Just Like Her Father

I came across some old pictures of my nieces and nephew. They were ones when my sister's youngest was five or six. I remember showing them to people and having them proclaim, "She looks so much like you!" That shouldn't be a surprise as we are identical twins. But I remember liking the fact that people could see me in her.

It seems a pretty common thing for new parents, relatives, and friends to look at a baby and say, "She's got your eyes" or "He has his father's chin." As the child gets older, people might say, "She has her mother's stubborn streak" or "His father's sense of humor."

Just recognizing how thrilled I was to have people say she looked like me makes me wonder how thrilled God is when we look like Him.

I'm posting today at the Internet Cafe. Click here to finish reading this post.

Roots and Wings

I don't like relationships to end. But the truth of the matter is that some relationships are meant to end. They are a learning place for someone to jump off from. I understand that, but I am still a bit sad about some news I received yesterday.

I've been a Compassion International sponsor for a number of years now. My first two children were Kayirangwa from Rwanda and Delia from Ecuador. Two years ago this summer, I learned that Delia's parents had opted to pull her from the program. There was no real reason given. It felt like a loss.

Compassion immediately sent me the picture of another little girl in Ecuador to consider sponsoring. Her name was Ambar. Though my heart yearned to know what was going on with Delia, I became Ambar's sponsor and began corresponding with her.

I logged onto my Compassion account to submit my giving for the month over the weekend. I was surprised by a note asking me to contact Compassion about Ambar. I confess that my heart sank a bit as I surmised that Ambar must have left the program. She was no longer listed on my account.

I emailed asking about it and left my work number so they could more easily get in touch with me. I got the email last night and a voice mail today.

I was right. Ambar's parents had decided to take her out of the program. However, it turns out that aside from missing her, there was really no reason to be downhearted about this turn of events. Ambar's family's circumstances have changed for the better. While I don't have the details, apparently they felt that the needs being met were no longer acute and they could care for her. They wanted a child who needed the spot to be able to benefit.

Ambar has continued to excel in school. She has now finished the fourth grade and her parents plan to allow her to continue her education.

And, the email told me that in the last several months, Ambar had become a Christian!

I've heard it said that being a parent is giving children roots and wings. They need both. I think, perhaps, that being a Compassion sponsor is a bit of the same thing. I'm so glad that I've been able to be part of giving Ambar roots and wings. I will continue to pray that God holds her close and brings her safely home to Him in the fullness of time.





I get to write Ambar one last letter. Please pray that I would know the right words.

A Child's Fear

I just got home from BN a bit ago. I thought it was just going to be a typical night. But God stirred up an old longing.

I staffed Kids for most of the night. When Will went on lunch and break, I covered customer service. At one point, a boy about 9 or 10 walked up with tears in his eyes. "I can't find my mom or dad, " he said as he struggled to hold back the tears.

I got their names and paged them to customer service. They were there in an instant. "We were right . . . ." The dad paused mid sentence and took in his son's face. "Come here, Buddy." And then there were hugs.

I was reminded of a story my mom told about when my sister and I were 2 or 3. We had arrived home from a trip to the zoo and had both fallen asleep in the car. My mom carried my sister inside. Before she knew it, our neighbor was at the door with my twin and I. She had plucked us from the car when we awoke screaming and disoriented for our mother.

I don't know how many times I heard this tale. But it struck me tonight that the part that was always missing was where she gathered us in her arms and told us it was all okay. The retellings always felt like being chided for having such silly childhood fears in the backseat of our familiar car in our familiar drive way when she had only been gone for minutes.

It hit me tonight. That the parental reaction tonight was the one I longed for as a child and even sometimes as an adult.

So, I'm rolling it around in my brain. How does God respond in the midst of my fears?

He scoops me up and holds me close. He whispers in my ear. He does not chide. He stands beside me, even leads me even in the valley of the shadow of death. He comforts me. And then, He gives me rest.

40 to 40 (Gratitude 33)

I am grateful for trust. This past week I helped with childcare (teen) for my friends' children. One of their older children and his wife stayed with them for the majority of the week. I helped out with transportation after school and then this weekend.

I am grateful that my friends trust me with their children. They were a bit worried that in the midst of so many people helping out that someone would forget somewhere. Remarkably, no one got forgotten as far as I know. Their older daughter actually listened to some phone messages and alerted me that one of the boys had a dental appointment. Between the two of us we managed to get him there and picked up. When I went to drop the boy off, his mom had called the office apologizing that she needed to cancel. She didn't know we had worked it out.

