  Like the psalmist asks, please lift up my head- that I may see You, the King of glory, more clearly and intimately than I've ever known before.  

I wrote this two and a half weeks after I found out I was pregnant with Molly.  I was finally coming out of my valley of the shadow of death.  It was more difficult to trust God with my life and the life of my child than ever before.  But this pregnancy was different.  It wasn't about God giving me what I wanted. It was about God giving me more of Himself- and that was far more important.  

Fast forward to now... I am stuck.  Psalm 34 is baffling me.  I haven't illustrated a Psalm in 2 months because I can't come up with an illustration for it.  However, I've been very content reliving old lessons, splashing my journal with color, and cataloging my journey.  In the valleys it is easy to feel God comforting, but it is very difficult to see God moving.  Looking back, being removed from grief a bit, I can see how God was moving and orchestrating so much that only now I'm able to appreciate.  

When I opened my journal this morning to find this illustration, a song came to mind.  Here is my three year old nephew singing it to a very colicky 6 week old Molly.  I'm sad the first line is cut off, but you'll get the idea...    and apologies for the text being messed up when I embedded the video.  

Open the gates and seize the day.

Don't be afraid and don't delay.

Nothing can brake us

No one can make us

Give our rights away

Arise and Seize the Day!

(My sister and brother-in-law are indoctrinating their son with all things Disney. This is from the movie, Newsies.)

I woke up today with quite the opposite outlook on life. I was dreading the day. Brenda was coming over. And to make matters worse, the house was a wreck. Dirty dishes in the sink, baskets of laundry that still needed folding, toys that have run amuck and were somehow in the kitchen, strewn strollers in the dinning room, carpets that needed vacuuming, and children that needed -as always- to be bathed, changed, fed, and entertained. I have come to the conclusion that I don't really care what people think of my house anymore, but I really really don't want Brenda thinking that Josiah is living in a hovel. I wish I was a better housekeeper. Right now I'm concentrating on being a good mom, and that's about all I have time/energy for. Don't judge, please.

And today, I was just not in the mood for sharing my children with people. Some days, I'm really okay with it- despite the constant whining on my blog. I just wasn't in the mood to flick on the "Oh I'm so happy you're here to disrupt nap time, make my son cry, and hear about how you're so close to getting certified" switch. I was overwhelmed. Clutter in every corner has a way of doing that. All I wanted to do was

1- enjoy my children, (but I couldn't because I had to clean)

2- not share them with any family but my own, (but Brenda was coming)

3- clean my house, (but I can't do much at once because of two screaming children. Some people can work while their children are crying, but I can't. It stresses me out. Why not do it at the end of the day when they are in bed, you ask? Because I'm plumb-tuckered by that point, that's why.)

4- and enjoy the 78 degree weather. (but we couldn't because Brenda would be here the only time Josiah and Molly are awake at the same time and she would want to stay inside.)

So here I was, thinking of this Psalm, with a Disney musical soundtrack flooding my brain as I'm changing a diaper ...and I thought about something that my mom taught my sisters and me:

"When you can't change the situation... you have to change your 

attitude." 

Lift up your heads, O you gates; be lifted up you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in. 

Open the gates and seize the day.  

This was my thought: I'm only getting one chance to live this day.  If I'm going to live it and enjoy it, I have to change my attitude, because I certainly can't change my situation.  I prayed that God would change my outlook on the day. I gave my anxiety to Him, and prayed that I would enjoy all the little blessings that I would otherwise miss if I was too busy stomping around and slamming cabinet doors all morning.     

So my day started out like any other, but today I was deliberate about drinking in all the little details that I am quick to overlook - I gave Molly a bath, nursed her, dressed her and then fed Josiah his sippy cup of milk, changed him, gave him the important job of holding the socks while they both sat on my lap and we slid down the stairs together making a big "boom" sound with each step we hit.  I love hearing them belly laugh at the same time. We read some books, watched Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, danced the hotdog dance, and I put the kiddos in their seats for breakfast.  I gave them each a fist full of Cheerios while I got the rest of their breakfast ready.  I replied to Brenda's text confirming her visit at two o'clock.  I ended it with a smiley face trying to convince myself that yes, I was going to be happy about it.  (I actually was kind of was feeling okay about it.)    

Just as we were cleaning up from breakfast, a DYFS van pulled into my driveway.  The worker at the door confirmed my fear that Josiah had visitation today at the office.  Wonderful.  It would have been nice if someone told me. The house was still a mess.  Josiah's bag wasn't packed and his pants didn't match his shirt.  I kicked into my "I'm going to be flexible and happy about it" gear.  The woman was so sweet and understanding and patient while I threw some crackers and applesauce in his bag and put his shoes on and kissed his tear-streaked face.    

After he left, I put Molly down for a nap and I cleaned the whole house in a half an hour.  Its amazing how I can be overwhelmed for days with a mess that takes 30 minutes to clean up.  But.... I don't have 30 minutes to clean during the day usually.  They never nap at the same time- so I really never have time to just clean.  It felt awesome and cathartic.  I also called Brenda to cancel her visit because Josiah would now be missing his morning nap.  

