Chapter 30: In Which I do a little foot stomping and fist shaking

I am angry.  I am sad.  I am confused.  I feel hopeless, used, empty.  crushed.  Let it be known, this will not be a happy post.  But also know, I will not feel as sad when I finish this as you might think I am.  Writing makes me feel better.  It is cathartic.  I need to organize my thoughts.  My head is spinning in a million different ways and I just need to find my focus again.  I have a pretty good idea of where that focus will be in the end.  But first- I need to hack some proverbial jungle leaves with a machete and then I'll feel better about where I end up.

On Wednesday our caseworker came over for her monthly check-in.  This time she came with her supervisor- something new and different.  Maybe, I thought, something positive is happening.  As always, I air my grievances about how visits with Brenda are going.  I tell her how I think she would make an amazing grandmother-type figure in his life, I truly don't think she's capable of keeping up with a toddler.  The supervisor offers some tangible advice about what her plan of action is: to make sure that the doctor will be honest with his recommendation on her medical form she still needs to get, or she will try to intervene.  Awesome.  Someone on my side finally.  The caseworker tells the supervisor how Brenda has gotten her house approved, but nothing else on her certification-to-do-list.  No classes, fingerprints, medical form, etc.  The supervisor asks why not?  We both shrug our shoulders.

The supervisor looks at me, "Well- as you know, we always consider family first."

"Well, here's the thing," the caseworker chimes in..."The grandfather has said that if the aunt won't get him, that he will adopt him."

WHAT?!?!

"Why didn't they just get him when he was born then?"  the supervisor asks.

"Two babies was too much for them to handle with them both working." she says. "But next year, the grandmother is retiring."

WHAT!?!?

I am Alice falling down the rabbit hole.  I always knew that Brenda was "Plan A."  But I never never NEVER imagined I was "PLAN C."  There was hope when I was Plan B. One thing fell through and Josiah was a part of OUR forever family.  Why did no one tell us this until now?

I feel lied to and deceived.  What do I look like?  Someone who will "babysit" your grandchild for you until you decided that it is convenient for you to take him back?!?!

Of course my mind races back to the bonding evaluation.  What if he is too bonded to us?  Then my imagination takes me to the court room where the judge says, "I am ruling in favor of the foster parents instead of the child's biological grandparents who already have his biological brother."  That sounds ridiculous.  I think about our foster child Nino who was 18 months when we got him, who maybe cried for a day before he was absolutely fine with us and didn't even ask for his mom.  I think about my nephew Jesse who stayed with his foster mom until he was two and a half and now doesn't even remember her name or recognize pictures of her.

I can't imagine I will be anything in Josiah's future, at best a distant foggy memory of feeling safe and happy and loved.  Yes, of course they have told us we will still have contact.  But do I even want contact with him, seeing how happy he is without me?  Or worse, seeing how unhappy he is living in a home that isn't mine?

I should be happy he's loved by so many people.  I should be grateful that the problem is that too many people want him.  I should be happy he might live with his "real" brother.  But what about Molly?  He's more of a brother to her than to his biological brother.  What have I done to my poor daughter?  It wasn't her choice to lose her brother.  I did this to her.

I am planning my lengthy plea to Josiah's family, where I'm on my knees sobbing that they don't take my son away from me.

But he's not my son.  He never was.  At least not by name, anyway.  I have no claim over him whatsoever.  I just don't understand why God would put him in my life and make me think I had an actual chance to keep him.  This was a life I chose for myself though.  I knew there was a chance of this happening.  And knowing what I do now, I still would have chosen to take him into our home in a heartbeat, no questions asked.  I love that boy.  And I love being his mama.  And I love what he has made me family because he's in it.

Lately I've been listening to my Bible on CD while I feed the babies breakfast.  When I heard the latest news, I popped in I Samuel.  I want to be Hannah.  I want to be okay placing my baby's future in God's hands.  I can clearly remember praying the prayer she prayed.  "God, if you give me a son, I will give him to You."  I wonder if Hannah ever said to God, "Okay, I know that's what I prayed, but I only said that so You'd give me what I wanted.  Do I HAVE to give him to You?  I really really want to keep him for myself- to watch him grow.  I will do all the right things, raise him the right way, teach him about You.  Are you SURE Your plan is to leave him in the temple with a priest I don't even know?"