I am grateful for this trust.

God Sees You -- Hope Chronicles 79

For five years I met with a boy in the Residential Treatment Center here in town. We met once a week for 2-3 hours. He was fixated on gadgets. He wanted to put back together broken things even though he had no clue what he was doing. If it was electronic, he was convinced he could make it happen. Amazingly, he did manage a few things, but often he needed help of some kind. (Note: my help was worthless when it came to electronics.)

I introduced him to baking. At 8 he had never helped make cookies from scratch. The first time went well. The second time he insisted that he knew what he was doing while cracking the eggs. He didn't want me to remind him how. I let him try twice. Two smashed eggs later he reluctantly let me put my hands on his and gently tap the bowl and separate the shell. (Thankfully, I had the foresight to have him attempt to crack them in a bowl apart from the batter.)

Aren't we all a lot like him -- imagining we are wiser or stronger than we really are? Usually, it leads to a mess of some kind.

I was reading today and read Pslam 33. Here are verses 16-22 (NIV). The emphasis is mine.

No king is saved by the size of his army;
no warrior escapes by his great strength.
A horse is a vain hope for deliverance;
despite all it's great strength it cannot save.
But the eyes of the Lord are on those
who fear him, on those whose HOPE
is in his unfailing love,
to deliver from death and keep them alive in famine.
We wait in hope for the Lord;
he is our help and our sheild.
In him our hearts rejoice
for we trust in his holy name.
May your unfailing love rest upon us, O' Lord
even as we put our hope in you.

So many times we try in vain. We are a delusional people in some sense. We have never out grown the two-year-old saying "ME DO IT!" to something that they cannot possibly do. While most of us don't put our hope in horses, we do put our hope in our abilities, our gifts, our position, our education, . . . . All of these things are vain hopes.

But we can have hope because "the eyes of the Lord are on those who fear him." We can have hope because God sees us. He looks down from the heights of heaven and sees you. He looks down and sees me. Knowing this lets us rest in/hope in his unfailing love.

But it is a choice to rest because you know God sees you, because you know he is your shield and your help. It is sometimes an act of will to hope in the midst of the raw circumstances of life: injury, death, a flailing economy, loneliness, depression.

That act of will, that choice is something called trust. It's when you hand the "egg" to the Lord and let Him help you crack it. When you put your hope in His unfailing love, you can rest in the fact that His eyes never waver from you, you are never out of His mind or sight for even a millisecond.

Can you make the choice to trust that God sees YOU all the time, everywhere? Can you trust that He has your best interest at heart -- no matter what comes? That is what it means to hope. We cannot hope when we do not trust.

40 to 40 (Gratitude 6)

I am thankful for children --those I know and those I don't. Children have a way of wiggling their way into my heart. It can be a child at the bookstore crying over something or having a slumber party with a couple of kids I know.

Last year for my birthday I actually took 8 kids ice skating! It was in the midst of a snow storm, so the ice arena was almost empty. The kids ranged in age from 5 to 14 and they are all just all around good kids. It did my heart good to see the older ones helping the younger ones.

My friend Allison also stayed to skate and treated me with a birthday cake. This is a picture of me, Elena, and Addie while they were clearing the ice.

I just genuinely like making children happy. I love to see them smile. And when one of my little friends yells, "Amy!" from across the room, they make my day.

The older ones are fun as well. We just do different things like bowling or games or something of that nature. I like it that the older ones seem to feel safe talking to me about any manner of things. I love the idea that I am a safe person.

So, children of all ages are what I am grateful for today.

My Heart's Desire

If you asked me what I want more than anything, I would say a family. I know, I should probably say a deeper walk with Jesus. And I do want that, but family has been on my mind lately.

Perhaps it has been on my mind even more lately. I recently had the annual female check up. They had me do a fasting blood draw. It was not good. I was also not in a good frame of mind that day. I see the nurse practitioner. She wanted to go over the results with me. I told her I didn't want to to know. She went over them anyway. Sigh.

But today I went back and they were much improved -- so much so that they won't check it again until I go back in a year.

But I am turning 40 in a few short months -- two months from Wed. So, they scheduled me for a a mammogram. I had one once before when I thought I felt something. It was a cyst. So, this was my second. I knew what to expect. Still, who likes to be squished?