An hour later, I got a call from my caseworker to tell me that Josiah's parents had just called to let her know that they wanted to cancel the visit today.  The poor worker had to drive all the way back to deliver Josiah back home.  I fed the babies lunch, and tried putting them both down for a nap at the same time to no avail.  So... I opted to take them for a walk in the sunshine.  And as I walked I thought about how this day started and how it ended. I....

1- enjoyed my children

2- didn't have to share Josiah with Brenda or his crazy parents

3- got my house clean and

4- got to enjoy this 78 degree glorious blue-skied day.  

Funny.  I wonder if I never changed my attitude if God wouldn't have changed my situation.  I seized the day.  I opened the gates.  I saw the how amazing the King of glory can direct my life when I surrender my day to Him.  

Chapter 27: Surrounded by Stones

I talked with my friend Jen on the phone Thursday.  That girl has some lessons to share.  I hope you are reading her blog, despite the fact that doing so requires a box of Kleenex.  I always walk away from our conversations with overwhelming emotions- joy, sadness, hope, peace, pride, thankfulness, and anticipation for the next time we will get to spend together.   She is iron that sharpens me, and the last time we talked she left a lasting impression on me with six simple words.   I hope, Jen, that you don't mind me sharing.  If you do...I'll take this next part out.


This is what she shared with me:


"I know that God loves me."


She told me that before Lydia was born, God brought her through a two and a half year valley and when she walked through it, this is the lesson that she emerged with.  So when Lydia came, she didn't have to question this simple fact.  The lesson was learned.  She could stand on that promise despite anything that she faced.


This was a novel concept for me, even though it shouldn't be:  There are Christians that learn lessons and then APPLY them to difficult situations that they are faced with.  They don't need to relearn them.  Jen is one of those people, and on Thursday, I decided that I wanted to be one of those people too.




Today was a difficult day.  Today was another day in court.  Its a day that starts out with a dry lump in the back of my throat that grows until its a pit in my stomach, sweaty palms rubbed on pant legs, chewed fingernails, and feet that fall asleep.  Its a day of awkward conversations with Josiah's family members, thankful prayers for a husband who can parallel park, a few rounds of spelling games when I run out of things to talk about with Justin, and trying to read a book and reading the same line over and over again and still not being able to tell you what it says.  I am a wreck.  I was trying to think of Bible verses to comfort and calm me down, and instead a story came to mind.


I thought about the Israelites when they crossed the Jordan river.  I love the part when they gather stones to make a memorial of that miraculous day, and when it was finished they say that it would stand forever as a testimony to generations to come that God was faithful to them.


Joshua 4:1-6 (NKJV) And it came to pass, when all the people had completely crossed over the Jordan, that the Lord spoke to Joshua, saying: “Take for yourselves twelve men from the people, one man from every tribe, and command them, saying, ‘Take for yourselves twelve stones from here, out of the midst of the Jordan, from the place where the priests’ feet stood firm. You shall carry them over with you and leave them in the lodging place where you lodge tonight.’ ” Then Joshua called the twelve men whom he had appointed from the children of Israel, one man from every tribe; and Joshua said to them: “Cross over before the ark of the Lord your God into the midst of the Jordan, and each one of you take up a stone on his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the children of Israel, that this may be a sign among you when your children ask in time to come, saying, ‘What do these stones mean to you?’…21″When your children ask their fathers in time to come, saying, ‘What are these stones?’ 22 then you shall let your children know, saying, ‘Israel crossed over this Jordan on dry land’; 23 for the Lord your God dried up the waters of the Jordan before you until you had crossed over, as the Lord your God did to the Red Sea, which He dried up before us until we had crossed over, 24 that all the peoples of the earth may know the hand of the Lord, that it is mighty, that you may fear the Lord your God forever.”




That's what I feel like this blog has become to me.  Every post is another stone to add to the pile as a testimony to God's faithfulness.  So when difficult days like today come, I can look back and see how God has been faithful in my past.  Its a declaration of the verse, "In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps."  Proverbs 16:9.  It doesn't matter what case workers, lawyers, judges, law guardians, foster parents, grandparents, or great-aunts say.  God's will is going to be done.  In His time.  In His way.  For His purpose.  I don't want to learn old lessons anymore.  When I post about the lessons that God has taught me in the past through the Psalms, I want to feel like I've grown since then.  I want to ADD to the pile- not kick stones down in fits of rage when I forget why I put them there in the first place.    

I have seen God move again and again in Josiah's life.  That kid has a whole stack of stones piled up in his life that declare God's faithfulness.  It was a good reminder to think about that as I waited for our docket to be called.  


In the end, one of the lawyers didn't show up, so they had to postpone the court date until June 21st.  Outwardly, it was a colossal waste of time.  But inwardly, this was the lesson I emerged with, so I think it was worth making the trek to Atlantic City Family Court.  


