Surprise Trip

 

 I am leaving for the Dominican Republic in 11 days.

Surprised? Yes, I am too.

Four days ago, I had no idea I was going on this trip. All I can say is that God has me going for a reason I do not yet know.

I have been to the D.R. before, and it completely won me over. Maybe because it confronted me with the sights and smells and horrors and joys of poverty. I will never forget standing in a Haitian village in pouring down rain, covered by a poncho. The children hardly had any clothes on, and they were waiting for a meal. (It might have been their only warm meal that day, or week. I don't remember.) And they were singing praises to Jesus, soaking wet with rumbling bellies and the biggest smiles on their faces. I can't forget them.

I remember an elder in a remote village, one of the few Christians in a large radius, praising Jesus with his eyes closed. Jesus might have well been standing right there in front of him, so in awe was he of the Savior. His body language was gushing forth adoration along with childlike giddiness and joy.

I remember being completely surprised to be speaking German in the D.R. But one afternoon we stopped to play with some kids, and a German man was there. We spoke, and he bragged about all he was doing for this poor family. Yet he seemed so out of place, and I left that tiny house with a feeling of dread and that something was terribly wrong. A few years later, I learned about human trafficking, and this memory flooded back in full force. And though I cannot say for sure what was going on that day, I do believe that our group happened to drop in on an evil that cannot even be fully described. 

I came back with a different view of money and the world. And I have loved the Dominican ever since. Maybe because I feel a profound sense of gratitude toward this island. Because of my experience there, our Compassion child is from the D.R. Unfortunately, I will not be able to visit her this time around, but that is a dream of mine.

So here I am 11 days away from being there again.

Someone from our church who was planning on going, had to drop out. The trip has been paid for entirely. A different person had priority before me to take advantage of a free ticket to the D.R., but that person couldn't do it. That meant that when I was offered this chance, I had 2 days to find childcare for 6 days. Not only did I have to find childcare, but the person was also going to have to be willing to swap services instead of being paid with money. I went to bed the night before the deadline without having found or heard back from anyone. By 8:30 the next morning, I had found 2 wonderful people to watch the boys while Joey is at work, and I was given $100 to help with costs.

I am sure that life will get crazy in the next week because of needing to get supplies for the trip and possibly some vaccinations.

I don't know what this trip holds, but I am thankful for the opportunity. Because it is such a surprise, my hands and heart can't help but to be open to what God might be up to. If you think about it, would you pray for me and the group with which I am traveling? This is not vacation, but a chance to join God where he is at work on a small island, and a chance to see where God is already at work in this small mother of two who happens to live in Columbia, South Carolina.

Counting to 1000 in a Year

I am taking part in a dare. It is a dare to count 1000 things you are thankful for in one year. I have previously posted some of my list, but am now planning on doing that again every Monday.
Well is is June, the sixth month of the year, and the joy dare is going very well. I found it very fitting that I reached #500 on our anniversary.

The list for today:

528) Humidifiers
529) Will sleepily coming into our room shortly before six this morning, wanting to play with play dough
530) Will going back to bed
531) Will spending almost the entire morning playing with play dough
532) Kisses from Katie
533) Clubhouse Jr. in the mail
534) A book in the mail
535) Joey cleaning the kitchen for me this morning before I even got up
536) Hugs from Max
537) The anticipation of getting to see Jules

Play Dough Recipe

 This is certainly not something unique, but I thought I would post the play dough recipe my mom used when I was little. I have some cleaning I need to do today, and I don't want the boys losing anymore brain cells  to another episode of the 1981 Spiderman cartoon. So thankfully, the ingredients to this recipe are usually on hand.

1 cup of flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons cream of tartar
1 cup of water mixed with 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil
(several drops of food coloring if you want to make different colors)

Mix the dry ingredients in a sauce pan.
Add the wet ingredients and cook over medium heat, stirring constantly, until elastic. (Btw, this is a great arm and shoulder workout!!)
Remove from pan and allow to cool before play.
Store in a tupperware or a zip-lock. 