I don't know if she prayed that or not, but if she did, I think God would take her back to the first time she met Eli when he accused of of being a crazy drunk lunatic.  He would remind her of her first prayer and tell her that He was going to glorify Himself through her sacrifice.

God took me back to the time we had him dedicated at our church last July- almost a year ago now.  I remember Justin telling the congregation through broken sobs of how we would be losing our son any week now.  I remember praying for Josiah's future and telling God that we trusted Him with it.  I didn't imagine it.  I said it, I prayed it, and in that moment, I really meant it.  But now, when I think this story isn't going to end with God blessing us with our son permanently, can I renegotiate?  Please?

My heart is breaking at the anticipation of loss.  I can feel the small hairline fractures creeping in.

What's better?  To live my life there is hope of it being how I want it to be?  Or to live realistically, bracing myself for pain?  If I pray that he stays and he doesn't, am I going to be angry at this God I put all my trust in?  If I guard my heart, and realistically look down the corridor of my future and not see Josiah there, am I going to start building walls, and force people out of my life because they remind me of him?

I think I need to go back and read some old posts.  I need to pick up some of those old stones I started stacking long ago, feel their weight, remembering the joy I had when I placed them at the feet of my King and told Him I trusted what he was doing even though I didn't understand how He would work all things out for good because I loved Him and was called according to His purpose.

It feels like rain.  A change in the natural order of things.

  

Chapter 29: What I See, What I Want, and What I Know

Today in honor of a wonderfully talented, recently-departed artist that I met when I was in college, I brought a book written by him to read while waiting at court today.  I love art books.  Yes, I'm twenty-eight and my favorite kind of book has more pictures than words.  The book is called "How I Paint: Secrets of a Sunday Painter."  There's nothing better than reading a writer's words who can describe the artistic process.

"Every picture I paint is a three-way struggle between what I know, what I see, and what I want.  Little kids draw what they know: the sky is up, so blue appears at the top of the page; Mommy is important, so she's big.  As we get older, we try to copy what we see: the sky goes down behind he land; Mommy looks dark when she stands in front of the window.  Then comes wanting: how to make the sky threatening, Mommy a refuge.  This desire level is wide open.  It can be about wanting to create certain abstract shapes and colors, about expressing views on politics, religion,... or anything, but without it, talent and skill have no place to go.  And the reverse it true: passion is powerless in the hands of the inept."
~Thomas S. Buechner

The Department of Youth and Family Services is not the best at communication, apparently.  Sometimes they'll make appointments and not call or show up.  Sometimes they'll be an hour late picking Josiah up for visitation, and sometimes I'll call an hour after they're supposed to pick him up and they'll say, "Oh, visitation was canceled today.  Did no one call you?"  No- that would be YOUR job, caseworker lady.  And today, surprisingly (although I shouldn't be surprised) our court date was moved and no one bothered to tell us.  Thank you, DYFS, for always being diligent when it comes to my child's future.  You are awesome.

Justin and I showed up early at court today eager to hear some news and got nothing- except for a few fun conversations with a parent of one of Justin's students and a pastor of a church that we know who also fosters.  (It's nice to have someone to talk to other than the crazies.)

We prayed for God's will to be done, and for Him to slow the process down and that's what we got.  Three more glorious weeks of no court and no bad news.  God is good.

I love how art mimics life.  My life is the constant battle between what I see, what I want, and what I know.

This is what I see:
I see God answering prayer and stretching out this process longer than it should be taking.
I see God bless us with a daughter and a son.
I see God calling us into a deeper and deeper faith in Him.

This is what I want:
I want God to answer my ultimate request: to have my family be what it always is now.
I want Molly's brother to be Josiah.
I want Josiah's daddy to be Justin.
I want my faith to grow in the midst of uncertainty.

This is what I know:
I know that God not answering all of my prayers in the past has lead to more blessings than I could have imagined.
I know that God's plan is perfect.
I know that I am called to a life where I can't see the end.  And for that, I'm glad.  If God revealed everything to me all at once, I am quite certain that I wouldn't want to get out of bed in the morning.