We did find out that we will have a bonding evaluation with him on August 4th.  I love when I hear about dates that aren't "soonish."  That means Josiah will still be with us when that date rolls around.  The bonding evaluation will determine if Josiah is too bonded with us for the courts to remove him from our home.  That's a direction that you can be praying if you would like- that Josiah will be so comfortable with us and it will be extremely obvious to the psychologists who will be doing the evaluation.  Thank you, thank you, thank you, to all that have prayed so far.  It means more to us than you'll ever know.  We see God moving and working and slowing things down in a miraculous way so that Josiah will be able to stay with us longer.  We know that this is all an answer to our prayers!  

Today was a stone-stacking kind of day.  I am thankful.  

      

Upcoming Court

For those of you who follow Josiah's story, I would ask that you join your hearts in prayer for our next upcoming court date- Monday, May 17th.

I'm not really sure what is going to be happening, but I know Brenda is getting closer to finishing what she needs to do to be certified to adopt Josiah.

I would ask you to please pray that the judge will ask for a bonding evaluation and that it would show that he is too bonded to us at this point to be removed from our home.

Josiah is spending this Saturday with his grandparents and brother today, and right now Molly is napping.  The house seems strangely quiet.  I don't like it.  I didn't like feeding just one baby at lunch, and as much as I complain about them never napping at the same time, I am missing the business of always caring for one of them.  It's a small reminder of how it may be in a few months if God doesn't choose to intervene here.  I know it's only a day.  We're going at 7:00 to pick him up.  Even so, I miss him.

Thank you so much for all of your prayers for our little boy.  I know God hears them, and I praise Him in anticipation knowing that His will is going to be done, even if my definition of "good" and His definition of "good" is different.

Psalm Twenty-Three: Your Staff Comforts Me

"The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.  

He makes me lie down in green pastures, 

he leads me beside still waters, 

he restores my soul.  

He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.  

Even though I walk through the valley of shadow of death I will fear no evil, for you are with me.  

Your rod and your staff they comfort me."  v. 1-4

I learned this Psalm when I was in my pre-school Sunday school class.  In unison, my class and I would chant this and the Lord's prayer every Sunday.  I had no idea what it meant, but I could repeat all of the words back to you if you asked- King James Version.  (My Sunday School teacher, Aunt Sis, as everyone called her, was THE matriarch of our church.  You did what she told you to do.  She was hard-core and awesome.)  So because I can quote it from rote memory, its not a Psalm I read often, or even think about much because it seems like such a "cliche" Bible verse. The psalm is so familiar even you, dear reader, probably skipped over reading it because you already know it so well.  

But this time when I read it, I really took my time to digest and ponder all that it means.  It is so rich in symbolism and imagery that it is not difficult to illustrate.   I always have loved Biblical imagery about shepherds and sheep because I grew up on a 30 acre sheep farm.  (Yes, I was a 4-H nerd.) I feel like I can vividly imagine what a shepherd looks like as he gazes over his flock.  I can smell the smells of sheep- wet wool and dewy grass, and straw, and yes, all the smells that come from sheep.  I know how stupid sheep are and how dependent they are on their owner.  They are defenseless- they don't even have top teeth to bite their enemies.  All they can do is eat, walk, and produce wooly fleeces.  

I love the idea that God is my shepherd.  I love that He calls me a sheep.  It puts our relationship in perspective.  I can see how much he loves me.  I can see how much I should depend on him.  

I was a sponge when I read Psalm 23 this time.  I know I may be reading into these too much, but this is what I felt God was telling me through these verses.  

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not be in want.  

As in, "I'm in control of you.  When you accept all that I have and all that I AM, you're not going to feel like you need anything else but me."    

He makes me lie down in green pastures.  

 "Here you go, here are all the rich blessings I want you to enjoy.  I'll take you exactly to the places where I know you can grow the most.  We're going to sit down in this place and just rest here together for a while."

He leads me beside still waters.

 "Stay right behind me, I know where I'm going.  I know this place where we can go together and you'll feel refreshed."

He restores my soul.  

 "Remember how you felt before you were so weary?  You're going to feel that way again, because it's going to be ME that does the healing, not you."  

He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake.  

"Follow me, and I'm going to show you the path that others before you have taken to heal.  The others that took this path remained righteous and upright because they trusted me.  They did this not for themselves, but because they wanted to honor me through their journey."

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for you are with me.   

"It didn't catch me by surprise that we're in this place together.  You were following me.  I know it is scary.  I know you can't imagine what we are doing here.  I know that shadows are cold and you miss the pastures and water.  But look what we are doing.  We aren't lying down and resting here.  We're not stopping to drink.  We are WALKING.  We are moving.  Don't fear the shadows.  I placed them there so you'd stay close to me while we walk here together."

Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.    