So there you go. The boys are still playing with the play dough, so maybe I'll get some cleaning done even though I used some time to post this.

Thanks for the recipe, Mom!

(taken in 1983 when the Spiderman cartoon was probably still going strong, and I was old enough to sink my fingers into some homemade play dough)

On Being Vulnerable

Vulnerability is a problem for me. Sometimes I call it being reserved. Sometimes I call it being “quick to listen and slow to speak,” and pat myself on the back for it. Sometimes I call it “Augen zu und durch,” which translated means something to effect of, “close your eyes and get through it."

But what is it really? It is fear. Fear of not being heard. Fear of being looked down upon. Fear of hurting too bad when it comes time to say goodbye to someone you trust.
I would have said up until a few days ago that I can be vulnerable in certain small groups that I go to. But what really happens is this:
We talk. Sometimes I hurt so deep within about something, that I know if I open up, it will all come flooding out of my eyes (and yes, my nose, too!). So I don’t open up.
Other times, I open up and just spew all over the other ladies. Hurt and frustration come pouring out all over them because I have not talked in so long.
In the first case, I am not vulnerable because I am not sharing struggles or joys with them. Silence is my guard, but I miss out on meaningful and even healing conversation. In the second case, I am not really being vulnerable in a way that will help grow a relationship, because all I needed at the time was to get something off of my chest.

I am in a season of life, in which all of my closest friends do not live close to me. The only one that remains in Columbia is moving away. So I am left in Columbia, the city I have lived in for 11 years, and feel like a stranger. I have not cultivated friendships here as well as I could have because I have not put in the effort, and have not wanted to be vulnerable.

So, here I am saying that I will no longer be isolated in my house or in my head. I will take the calculated risk of being vulnerable with people I believe I can trust. In the end, I hope to be a trustworthy friend. A friend who is vulnerable and who gives and receives freely.

I'm Learning...

... to focus less on my personal sacrifices and more on the Savior, the perfect sacrifice.

Why?

Because he knows the tears, the exhaustion, the wanting to be alone, and the deepest form of sacrifice- the giving of his life.

Because I can afford to. When who I am rests in the sacrifice of Christ, I am free to live a life not measured by applause, blog comments or perfection.

Because I am then free to look past myself.

Because I am then free to love deeply and purely.

Happy Father's Day

I'm not sure who had more fun.

The God of Peace

Tonight the boys were hyper and utterly exhausted. There were tears in the tub on multiple occasions that would be shortly followed by laughter. Max hit his back pretty hard on the faucet as he was getting out of the tub, so even after an ice pack, a band-aid (even though he wasn’t bleeding) and some pain reliever, he is still groaning in his bed. I am not quite sure if it is still hurting him, or if he is just milking the injury so he doesn’t have to sleep.

William has been weepy this evening, and he hurt himself as well. After songs, prayers, another run to the potty, and getting water for both, I finally made it out of their room. A few minutes later, Will started crying uncontrollably.
     “What do you need, Will?” I asked.
     “I need you!” was his reply.
So I knelt beside his bed, rubbed his legs and started praying in a whisper over him. For the first time, I then started whispering scripture to him. God’s words washed over him, and soothed his weary little spirit. Is he sleeping yet? No. Actually he is trying to start a conversation with his brother, who is getting very annoyed. But I did see a change in him, a peace that came over him while I spoke God’s love letter to him.

In Philippians 4:8-9, Paul says,

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable- if anything is excellent or praiseworthy- think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me - put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.

Maybe part of my job as a mother is to intentionally direct the thoughts of my children to things that are true, noble, right, etc. What result can I expect? The God of peace will be with me and with my children. Seeing Will calm and relax tonight was seeing God soothe my boy with the lullaby of his love.

He was there.

Evening Sun on a Winter Day

This was taken in December (as the sun was setting), but I decided to post it cause it is just too cute to be stored away on the hard drive.