Say Hi to Pookie

We've gone over a year without a dog.
In many ways, it's been easy. In other ways, it's been lonely.
Our middle children have especially missed having a canine companion.
There were certain things we knew we need to find "Mr. or Mrs. Right Canine" for our family.
In Pookie, formerly known as Pooper, we have found just the dog for our family, and we hope, she has found in us just the right family for her.
She is a five year old brindle boxer mix. Loves children, fully housebroke, obedient, easy to clean, spayed, vaccinated, and an extra blessing - she was free!
So, next time you're in the neighborhood, stop by and meet the newest member of the family. I can almost guarantee you'll even get a kiss if you want one.

Do You Know How GOOD GOD is to us?

I JUST got done making a comment on my previous post.
When I was done, I continued making desparate phone calls to try and find a cheaper way to do what needs to be done to finalize Micah's adoption.
Inbetween phone calls, my phone rang.
It was our lawyer.
He told me, "I have good news for you!"
"I think I've found a way to get this done WITHOUT me charging you a ton of money!" He told us to sit tight, and he'll get back with the fine-tuned details within the next 24 hours.
Do you hear me breathing better? Do you see my tears running down my face?
Thank you friends for praying. Thank you God for listening AND for answering those prayers!

Hurdles. Back in the day when I was young, limber, and thin, I competed in hurdles. It was never my best event in junior high track, but I managed to get over them and was never last.

Today finds me facing down another set of hurdles. The type not made of aluminum and neatly set up in spaced out rows on a track field. Even with this aging body, creaking knees, and ample hips, that type of hurdle would appear easier to overcome than what I am currently looking at.

Last week we were finally able to locate an attorney to help us finalize our youngest son's adoption. We knew our case was a bit out of the ordinary as we had made two moves in the short time Micah has been home with us. We had a figure in our mind of what the costs might be to make our son legally ours forever. We were wrong.

Rewind two and a half years ago and we were finalizing Esther's adoption. The attorney fees and filing costs totaled about $750. Fast forward to today, and were looking at more than five times that amount. Hurdles of the monetary kind.

Yes, of course, finalizing our son's adoption is worth more than any financial figure. We would and will do anything within our power for our precious son. It's just one of those times, where this is out of our scope of power and ability, and so we're pleading with God for a divine intervention. We don't know how He is going to do it, but we know He will.

And while we wait, we liquidate what extra bits we have around the house. Unused home school material, book collections, and soon our old but faithful Honda. Will it be enough to clear the hurdle before us? No, but it's a start. And with all great events, a good start makes the difference.

If you are a praying friend who reads this, would you please pray for us as we participate in this event? Pray that God would give us the strength, stamina, and discernment to do what we need to do to pass this hurdle. Micah already has our hearts and hands, now he just needs our name.

It's true

the years do go by quickly. And the tears come quickly as well. Not sobbing, "I can't believe you're leaving me", tears. Just ones of thankfulness for nearly eighteen years under the same roof, and of pride in how my once wee son has grown into such a strong-in-spirit young man.

The photo books are complete, the graduation announcements have been sent, the simple cake reception has been planned. Just a few more weeks and we will be toasting our oldest son with chilled mugs of root beer as he celebrates his high school graduation.

A few more moments together after that and he will soon be on his way to college. He won't need me to hold his hand, wash his clothes, make his meals, or discuss life in the late hours of the evening. That part of my mommy hood chapter is complete (until he comes home on break of course).

Watching my firstborn walking into adulthood reminds me of teaching him how to ride his bike. That first venture without Mom's hands on the bike nor on the boy and watching, praying, hoping he wouldn't crash is very similar to what I'm feeling seventeen years later.

Ride well Josiah. But know, that when you hit those bumps in the road, your Mom is still here, not to steer or push, but to watch you get up and try again.