I am thankful for people who don't do their jobs and communicate like they should.  Being in a place of uncertainty that calls me to rely on God always sharpens my focus on what I see and what I want and what I know to be true.

In the words of Buechner, "Talent and skill have no place to go [without desire].  And the reverse is true: passion is powerless in the hands of the inept."  I know that God is calling me to a life that is balanced between the passion that He's put in my heart and the lessons He is forming in my head. 

Court...again

Remember how last month we went to court and it was postponed until June 21st?  Well- here it is.  Court again.  Ugh.

I've waited to post to ask for prayer mostly because I didn't want to think about it.  But here it is, along with that familiar pit in my stomach.  We usually have no idea about what court is going to be about.  Here's what I do know:  I know that the state is trying to take parental rights from Josiah's parents for his brother, David.  I know that Brenda will be coming and testifying if the judge asks her to.  I know that we will testify if the judge asks us to, although that has never happened.  I know that there's a bonding evaluation planned for August 4th, so I'm thinking that the parents' lawyer is going to say nothing should happen until then.  Other than that, as usual, we're in the dark.

Practically, here's what you can pray for:

-Ultimately, I would love to see Josiah's family see what a great place he's in and WANT him to stay with us.
- Pray that if we are called to testify, that we will make a good impression on the judge.
- Pray that the judge would want to expedite the process of taking parental rights away and give Josiah to us :o)
- Pray that God would slow the process down for Brenda to get certified (I know, mean, but this is what we have been praying for, and so far, He has.)  
- Pray that everyone shows up, and something is actually moving forward.

I can't thank you enough for all of your prayers and kind thoughts.  I'll be sure to post tomorrow on anything that's happening.

I love that boy.  (and that girl...and their daddy.)  :o)  

Six Years! *warning*... full of cheese :o)

I dated Justin for seven and a half years, and then we got married.  I hate that I can say that in one breath and it doesn't even come close to grasp the enormous weight of miserable agony that it caused me to not be married to my best friend until after I graduated college. (Me? Impatient?  Maybe just a tad.) There have been so many seasons in my life Justin has stood by my side.

He met me when I wore one of two colors everyday: navy blue or maroon.  Knee socks, sweater vest, collar at attention.  We had arguments about who loved each other more before we hung up the phone every night.  (We also argued about who would hang up the phone first.)  He called me "cutie pie."

He loved me from a few hundred miles away, my sweatshirts and jeans and toes of my shoes splattered in paint.  He called me his long distance girlfriend.

He asked me an important question and gave me a diamond to wear on my hand.  He finally...FINALLY called me his fiance.

He adored me when I walked down the aisle in the most beautiful white wedding gown I have ever seen.  He told me he would be with me all the days of his life.  I finally got to tell him "goodnight" and "good morning" all in the same day.  He called me his wife.

He helped me do my best as he worked by my side.  I wore skirts to the knee and artsy necklaces.   He called me his colleague and co-laborer in Christ.

He cried with me when our dreams were broken.  He let me wear his oversized sweatshirts with my tears wiped on the cuffs of the sleeves and tissues in the pockets.  He called me a mother even though my arms were empty.

He helped me choose my outfit the day we went to pick up our foster son from the hospital.  A brown shirt and blue jeans.  He told me I looked like a mom even when I didn't feel like one.    

He labored in prayer next to me as I wore a hospital gown.  He held our daughter and said she was beautiful because she looked like me.  He proudly called me the mother of his daughter.

He comes home to me everyday, my clothes covered in baby drool and rice cereal, my hair pulled back in a pony tail, wearing the same pair of jeans I wore the day before.  He tells me my job is harder than his and that he doesn't care how the house looks.  He cooks dinner and does the dishes because he knows I've had a hard day.  He calls me an amazing mother to Molly and Josiah.  He always tells me how much they love me.

There are precious moments when I feel like I look my worst on days when the kids never nap at the same time and the house is a disheveled wreck, and Justin looks at me like I'm back in my plaid skirt and he can't wait to hold my hand.  Or he hugs me like he hasn't seen me in weeks just like when I wore my art-major apron.  Sometimes he still looks at me in awe just like he did when I walked towards him with flowers in my hands.