So, when I was getting my blood drawn today, the entire 40 thing was very much on my mind. I told her I had a question but not about the labs. My question was, "At 40 how long do I have to have a child?" Yes, I teared up. She said there are no signs of menopause yet and maybe not even until I'm 50. But after the 35 the quality of the eggs decreases and pregnancy gets riskier.

I suppose it was a silly question. I'm not even dating anyone. I'm not sure I know anyone to date. But that ache is there. Today I just wanted to ask God, "Why give me all the parts and the desire to have children if they are not going to be used?"

No answer yet. But it is a big question.

But then sometimes I think God doesn't "zap" and fix things because there is something I am suppose to learn along the way.

And I am struck by how I opened this post. Why don't I have that same ache that I have for a family that I have for a deeper relationship with Jesus. Yes, the upcoming birthday has stirred things up, but shouldn't my desire always be first and foremost a desire for Him?

So, I'm praying that God would set the order right in my mind and heart. And I'm praying for a "Yes" to both.

Figuring Out Friendship

It was over a year ago now, I ran into a friend I hadn't seen in a long time. When we first became friends, we saw each other quite frequently and would go walking on the Constitution Trail. In the winter we would walk around the mall. But she got serious with someone and they eventually got married. She was also trying to pay off some bills, so they both started working at night cleaning offices. When the bills were paid off, they decided they liked the income, so they kept working and then on the weekends jaunted off on trips.

Over the course of paying off bills and such, I called less and less because it seemed harder and harder to maneuver a way to get together. It just kind of happened over time that we didn't see each other. When I ran into her over a year ago, she said flatly, "My mother died and you didn't call."

I tried to apologize and explained that I didn't get the paper, that I hadn't known. Her face was stern. The question on my mind later was, "If you wanted to talk, why didn't you call me?"

I understand that she was hurt, but I wasn't sure how I was to know unless she or husband or someone called. I don't get the paper. I probably wouldn't look at the obituaries if I did. I definitely don't go online to look them up. I hadn't meant to be neglectful just as I'm sure she hadn't meant to neglect all the goings on in my life. But the blame was there.

Yesterday I got an email that set my teeth on edge. Again it was a blame kind of thing. I met a woman early this year from church. I had called and we had done something a handful of times. She quit coming to church but I still called a few times. The last time we were set to get together, I had called at the last minute. She didn't have anything going on. I hadn't had a very good day. I went to the restaurant and was waiting for her when she called to cancel. It seemed she had gotten a better offer.

I was hurt but it was nothing that couldn't be mended. But, I figured that since she had canceled I would wait and let her call to reschedule. It was a relatively new friendship and I didn't want to fall into the routine of being the only one to initiate. That was probably the end of April and I never heard from her until yesterday. And then I got the "You must be really angry since you haven't called." But she hadn't called either. Maybe I shouldn't have, but I emailed her back and pointed this out. I don't know where it leaves us.

In most relationships, there seems to be a person who is asked and a person who does the asking. I think it is rarely 50-50. But it does get tiresome to always be the asker.

The question I am pondering is "How do we take friendhsips as they are?" Some people are the initiators. But I don't know that the people on the other side of the friendship value it any less. Still, that is the trap I can fall into.

So, here are some questions for you that might shed some light on things for me:

• Are you an initiator? If so, do you get your feelings hurt when others don't initiate with you?
• If you aren't an initiator, how do you feel like you communicate value in a friendship?
• What is one rule of thumb you have in making and keeping friends?

Sometimes I wish that we could go back to being children. I'm fascinated by how easily children can pick up friends. The girl they met in the McDonald's play space is quickly included in the list of friends. If you are not watching closely, they are making plans to meet again at the same time next week (even if they can't drive and don't have money) because they have formed a best friend club. And then there are boys with their pickup basketball games. To children it seems that all the world is a friend.

Maybe because we don't play on jungle gyms anymore, it is harder for adults to form those relationships. Yes, I know these aren't life long relationships, but still it seems an easier way to begin and has many more chances than our grownup renditions.

Obedient Heart -- Hope Chronlicles 47

I probably should have taken a before and after shot but then I might have been too embarrassed to post them. I did a major cleaning/organizing overhaul on my catch all room yesterday. It was a disaster, an embarrassment. While everything isn't sorted, a large portion 2/3 or so got toted off to the basement. You can actually walk through that room! This is a major accomplishment.