"And if you don't believe me, look what I have in my hand.  See?  It's my staff.  I know there are going to be times when you're not going to want to listen to my voice.  I know there will be times when you question why we're here.  That's when I'll gently prod you and remind you that we have better places to go together.  This rod and staff are proof of that.  I wouldn't need it if this was the place I intended on staying forever with you."

I wrote this in my Psalms Illustrated journal the night I found out that I was pregnant with Molly.  I felt familiar emotions- joy mixed with anticipation and worry and fear.  I felt the cold shadows of the valley of death creeping up behind me again.  I didn't want to hope again and be disappointed.  I trusted God with other pregnancies, and what good did it do?  It seemed pointless to imagine that this pregnancy could produce a different outcome than those that preceded it.  I think it's funny how God puts images in your mind and uses them to prod you where you need to go.  For me, it was the staff- a curly swirl that I kept seeing over and over- in the wrought iron of my clock, in the branches of a tree, in the cream of my tea when I stirred it into my cup.  Was it God telling me we had better places to go this time?  I don't know.  I should have believed Him.  What did I do instead?  I stopped reading my Bible for two weeks.  

I am such a sheep.  

      

       

Psalm Twenty-Two: Cry of Anguish, Song of Praise

"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?


Far from my deliverance are the words of my groaning.  O my God, I cry by day but Thou dost not answer; and by night but I have no rest. 


Yet Thou art holy, O Thou who art enthroned upon the praises of Israel.  


In thee our fathers trusted, they trusted and thou didst deliver them.  To thee they cried out, and were delivered, In Thee they trusted and were not disappointed."  v. 1-5 


God, sometimes when I see how you have blessed others, I am so downhearted.  But perhaps you prove your faithfulness to others not just because You are good to those that love You.  I pray that the blessings that others are given would deepen my trust that you are a God who delivers.  I pray that when my story is over, it will show, like the story of the Israelites, that those who put their trust in You will not be disappointed.

   In this illustration, I drew three vines, each receiving needed refreshment from the waterfall above.  Each are at different stages of growth, yet each was getting enough water to thrive.  The largest of vines, which had climbed the longest, seen the most seasons, and weathered the most storms, had produced the most fruit.  It clung to the rock, not only to fulfill its purpose of productivity, but also to stand as a testament to the other younger vines beside it.  

Here are my two sisters and me.  Amy is on the left and Robin is in the center.  

  

We are all two years apart from each other.  I am the middle sister- in every sense of the word.  If you are a middle sibling, you'll understand.  I was what my mom called, "the score keeper."  My sole purpose on this earth, I believed, was to make sure everything was "fair."  Equal amounts of juice in our cups, equal amounts of money being spent on birthdays and Christmases, equal amounts of allotted spoonfuls of cookie dough.  Yes, ridiculous.  But nonetheless, a very vital role, I thought.         

At this point in my journey, Amy had become a mom to her 2 1/2 year old foster son, Jesse.  My friend Jen had just called me to tell me she was pregnant.  Friends at church were either pregnant or had just had babies.  It seemed that God was blessing everyone with children except for me.       

God and I had many conversations starting with, "God...this isn't fair." I'm sure He really appreciated me telling Him how He could make things "even" if He were to only make me a mom.  Right?

 Reading this Psalm was a real aha! moment for me.  

"Far from my deliverance are the words of my groaning.  O my God, I cry by day but Thou dost not answer; and by night but I have no rest. 

Yet Thou art holy, O Thou who art enthroned upon the praises of Israel."  

It felt like there was still such a great distance between me calling out to God and deliverance from pain.  But the Psalmist resolves his struggle, not with God rescuing him from trouble, but through praising Him.  He tells God that He is holy and that He's still on the throne.   

In thee our fathers trusted, they trusted and thou didst deliver them.  To thee they cried out, and were delivered, In Thee they trusted and were not disappointed.

The Psalmist reassures himself that God has been faithful to those in the past, and he could therefore trust God with his future.  

I felt like I could now shift my thinking from "God, why do you choose to bless other women and not me?" to "God, You've proven yourself faithful to them, I can trust You and not be disappointed -not because my circumstances might change, but because You never do."  

Chapter 26: High Notes

I had time for 2 entries this morning.  Both kids are napping at the same time.  *MIRACLE*

I feel like if this blog had a theme song, it would be played way below middle C.  I guess that's just the way I originally set it up- a place to record my "deeper thoughts" and feelings and things God was teaching me about Himself and His Word and His people He places in my life.

My life isn't always sunshine and rainbows, but some days are.  Some days are filled with so much joy that I feel like its spilling over.

Here's a few examples of some of these moments.

*Disclaimer* Before you watch the following,  please ignore the very high-pitched voice.  Sometimes I feel like I've talked all day in it, and it's going to get stuck that way.  


Josiah walks



Molly claps


Josiah sings Muppets


I really really love my life.