Good Enough

I'm so thankful that's what He thinks of me. What He says of me. What He promises me.
Otherwise, the following would be too much. Exhausting. Overwhelming.
I'm a wife - not good enough - not in my husband's words, but in mine. I don't give the time, creativity, support that I long to give. Each day starts with the promise that today will be the day I get it right, and ends too soon with me falling asleep before even saying good night to my beloved.
I'm a mom - not good enough - sometimes in my kids' words, always in mine. Not good enough at meeting the needs of six people at different stages of growth and development. Some need massive amounts of cuddles, others need massive amounts of food. All need "mom" time throughout the day and for each that "mom" time has a different definition and time. Sometimes the individual time I long to give each of them is swallowed up my the mundane yet necessary task of keeping medical/dental/activity appointments made and managed.
I'm a teacher - not good enough - to five of my six children. My youngest is learning his English phonics, letter and number formations. My oldest is finishing up his heavy course load as he prepares for college in the Fall. Transcripts, diplomas, record keeping, ordering materials for next year. Is it summer yet???
I'm a sister - not good enough - who lives far way from her beloved siblings and sweet nieces and nephews. You should see the stack of cute "keeping in touch" cards I have meant to send to keep those precious relationships precious.
I'm a friend - not good enough - said by both myself and others. Having lived in umpteen different locations, I've been blessed with many dear friends. They are all thought, loved, and prayed for amidst the chaos in my mind, but communicating those thoughts has not been good enough. As for my family members, I have loads of sweet cards to send, some even with partial addresses on them, that somehow have never made it to the post office.
I am a homemaker with a beautiful house. It's home to eight active people who consume huge quantities of food and wear lots of clothes. As a result my home hosts piles and piles of laundry, meals always in some stage of preparation, and the usual "stuff". I clean, I wash, I even iron once in awhile. Yet, it's not good enough. It always appears that a small tornado has travelled throughout our home.
I'm also a pastor's wife - not good enough - just ask. :) I'd much rather wear yoga pants and t-shirts than skirts and pearls. I laugh too often and snort too loud. I love people more than they know - but am not good enough and showing it.
I try to give what I can, to be what I can be, but I go to bed at night fully aware that what I've done, and who I am, isn't good enough.
That's when I hear His whisper. That's when I feel his presence. Telling me that yes, I am enough. I'm not good enough if my house is spotless, my children are all happy, my husband is content, or my friends are okay with me. I'm good enough simply because He says I am. Being His Child is good enough for me.

Pass the Clippers Please

Our beautiful, big, old house came with a beautiful, big, old yard. The house sits grandly on two and a half lots. This large yard hosts what appears to be a ton of leaves from the past four years, overgrown and under loved lilac bushes, and lots of trees in need of a good trim. So, we went to work, armed with the biggest rakes and clippers known to man.
I have to say it pains me to cut away the old branches, even in their ugliness and decay. It's a hard task to do as I know they once were alive, full of beauty and purpose. Yet, they have to go to make room for new growth and life.
As I hacked, cleared, and piled my ever growing collection of tree stuff, I was reminded of how God has loved me enough to prune things in my life. Things that although once were good, and even necessary, no longer served the purpose He had in mind for me today. To make me ready for the next season in my life, He has had to take away what was, to make room for what is and what is yet to be. Sometimes I wince as He cuts back what is obviously not serving any good for me, just because it has become familiar. However, once it is gone, I begin to see the developing of fresh, new, life building things coming forth where once the old had taken root.
I'm excited to see my yard bring forth new life. I'm even more excited to see what new things He has in store for me as He continues to remove the old and make room for the new.

Sounds Like Home

More so than having sheets on the beds, dishes in the cupboard, or even clothes in the closet, sounds tell me our house is now our home.
Coffee cooking in the morning, sounds of little feet and not so little feet developing new daily routes and routines, and the ever present chorus "Mom - where's my _____?" negate the need for the din of a TV or the buzz of a radio.
Last night more sounds filled our home that raised the decibel level and raised our hopes that yes, this is indeed home. Fifteen teens played Pit, Apples to Apples, and Mad Gab inbetween digesting great quantities of chili dip and peanut butter cookies. (Not together - just on the same plate.) Hearing the neighborhood kids form bonds of friendships with our children by deciphering silly phrases, and trading "stock" on our table was blessed. Holy even. It was the sound of God blessing our lives with new friends, new hopes, and a new vision for what we are to do and be here in this old house, our new home.