My basement is unfinished. There are lots of things to prowl around down there. After Katy got closed down there a couple of times without my thinking about it, I generally keep the cats up when I head there. But, I knew it would be a longer project, so I left the door open and decided to count heads when I was through.

Katy had been down there before and tired of it quickly. Mali was enthralled. On my last trip back up I realized she was way under the stairs playing happily. I didn't think I'd manage to snag her, but when I got to the kitchen I yelled in my most authoritative voice, "Mali! COME!" To my utter astonishment, my command took precedence over what she was so happily doing. She darted up those stairs and came to a halt right in front of me!

While we have worked on "come" for awhile, it has generally been distraction free and with me in sight. Just my body posture and position probably clue her in that treats are forthcoming. This, however, was by the sheer call.

Books will tell you that cats are not generally obedient. They need convincing that they want to do what you are asking. I think humans are like that too. At two, we start with "Why?" While some of that may be about rainbows, it can also be about going to bed.

Growing up I was very obedient. We did not question because we knew the consequences. Perhaps it wasn't about obedience as much as it was about fear. Even today, I am very law abiding and rule following. However, this belies a questioning heart. Whenever there is room (and sometimes when there is not), I've taken my freedom as an adult into an incessant questioning. I need to be convinced on many things.

But there are times when obedience is necessary without knowing the why of it. I think of a child careening through the yard after a ball that has rolled into the street, heedless of the oncoming car. When mom yells, "Suzie, STOP!!!" we hope in that instance Suzy will immediately heed the call.

That call is one of protection. It is also one of relationship. That child knows the mother's voice like the sheep know the shepherd's voice.

So, Mali's immediate obedience over something she was delighting in has caused me to pause. Do I respond so immediately to God's call? Understanding is a good thing, but sometimes it must be enough to know the ONE who calls and respond with immediate obedience.

It seems that there is hope in that because it reflects the depth of the relationship. Perhaps it is like the "folly" of asking God to teach patience, but I think I will ask anyway. I think it might be worth the risk.

God, teach me to have an obedient heart -- when there is time for questions but even more so when an instant response is necessary. Show me what it looks like to have that kind of relationship with you. Teach me to know that the only thing I must understand is your love and call on my life and that those are more than enough to answer any why.

The Danger of Grasping -- Hope Chronicles 45

"I want . . . !" Go through any retail store and you will hear this cry from a toddler and subtler versions from older children and teens. If we are honest, we recognize the same cry in our heart. It can be about things. I want what so and so has -- house, husband, kids, car . . . . Maybe it is that I want to look like _________ (fill in the most beautiful person you know). Maybe it is the intangible things like respect and honor or position.

When we get down to it and are truly honest with ourselves, there thousands of "I want . . ." statements fueling our hearts and minds. Sometimes, those "I want" statements turn into "I deserve" statements. We are mortally offended that God or someone else hasn't provided what is so deserved.

I couldn't quite figure it out. But a couple I know at church has an unusual arrangement. They are very happily married but she kept her own name when they married. No, it's not even hyphenated. When both of their children were born, they took her name. Other things in their home are off from what one would typically anticipate. He does most of the cooking and grocery shopping. After knowing them for a few months I was really curious. I started asking questions.

The last is the easiest to explain. He enjoys cooking. His schedule also allows him to get home before she does.

Why didn't she take his last name? She is Latina. If she had taken his last name, her name would not have reflected that piece of her identity at all.

But what about the kids? My friend told me that it was his idea that the kids take her name. Most fathers would want their kids to have their last name. It's not that he didn't want that. However, he looked at the greater scheme. If the kids took his last name, they might be removed from a big piece of their cultural heritage on their mother's side. He opted out of any desire to have the kids have his name so that their last name could reflect their mother's Latina heritage. Given that both children are very blond, light eyed, and fair skinned, without knowing their name and their fluency in Spanish, one would never guess their heritage.

This couple amazes me.

As I've thought about it, I've been reminded of Jesus. In Isaiah 53:2-4 says:

He grew up before him like a tender shoot, and like a root out of dry ground. He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted.

I find that passage hard to wrap my Sunday school soaked picture soaked brain around. The pictures I always see portray an attractive man in his thirties with people thronging to him. He'll carry a lamb or have a smiling child balanced on a knee. But it says, "nothing in his appearance that we should desire him." We considered him stricken by God.