I am honored to be loved by such an amazing man who has stood by my side for so many seasons of my life.  Today marks six years since he promised me that there would be many more seasons together and many many more clothes to wear.  :o)  Happy Anniversary, Justin!  I praise God for the blessing that you are to me and our children.  I love you so much!    

Chapter 28: A Visit to Dr. Helpful

Josiah is still a foster child, which means he is on insurance covered by the state- Medicaid.  There are not a lot of doctors that take that insurance in our area due to its "that's all the state is paying for....suck it up" mentality.  Fortunately there is an office that is less than ten minutes away from where we live.  UNfortunately, it is not a pediatrician, just a general practitioner that covers everything from fevers to foot fungus.

Let me just paint a picture for you what the waiting room of the office looks like.  I don't mean to sound discriminatory or elitist or bigoted, but do you know how when you go to the DMV you say to yourself, "Where do these people COME from?  They must only exist here."  Not true- apparently when they're not at the DMV, they're at a government-subsidized healthcare facility- or at family court.  You know what I'm talking about- the woman with one eyebrow and a hairy mole growing out of her lip, the family with 5 children that all seem to be under the age of 3, the guy with the one arm scratching places he shouldn't in public with his claw.  Granted, there are "normal" people there also, but let me just say its a cultural experience, and one that keeps me entertained while I wait for a ridiculous amount of time- even after scheduling my appointment months in advance.  

After an hour and a half, we are finally taken to a examination room.  The doctor comes in after another half an hour, sits down across the room and starts shuffling through paperwork.  He is large and sweaty and bald, and his rotund bottom tests the durability of the small swivel-stool he perches on.  In between scribbling notes on Josiah's chart, clearing his throat about a dozen times, and nodding his head as he writes, he's pushing up his glasses that keep sliding down his nose.  Josiah has had it by then and so have I.  He's walking around the room, a book in each hand, banging the walls and anything else that he thinks will make a fun noise.  I finally decide I should wrangle him once again, so I walk across the room, pick up my 26.6 pound little moose, and sit him on my lap.  The doctor looks up at us for the first time since he came in the room five minutes ago.

He clears his throat again, "So....is he walking yet?"

Seriously?


After answering more politely than I should have, I blurted out a question I had since he wasn't going to be asking if I had any himself.  "So...I'm concerned about how much juice he drinks.  He won't drink just plain water, and I know that juice has a lot of sugar in it.  How much juice should he have in day?"

He looks up, annoyed, like I just distracted him from his "job."  "Ummmmm....no more than a few ounces at a time."

I scrunch my nose and raise an eyebrow.  Ummm...was that an answer?  I quickly nod and smile when I realize I'm making a face.


Finally, I just ask the one question I know he will have an answer to.  I know he has a chart right in front of him.  "What percentile is he for his weight and height?  I'm concerned he's too big.  The boy loves to eat."


He shuffles shuffles shuffles, finds the chart, and pretends to do a little mathematical calculation. "Ummmmm....  he's fine."

Ok...was THAT an answer?  Did I miss it? Like 30th percentile fine or 90th percentile fine?  I tell myself I'll just find a chart online when I get home.


Poor Josiah gets a few shots, and after kissing a few tears away, we bolt out the door.  They tell me to make another appointment for him in three months.  I get that sad feeling I always do when leaving the office thinking, "I wonder if I'll still have him when the time comes for his next appointment."

Oh, government healthcare, I loathe thee.

Psalm Twenty-Seven: Fear and Light

"The Lord is my light and my salvation- whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life- of whom shall I be afraid?  
When evil men advance against me to devour my flesh, 
when my enemies and my foes attack me, they will stumble and fall, 
Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear, 
though war break out against me, 
even then will I be confident." v. 1-3


...Just go and break out your Bible and read the entire chapter.  It is 14 verses of awesomeness.  You will need a highlighter or a pen to underline.  You might just want to underline all of it.  It will be well worth your while- I promise.

There have been two times in my life where I can remember being truly afraid.  (OK- 3 if you count the time I made a wrong turn coming home from Connecticut and drove through NEW YORK CITY. I can't talk about that one yet.  When I do, I relive it, and my palms get all clammy.)  Consequently, during both of those scary times I had one of my dear friends beside me.