Psalm Twenty-One: Answered Prayer Plus

"O LORD, the king rejoices in your strength.  How great is his joy in the victories you give!  You have granted him the desire of his heart and have not withheld the request of his lips.  You welcomed him with rich blessings and placed a crown of pure gold on his head.


 He asked you for life, and you gave it to him- length of days, for ever and ever.


Through the victories you gave, his glory is great; you have bestowed him splendor and majesty.  Surely you have granted him eternal blessings and made him glad with the joy of your presence.


For the king trusts in the LORD; through the unfailing love of the most high he will not be shaken."  v. 1-7

God, when David asked for victory and you spared his life, I wonder if he knew that by doing so, he would eventually be in the lineage of the Messiah?  How small is the scope of our requests and understanding, yet you grant them and bestow so much more than we could ever think to ask for.  Through David's victory, you gave him

 his own life, 

glory for himself, 

eternal blessings from heaven, 

joy in Your presence, 

and most importantly- added to his faith and ensured him that You are a God who loves him.  

God, may I trust in Your unfailing love in the same way that David did even before my requests are answered.  

In this illustration, I drew three little eggs that had hatched.  A few weeks earlier, I drew a bird sitting on three eggs to represent the three babies I had lost. 

 They were waiting, sitting under the protection of their Father in Heaven.  But after I read this Psalm, God changed the way that I viewed these children.  They weren't stagnant anymore and their purpose wasn't unfulfilled.  They were now all that God created them to be.  Whole and perfect and victorious.  I drew the nest like a crown- "death swallowed up in victory."  I knew that, if God never made me a mother and granted my requests like I thought He would or should, God was filling me with the joy of His presence and given me eternal blessings, and why should that not be enough?  (ETERNAL.  I can not fathom the word.  Blessings for EVVVVVVERRRRRRRRRR.)  Why am I such a complainer?        

This seems like a theme that has been resurfacing in my life over and over now.  I don't know if its discouraging to revisit old lessons and realize that what I thought I learned I do not continue to put into practice like I should, or encouraging to see these lessons again and know that God refuses to leave me unchanged.  

I've been going to a women's Bible Study on Tuesday mornings.  It is 2 hours of awesomeness-   so many nuggets of wisdom and encouragement that I barely have enough time to scribble them all down.  What was the theme this week?  Gratitude.  Of course.  Gena, our Bible Study leader was talking about "dancing on the Egyptian side of the Red Sea."  When God promised to deliver the Israelites from the hands of the Egyptians, they did not believe Him until they had crossed the Red Sea.  So they waited until it happened before they started to celebrate the goodness of God.  What blessings had they missed out on by not believing God before this miracle happened, and even after it happened?  What did their faithlessness produce?  A whole generation that missed out on seeing the Promised Land.  An ingratitude for what God had done spread like cancer amongst the Israelites.   So they wandered for forty years.  I really hope it doesn't take me that long before I learn to appreciate what God has given me- all the things that I can see now and all that I won't see until I'm in Heaven.

Lydia

I am sad for my friend.

Lydia Eileen went home to be with Jesus on Wednesday.  I wanted to post sooner.  I was waiting for the grieving in my heart to be over, for insight to come, for lessons to be learned and shared, an encouraging sentiment to inspire.  Nothing.  Nothing will come.

I am just sad for my friend.

Why is it so much easier to reconcile the goodness of God to His sovereignty when it is a trial that you are walking through yourself?  Am I too busy shaking my fist and declaring, "It should have been me not her!"? Do I feel guilty for having what I do knowing that Jen deserved it more than I do?  Yes, maybe that's it.  I know it's not Jen who makes me feel this way.  She loves Molly.  She even wanted her at Lydia's reception.

I know Lydia's brokenness is now healed completely.  It is not for her that I grieve.  I am sad that my friend doesn't have her little girl anymore, as difficult as it was to watch her suffer.  I want Jen to have what I have.  I ache for it more than I wanted it for myself.  If my prayers could bring that to fruition, that baby would have been here long ago.

Why is it that God plants a desire in our heart and watches us suffer before He fulfills it?  Is it so we will give Him the glory for it when it finally does come?  It is that a lesson needs to be learned, maybe not even by us but by others?  Is it because God is trying to conform us more to the image of His Son?  All of these I know are true.

Yet, I ache for the wholeness of Heaven and Home to be felt by all that knew Lydia, but especially for Jen and Micah.  Please, please continue to lift them up in your prayers.

Chapter 25: "The Talk"

That's right.  Thundering applause, people.  I had it.  "The talk."  The one I was dreading and sweating over for months.  I told Brenda we want to keep our Josiah.  The words came out.  finally.  I practically prayed them out until they rolled off of my tongue better than I ever thought they would come.  Turns out waiting for God's timing was what I had to do.  Shocker.  Do you think I'd learn the whole patience thing yet?