This is Carissa. Carissa was the first person I met at college.  We were both art majors and clicked instantly.  That's not a difficult thing for Carissa to do with most people.  I know it's cliché to say, but she's one of those people who truly lights up a room when she walks into it.  She can have a conversation with anyone- and often does- on trains, subways, people working a cash register, etc.,  and more often than not she leaves a conversation having put a smile on the other person's face (that is, if she's not telling that person what an idiot they are, which she also can do with ease and gusto.)
She is the bravest and most independent person I know.  She lives and works in New York City and knows all of the subway trains to get from place to place.  That, to me, is impressive.  It figures that when I look back on the two most fearful times on my life, God would put the bravest person I know next to me.  Funny.

---Number One---
My sophomore year, a few college friends and I went for a little weekend jaunt to Carissa's hometown of Canandaigua, NY, about an hour and a half away from school.  We had fun together and laughed a lot, as we always did.  We made a trip to Wegman's (OH, I MISS YOU, WEGMAN'S) and saw all the places where Carissa went to school and church.  I drove.  I will be the first to tell you that when given the choice to either be the driver or the passenger, I will pick passenger every time.  I don't like driving, nonetheless driving in the arctic tundra that is Western New York.  On our way back to school from our adventure, what started out as a beautiful dusting of swirling, dancing snow on the highway quickly turned into a completely disastrous blustery white-out.  I could barely make out a foot of pavement in front of the car.  We knew that it was too late to turn back; it was only going to get worse throughout the day.  So we trudged along at a snail's pace.  Every so often we could make out a car or two that had skid across the road and was tail-end up in a ditch.  I truly feared for my life.  I was clutching the steering wheel white-knuckled.  Carissa sat in the passenger seat next to me and kept reassuring me that I was doing a great job and we would get back safely.

I kept imagining all the things I wouldn't get to do if I died in a snow storm.  No more painting.  No wedding.  No babies.  It's amazing how fear can disable right-thinking.  It paralyzes me.       

We all  prayed together, and the verse that kept repeating itself over and over in my mind was Psalm 27.  

"The Lord is my light and my salvation- whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the stronghold of my life- of whom shall I be afraid?"

  

There's nothing like wisdom from Scripture that can bring light into the darkest parts of my mind.  It reveals the true nature of my faith in God and puts in perspective how much I should be trusting Him with my future.  

We did end up making it back to school safely, by the way.

---Number Two---
Carissa and I went to Italy for three weeks along with our art department.  We visited the three art meccas- Venice, Rome, and Florence.  There were about thirty of us altogether in the group, including our four professors.  While we were in Florence, we stayed in a one-star hotel- basically a hostel with five or so beds in a room and bathrooms for everyone to share in the hallway.  It was only our group that was staying on the third floor, so no one bothered to lock their rooms.  It was a hassle.  If anyone woke up during the night to use the bathroom, someone would have to stay awake to unlock and re-lock the door with a key.  I am a super light sleeper.  It would have made for a very long night.
On the second morning in Florence, I awoke to panic-striken people running up and down the hallway.  "Check your wallets!  Check your money!" I kept hearing.

I rubbed my eyes, and looked over at my nightstand that Carissa and I shared, on which I carefully placed my money belt on the night before. The money belt had been hap-hazardly strewn on the floor, my passport and credit card spilled out.  Someone had broken into our room, used sleeping gas to make sure we remained asleep, and taken all of our cash.  Four rooms were broken into that night, with a total of $1200 stolen.

 It was hard to fall asleep the next night.  I was afraid.  I imagined what may have happened if I had woken up and the robber was inches away from me.  What if they came back?  We locked our door the next night and every night after that.  My moneybelt was safely tucked inside my pillow case.  I knew the chances of it happening again two nights a row were slim.  But still, I was truly fearful.

Again, God brought this same scripture to mind.

"The Lord is my light and my salvation- whom shall I fear?

The Lord is the stronghold of my life- of whom shall I be afraid?  

When evil men advance against me to devour my flesh, 

when my enemies and my foes attack me, they will stumble and fall, 

Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear, 

though war break out against me, 

even then will I be confident."

I remember sitting in a train next to Carissa saying this verse out loud to each other, memorizing it, soaking in all the truth, bathing the dark corners of our minds with light from God's word.  

It was so much easier to sleep after that.

When I think of those two instances, they both have something in common.  My imagination.  My imagination can take me anywhere, and when I let my mind taste and then bite and then devour deception and lies, I convince myself that my God is too small to handle my circumstances.  Fear is the result.  Fear takes my mind to the "could-be's" and "what-if's" and I start to practice feeling what I would feel in those circumstances.  Maybe it's a way of guarding my heart- so if those things do happen, those feelings won't be unfamiliar in that moment.  I'll be prepared.  

But one thing is wrong with that.  In my imagining those circumstances, God is absent.  His presence is not there.  It is complete darkness.  I fail to recognize that God will be beside me in my moment of need- guiding, reassuring, strengthening, surrounding me with His children (people like Carissa) to be a voice of reason and light and life and truth from God's Word.      

Fear is a waste of my imagination.    

I'm not talking about using common sense and imagining the worst and being prepared.  I'm talking about fear that cripples my faith into thinking I am more alone than I really am.

What, then, am I encouraged to think about?  This is David's solution: Before an army overtakes him and war is all around him, he makes the commitment to be confident in his God.

"One thing I ask of the Lord, this is what I seek; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek him in his temple.  For in the day of trouble he will keep me safe in his dwelling; he will hide me in the shelter of his tabernacle and set me high upon a rock." v. 4-5


I am so thankful for the truth of these verses.  On days when I let my mind wander to dark places filled with fear for myself and for my family, I can cling to this truth and know that God will not abandon me in the dark.  He is my light and my salvation.  Truth dispels darkness.  

Psalm Twenty-Six: Heart and Mind and Feet

"Vindicate me, O LORD, for I have lead a blameless life.  

I have trusted in the LORD without wavering.  

Test me and try me, 

examine my heart and my mind; 

for your love is ever before me, 

and I walk continually in your truth." v. 1-3

Dear God,
It is one thing to lead a blameless life- to walk worthy of your calling and do all of the external actions that show that I love you.  However, the psalmist doesn't ask You to test his outward appearance.  He asks You to test his heart (emotions) and his mind (his thoughts.)  It is this inward struggle that is so much more difficult than simply "doing" what is right.  But the psalm offers the solution to both of these things,  1- God can guide our hearts into feeling the right way when we are focused on how He loves us.  2- We will think rightly when we are continually in His truth daily.

The illustration (forgive me- I was in a pregnant-tired and newborn-baby-in-the-house-tired when I drew this.  I'm warning you now...the quality is going to go down for the next few.)  shows a man focused on the sacrifice of Christ.  His heart and mind have aligned his directional charge.  (If I drew this again, the feet would have been pointed the same way, like he's walking.  He looks a little tired and dizzy and confused here- like I was at the time.) ... but you get the point- hopefully.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately.  Emotions.  Why is it so difficult to put what I know to be true  into practice?  Why do I let the way I feel about a situation dictate my attitude? I always thought as long as I'm doing what I know God wants me to do, I'm covered.  He's happy.  Granted, I may not always have the best attitude while I'm doing it, but atleast I'm doing it, right?

If you've been reading for a while, you know I'm speaking about visitation.  Brenda.  She is my Nineveh.  I go through the actions because I know God wants me to.  I know that anthing I do or don't do isn't going to ultimately change who gets to be the parents in Josiah's forever home.  I know that God is in control of his life.  I know that this is the path God wants me on despite my constant whining.  So why, every week, do I still feel swallowed up and spit out? I feel absolutely awful the day before, the day of, and the day after she comes to my house to play with Josiah.  I am drained of all energy.  Stripped of all sanity.  Robbed of joy.  Laden with guilt that I should be happy that his great-aunt loves him so much.    

I know why.  It's because my head and my heart are telling my feet to go in different directions.  And I'm dizzy.

 Scripture tells me that God can change the way I think.

Romans 12:2
Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.