I thought our talk last week had produced my desired results of NOT coming to my house anymore for visits.  Since they haven't been set up yet at the DYFS office, and she still wanted to see him this week, she called me and wanted to come over.  I told her that she was always welcome, but I really wanted to stay in the room with them.  My heart had barely healed over the excruciating episode that was last week.  I couldn't take the crying anymore. His or mine.

We small-talked for about an hour while Josiah played on the floor and Molly napped upstairs. Then she asked me a question...

"When you got Josiah dedicated at your church, did you name Godparents for him?"

I told her that we didn't.  Then she said, "Well, when he comes to live with me, I would like for you and Justin to be his Godparents.  And he can still call you "mama" and "dada" and I want you to pray for him and have a spiritual influence over him."

I started crying.  So much for a visit without tears.  I told her how much it meant to be able to still be a part of his life, and that the hardest part of all of this was thinking that Josiah would grow up without a daddy.  Tears.  Tears.  And he already had a good one.  More tears.  Justin was an amazing dad, and I didn't want to see Josiah lose his daddy.  I was so afraid that not having a dad would affect the way he viewed his Heavenly Father.  And I just wanted him to know how much he was loved.

She told me how much she understood how hard this was for us and hated seeing us in pain.  After adopting four children herself she understood how bonded we felt to him.  Her own daughter is now trying to adopt a baby whose family might take her away.  She gets it.  from all angles.  She told us she only wished we could see it from hers.

"I have to admit," I said, "I pray that he can stay.  I don't see him any differently than I see Molly.  He is my son like she is my daughter, and if I think if it any differently, Molly gets gipped.  I read to HIM more, I sing to HIM more, I go to HIM when they both cry.  And I miss all of the wonderful little moments of Molly's life that I need to be savoring as her mama.  But if I think he's staying, I can focus on them both and treasure them BOTH."

She told me that if I didn't want to keep him, she would worry that I didn't love him like he deserves to be loved.  And she knows how much he's loved and cared for here.  "When I think about you guys keeping him," she said, "I just go back to what you told me what you prayed- that you wanted to give a loving home to a child who needed one.  You have to wrong baby for that- he already has a loving home to go to."

"Did you ever pray about the possibility of him staying here?" I asked.  I was shocked at my own brazenness.      

She told me the story how God had opened all the doors for her to come to New Jersey despite her strong desire never to return to the state.  It pretty much put my Josiah story to shame all the pieces that fell into place for her to get here.  Then she said something that would take a really mature Christian to say.  "Maybe God brought me here for a different reason than to get Josiah.  I don't think so, but maybe He did.  That's why I feel so comfortable waiting for God's perfect timing to reveal his perfect will."  She told me how she felt I had been so mislead by all the caseworkers who gave me hope that he could stay.  She was always told that they always look at family first.

I told her we had been praying about whether or not to fight in court for him, and I was leaning towards that we were.  If God was going to have Josiah to stay with us, I didn't want to close the door by not allowing every possibility to stay open.  Does that make sense?  But, I told her, if we lost, I was afraid that if we did that, the family would get angry and lose contact with us and we'd never see Josiah again.

Brenda said that would never happen.  Every action that we would exhibit to try to keep him would only be because we loved him so much, not because we didn't love his family.

I agreed.  I told her how excited I was when we heard it was going to be an open adoption, how we would get to minister not just to a baby, but a whole family.  Our intention was never to take him away from his family, but to include them as a part of ours.

I told her how afraid I was to tell her I wanted Josiah to stay.  She said with how much Justin and I love him, she already knew.

To recap...

She now knows we want to keep him.
She now knows we want to fight for him.
She now knows how much we love him.

And I now know...
That even if we didn't get to keep him, the family won't hate us for trying to.
That Brenda is a true sister in Christ that is just seeking God's will for Josiah's life, just like I am.


It's hard not knowing God's will at the end of the story, but it sure feels good to know I'm in God's will in the middle of it.  It feels good to have a sister in Christ to walk this road with me.  How strange it is we both want the same end to our path, but we trust that the One who created the road intends His perfect will to be done in the life of our little boy---for Josiah's greatest good and for His greatest glory.

Chapter 24: The worst sound in the world

Another week.  Another visit.  Pretty soon I'm going to stop complaining about them, but not today.  Today was torture.  I have never seen Josiah hate anyone like he hates his aunt.  He cries when he sees her, and not just cries- wails.  Snot covered, gasping for breath, tear-streamed beet-red face.  For an hour.  I was upstairs putting clothes away trying to close every drawer and closet as quiet as I possibly could so my little boy would forget I was there.  I know I'm over-reacting, but this was all I could relate my experience to:  





Yeah, I know I'm being dramatic, but it felt like the sound of ultimate 
suffering.  It felt like my heart was being ripped in two. I just wanted my little boy probably just as much as he wanted me. Maybe more.   Just when I thought the sound couldn't get any worse it did.
The crying stopped.
He started playing.
He was okay without me.

It was the worst sound in the world.

We both decided that visiting in my home was not the best idea and are going to schedule weekly visits in the DYFS office now. I don't like seeing him drive away, but I think the incessant crying, or not crying, is worse.