I always thought that our intellectual selves belong to God. I, then, made the assumption, that my if my mind belongs to God, emotions belong to me.  Emotions are the human reaction of the spiritual experience of God changing the way that I think.  That's one thing I love about Psalms.  The psalmist's emotions are real.  He tells God what he thinks about the world around him.  But he is also quick to tell God the truth about Himself, and then (this is really cool) knowing the truth not only changes the way he thinks....it changes the way he feels.  

The God I serve is not just Lord over my mind; He can be Lord over my heart too.  And when I let Him transform my thinking to line up with Scripture, I can then truly yield all of me- emotions included- to His good, pleasing, and perfect will.     

Ready, head?  check.  Ready, heart? check. Ok, feet...NOW you can start moving forward.  And if you forget your motivation, just look at the cross, and let Jesus' love for you inspire you to love others the way He does.    


"Vindicate me, O LORD, for I have lead a blameless life.  I have trusted in the LORD without wavering.  Test me and try me, examine my heart and my mind; for your love is ever before me, and I walk continually in your truth." 

And the winner is....

GINA!  You're the winner!  


I'll get working on your very own original Psalm Ten if you're sure that's the one you want.  All I need is your address and it will be on its way ASAP.  


Thank you to all who entered.  :o)  

Giveaway Extension

Ok people...

I know that a lot more people read my blog than have commented to win an illustration and I would really like to give you the chance to win!  :o)  That's right---YOU!  It just takes a second.


I've decided to extend the date to give a few more people a chance, and given the holiday weekend and the possibility that many of you may be away from your computer, I want to give you some extra time.  So I'll pick an entry at random at 9:00pm Tuesday, June 1st.    


I've also received some comments saying that they don't know how to enter because they don't have a "username" and password.  NO WORRIES!  Shoot me an email at meganbenson81 at gmail dot com.  (I spell it out on the blog to avoid market scamming, but you'll do the email the regular way.)


Thank you again for your encouragement and prayers.  I just want to return the favor in a small way to one lucky reader :o)

A reason to celebrate and a GIVEAWAY!!!!

Twenty five.

I know that getting 1/6th of the way through the book of Psalms doesn't seem like a huge accomplishment, but I didn't want to wait until I did 25 more to celebrate.  I wanted to start this blog as a way to document my devotions- honestly just for a few people who I had shared that I was doing this with.  I know that I was more likely to be faithful in doing devotions if I felt I was accountable to someone- so I wanted to blog about the lessons I was learning.... and really just force my sisters to read them :o)  I never imagined it would turn into something so introspective and personal and honest.  I'm so glad I'm able to look back at God's faithfulness.  I am humbled and honored and encouraged when I hear and read that people are praying for my family and are strengthened in their own faith through this blog.

So as a way to celebrate and to thank you, reader, I want to give away an illustration.  5 x 7", colored with vibrant Prismacolors, framed and matted.  

Here's the deal:

All you have to do is leave a comment and in that comment tell me your favorite illustration. I hope that it depicts a verse that is encouraging to you.  I hope that when you see it, it will remind you of a characteristic of God that you need to claim as truth and apply to your life.

Here is a list of all of the illustrations thus far:  Psalms 1-25.  

I know that some of the illustrations are personal, so if there is anything you would like me to change in it to apply more to you, I can do that!

On Sunday May 30th, I'll do a little random number generator action and announce the winner!

Thank you for reading.  And thank you more for praying.  :o)

Happy commenting.

Psalm Twenty-Five: Show, Teach, and Guide

"Show me your ways, O LORD, teach me your paths, guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long."  v. 4-5


"The LORD confides in those who fear him; he makes his covenant known to them.  My eyes are ever on the LORD, for only he will release my feet from the snare."  v. 14-15

God,
I pray that the path and choices I will make will always be guided first by your wisdom.  Help me to never lose hope.  I thank you that you promise to reveal yourself to me if I am seeking you.  Please keep me focused on the things I should be- and far from the thoughts that will entangle me as I walk with you.

This illustration was supposed to show a raised path with slippery slopes and snares below.  One wrong step and I'd be down in the pit again.  That's how I felt- I was in my second trimester with Molly, but I wouldn't let myself believe that she existed.  It hurt too much to hope.  But I did so desperately want to know God more, and I felt God telling me that that was what I needed to be focused on- not looking to either side and wondering if one wrong step was going to cause the demise of yet another unfulfilled dream.  But as the psalmist states, his hope did not lay in circumstances, he hoped in the Lord.  Good reminder.

That still is a lesson I need to apply to my life today.  I can't tell you the countless hours I've spent smelling Josiah's hair with his head tucked under my chin just trying to soak in the smell.  Or kissing his chubby cheeks wondering if he knows how much I love him, hoping he'll remember the sound of my voice or how safe he felt when I laid him in his favorite corner of the crib.  I can sob on command when I think about a caseworker pulling away from the house with Josiah strapped to the car seat crying uncontrollably and wondering what's happening.  

But none of this is about him.  None of this is about me.  It's not about building my family, or even being a "good person," or making sure Molly learns to be charitable.  When it comes down to it- here's the bare bones:

I want to look back and know God more because of the path He took me through.

It's about God showing- and me acknowledging I see His plan.
It's about God teaching- and me actually learning and applying those lessons.
It's about God guiding- and me following Him.
It's about acknowledging God as Savior- and me putting my hope and trust in Him.

God is going to confide His plan to me if I fear Him.  He's going to keep my feet walking the right path if I keep my eyes on Him.  I don't need to think about the snares if I'm acknowledging, learning, applying, following, and hoping.  Oh, verbs.  Easy to say.  Hard to do.

SUMMER ART ENRICHMENT

If you know any 2nd-8th graders who would like to have a little art fun this summer, here are a few classes I'm offering.  Feel free to pass this info along to anyone who may be interested.  I can also email you a brochure if you'd like.  Thank you, readers!  

CREATION CELEBRATION!  

Our amazing Creator spoke our world into existence in six days.  This summer will be painting, sculpting, drawing, and crafting to explore what God made on each day of the Creation Story. 

1.Light and Darkness

Wednesday, June 30th

Let there be light!  We will be making two types of candles in this session.  We will also be sculpting two kinds of candle holders out of clay.  

2. Sky and Sea

Wednesday, July 7th

Do you love to paint?  Do you want to learn how to make your paintings look more real? We will be exploring watercolor resist techniques and applying rules of perspective to paint a beautiful sea scape.    

3. Plants

Wednesday, July 14th

We will be using plants as our inspiration to make a batik wall hanging.  Learn how to make natural dye from plants.  We will also be learning to tie-dye, so please bring a white T-shirt to this session.      

 4. Sun, Moon, & Stars 

Wednesday, July 21st

We will be making our own scratch boards to make a colorful collage of the elements of the forth day of creation.  This abstract technique combines painting and drawing to create a colorful masterpiece you will treasure.        

5. Birds & Fish

Wednesday, July 28th

What exciting creatures lurk and soar above and below the sea?  We will be constructing a diorama that will show the exciting life above and below sea level.  Techniques in sculpting creatures will be taught using Model Magic.  Please bring an empty shoe box to this session.    

 6.  Animals

Wednesday, August 4th 

Bring in your favorite photograph of a pet or picture of your favorite animal.  We will be learning to draw animals using a secret techniques artists have used for centuries to make their drawings look perfectly proportioned and life-like.  

7.  People

Wednesday, August 11th 

Drawing people can be the most difficult and challenging of all subject matter.  We will be discussing how to draw faces and make them look real.  

8.  Creation Celebration!  

Wednesday, August 25th 

We will be having an art party to celebrate all we have made this summer!  The day will be a “free day” to use any of the art supplies and techniques we used this summer to create something of your choosing.   This is a great day to complete any unfinished work.  We will also be making some edible art to enjoy together.    

Each session will be held at Swan Bay Folk Art Center in Port Republic from 10:00 to 12:00.  Classes are open to students entering into grades second through eighth.  The cost of each session is $25 which includes all supplies.  Sign up for seven sessions, and the eighth is free.

Class size is limited.  Please contact Megan Benson to Register.

meganbenson81 at gmail dot com

300 Sooy’s Landing Rd. 

Port Republic, NJ 08241 

*Private art lessons available upon request for $15/hour for each student.* 

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.