Art Night and Psalm Coloring

Elise Carey is a missionary with YWAM and long-time family friend.  Some of my most favorite childhood memories include her.  She taught my sisters and I amazing skills like how to whistle through a straw, how to make an around-the-corner spit-ball shooter, she introduced us to the "Ben and Jerry's Party" (everyone gets a flavor, devours for a minute, timer goes off, pass to the right...until you feel like you're going to die from sugar shock....love it!)  and she instilled within our family a love for Duke basketball.  She has been a missionary all over the world and is now serving in Latvia.  When she was home in the States one year, I had her come speak to a couple of my art classes.  She posed a question to my students that I still ponder from time to time and it is this...

How can Christians use the arts to build the kingdom of God?  

Elise is a out-of-the-box thinker who uses her creativity and passion to bring others to a saving knowledge of Jesus.  Her answer?  A little get-together she calls "Art Night."  She invites both Christians and non-Christians, and anyone else they want to bring- to come to her apartment once a month for the purpose of creativity and fellowship.  Guitar playing, singing, painting, drawing, and of course, eating.  She even has theme night like Chocolate night, where they not only eat chocolate, but draw with it!  She's had a Mexican night, a free-trade night, and an art night by candle light.

I have always loved this idea and knew it was something that I wanted to start in my own home.  And last night was our first Art Night, and I hope there will be many to follow!  I invited a few students, alumni, and teachers on facebook.  I told them to bring anything they wanted to work on- knitting, painting, drawing, photo editing, coloring books- whatever! I made tea squares and homemade chai.  The downstairs was spic and span and I plugged in some extra lights to make sure the room was properly lit for optimal creative endeavors.  We listened to christian music via iTunes and the wonderful Christian radio stations they provide.  One student and one teacher came, but despite the lack of attendance, I think it was a complete success.  It started at 7:00 and was supposed to end at 9:00, but they stayed until 11:00, and would have gone later if the student didn't have a cinderella license.  Why why WHY did I not take pictures to share?!?!  Because I was too busy coloring, talking, laughing, and being a hostess.  The student said it was, "the best night of her entire school year."  Have I mentioned how much I miss students?

If you are a creative person, you know how important it is to surround yourself with creative people.  I miss the fellowship of the art building in college.  The critiques, the hot chocolate breaks, the encouraging comments, the urgency to create art on a deadline.  It's been a long time since I've been "an artist" rather than an "art teacher."  Two thumbs up for Art Night.

So what did I make?  I wanted to work on a project for a friend, but after the discouraging realization of  how out of shape my drafting skills have become, I opted for some good old fashioned coloring.  But not with crayons or markers.  My magnificent 132 count Premier Prismacolor Color Pencils.  I am an art geek to the core, and I LOVE my Prismacolors.  They are magic when you mix their rich waxy pigments together to form new colors over top of each other.  I sharpen them with an exacto knife and sanding block just so they will last longer.

I always wanted to add a little color to my Psalms Illustrated journal, and last night I colored 4 illustrations.  Originally, I wanted to keep the drawings black and white because I thought if I put too much stress on myself to bring them each to a finished colored state, I would never do many of them.  But as I go back and revisit them, I am finding it so much fun to add the colors that I have always imagined were already there.  I have reposted some of my colored illustrations under the "color" label to the right if you want to take a look.

I can't wait for next month's art night.  :o)  I am still buzzing from creative juices... or maybe its from the chai.

Psalm Twenty: Now I Know

"May the LORD answer you when you are in distress; may the name of the God of Jacob protect you.  May he send you help from the sanctuary and support you from Zion." v 1-2


"May he give you the desire of your heart and may all your plans succeed.  We will shout for joy when you are victorious and will lift up our banners in the name of our God.  May the LORD grant all of your requests."  v. 4-5


"NOW I KNOW that the LORD saves his anointed; he answers him from his holy heaven with saving power of his right hand." v. 6

God, I pray that you will allow my experiences to always attest to your faithfulness.  Help me be a source of strength when those around me struggle.  How I long to be able to look back and say, "NOW I KNOW you worked in ways only You could."  Give me patience and hope until that day comes, and help me never fail to see how in my weakness you can show yourself strong.

In this drawing, a climber who has weathered the storms and trials his life is making his way up the mountain toward peace and rest- God.  Along the way, since the road is familiar, he is helping a friend who is struggling up the same path.

I've decided that I've needed to add another layer to what these Psalms have become to me.  These were written a long time ago- I'm now up to Psalm 34 and am taking my time posting them. I love how my Josiah Story and Psalms have been knit together as I revisit lessons that I've learned and now need to re-learn. I know it's probably confusing to write them into the story this way.  I wish I would have been blogging all along my journey.  But since I haven't, I'll try to take you through what this Psalm meant in my life when I first read it...and what it has taught me since.

I wrote this on December 20, 2008.  We had just finished taking our DYFS classes and I couldn't wait to be done with the process and finally get our first placement.   And I had just been diagnosed with my condition of having a "unicornuate uterus," making chances of carrying a pregnancy to full-term close to impossible.  We had just lost baby #4.  So that's where I was.  Waiting.  and not too happy about it, but trying to be.

On December 21, 2008, on an early Sunday morning before Justin was awake and I had to get ready to go to church, having tried to digest the passage and actually believe what I had written about it the day before, I wrote these words.  I penned them on a loose leaf notebook page, tore it out and stuck it in the back of my Psalms Illustrated Journal....



"I've often heard it said that we grow the most as Christians when we're in the valleys, walking amongst the shadow of death- filled with grief and letting God's rod and staff comfort us.  But it is here when we realize we need God the most- He is never nearer or more real to us than when we are in pain.  I believe that the true faith of a Christian does not grow the most in this place.  It is when the sting of death leaves us, and while it still lingers like a scar that won't go away, we need to carry on with our everyday lives, still not seeing the full purpose of our own suffering.  So slowly, painstakingly, and persistently with God's help, we start climbing again, trying to gain distance from pain, trying not to look back but knowing God still wants you to.  


Here I climb in the in-between.  Hovering over the hurt - yet yearning for the top of the spiritual mountain wanting so desperately to gain perspective that may never come.  


     But as I slowly climb, I am learning more and more about the character of this God I thought I knew so intimately, and clearly did not.  As I climb I am gaining time and space and a tiny glimpse of what my life might be like someday.  And as I climb, God gives me opportunities to share my story with others who may need to hear it.  God also gives me a sense of relief, knowing He allowed this little pain in my life to come now because He knew I couldn't handle an even larger pain later.  I want so badly to be GLAD- by seeing what God has saved me FROM.  


     And sometimes when I am climbing, I have a sense of joy, knowing someday that I will know what God saved me FOR.  This is what HOPE is.  Wishing, wanting, praying, dreaming.  The longer I'm here, the larger my dream gets.  The sweeter the victory will taste one day.  God is allowing me to look around and see that this journey we're on together is much bigger than just the two of us.  


     So I wait here in the in-between, in a place where God says, "wait" and "be still" and "know that I am God."  I am glad to see what God has saved me from and hopeful for what He has saved me for, and I am content that he loves me enough to save me at all.  


I am neither in the valley nor on the mountain, but I am growing closer to my Savior because of it.  


"Glad": being thankful for what God has saved you from
"Hope": imagining what God has saved you for
"Contentment": being thankful God saved you at all"


I was particularly weepy that morning.  More emotional than usual.  Little did I know that I was pregnant again - this time with our Molly Grace- when I wrote these words.  Little did I know that a stranger who would become my son was due to be born in 3 months.  I knew little.  I hurt much.  


Now...what do the verses from Psalm twenty teach me?  


Am I finally at the top of the mountain I desperately wanted to get to?  
       
       No.  
A year and a half later, I'm still climbing, but looking down now, I don't see my pain, I see so many others who are on this path too.  And I look up and see faithful Christians encouraging me who have already traveled this road. I am thankful that the higher I climb, the more I see this enormous picture I never imagined.  I see how many lives are affected.  I see how the climb isn't all about me anymore.   


Am I still in pain from all the losses God brought into my life?  
       
       Yes, but not as much.  
 The pain still lingers, but the sting is now gone.  I'm glad it still hurts.  I'm glad my babies made a lasting impact on my life.  But, unlike what I imagined it would be, I'm not motivated by grief- to try to distance myself from it as much as I possibly can.  I am motivated by my love for them.  I'm excited that they made a difference in me, and will now make a difference to others.        


Am I glad?  


YES!  I can say that now! 


Am I hopeful?  


 My hope has been fulfilled through the gift of my daughter.  It still lingers in the desire to keep my son.

Am I content?  


Oh I wish I could say that.  I wish I could say that everyday I think about the sacrifice that Christ has given so my babies could live and that I could live with them one day.  Contentment is something I need to work on. Climb, climb, climb, Megan.  But stop doing it on your own strength.     

"NOW I KNOW that the LORD saves his anointed; he answers him from his holy heaven with saving power of his right hand." 

What, dear reader, is this Psalm teaching you today?  

Psalm Nineteen: Heavens Declare

"The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.  Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.  There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard." v 1-3


In the heavens he has pitched a tent for the sun, which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion, like a champion rejoicing to run his course.  It rises at one end of the heavens and makes its circuit to the other; nothing is hidden from its heat." v 4b-6

Dear God, You have made Yourself known simply by the work of your hands.  Your creation alone shows your power and when I look up to the sky, I see how much you have under your control.  Everyone on earth can see your creation and is without excuse to know of your existence.  God, You see all.  Keep me always looking up to you, because if I am too busy focusing on the woes of life, I am going to miss something that You're trying to teach me about Yourself.