If I had my choice as God as what form in which to come, I think it would have been with beauty. Perhaps it is good that I'm not God. Even having that thought might mean that my reason for coming was bent toward worship at that moment rather than rescue of lost souls.

In those times even the death he died was considered cursed by God. Deuteronomy 21:23 says this: "you must not leave his body on the tree overnight. Be sure to bury him that same day, because anyone who is hung on a tree is under God's curse." I know the theology that Jesus had to suffer and die for our sins. But I am struck that the death he died was actually considered a cursed by God death.

Philippians 2 encourages us that our attitude should be the same of Jesus.

Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death— even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Who being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.

Grasping. Children are always grasping and reaching for something. Part of it is about growing and learning. I know that. But when the other toddler has a toy you've been ignoring and you suddenly want it -- bang them on the head and take it! As we grow, we learn to temper or hide that, but I think that I often have a grasping heart. I'm always grasping for what I do not have. I want to be just like so and so and have what they have. Not so with Jesus. Even though he was rightfully and fully God, He did not consider equality with God something to be grasped . . . . Because He did not have a grasping heart, He looked to our interests and died on the cross.

What a blessed hope there is in a God who would make himself nothing to rescue the lost. I pray that I would understand what it means to have a humble, hopeful heart rather than a grasping one.

Operation Compassion

My friend Jill is in El Salvador with Compassion International for the week. It is heart wrenching to read about all that she is seeing. She has pictures up as well. Please visit her blog at http://www.jillsavage.blogspot.com/ to see the pictures and here what she is seeing. She wrote yesterday that she has never seen so much poverty and that it brought her to tears. That is a great picture of compassion.

Do you sponsor a child? If you do, please post about your child and leave a comment here and I will visit to read about your child. Later in the week, if people leave links to their sites, I'll post them in a list.

I sponsor two little girls -- one in Ecuador and one in Rwanda. I'll post a bit about them over the next couple of days.

Please consider reading what about Jill's time in El Salvador and pray about becoming a sponsor!

Amy

Ripple

It was late in the day --very late in the day. In fact, it was about 4:20 when the gentleman walked through the door. He hurriedly filled out some paperwork. I could have easily put it off until Monday as it didn't end up on my desk until 4:26 and we close at 4:30. However, I could tell from the conversation at the front desk that this wouldn't go over well and I thought I could take care of it in a few minutes.

While I was setting up the account, a coworker continued to converse with the man. He was not happy to learn that his account would only last 30 days. He was assured that it could be renewed with an email. He seemed to think this was a bigger deal than it actually was. I typically take care of these accounts every morning at 6:30 when I get in. It is the first thing I do. If a renewal email comes in during the day, I genuinely try to take care of it that day. But this didn't satisfy him.

Evidently, I was not the only one listening. When my coworker turned to me and the man pressed, I gave the same answer and a supervisor popped out of his office.

The man was not loud but he was persistent. He was not rude but he was tense. Perhaps it was the tenseness that made the ripple through the office. It was obvious that everyone was aware that there was a problem.

I had errands to run and places to be and disentangled myself as quickly as I could.

Tonight, I had a friend's children. We played a few games, ate brownies, and watched some TV. In the midst of that, a delicate question crept in. It took me by surprise, but I fielded it and let mom know the nature of it when she collected them. As we watched TV, I pondered that question -- not so much the content but the influence my answer might have. I care deeply about these kids and think that I am a positive influence in their lives.

I don't want to overstate it, but I hope that even in the mundane things like brownies and games and the occasional challenging question that I am having a ripple effect. Who knows how long or far away that ripple may be felt. Oh, no one may ever be able to point to a game night three or four times and many years removed, but I still think it may count.

Ray Boltz is a Christian singer. Though, I haven't heard his work in quite awhile. He use to have a song out about that ripple effect. Someone got to heaven and God revealed all the lives they had impacted that they had never known about. Person after person said, "I am a life that was changed . . . ."

I have to stop and wonder if my ripple is negative or positive . . . . I'm sure it is not (sadly) wholly one or the other. But I pray that it is more positive than negative and may God nudge me before I throw the negative (intentional or unintentional) stone in the pond of life.

Take a Child by the Hand

There is an old French proverb that goes, "Who takes a child by the hand takes a mother by the heart." I don't know it from a mother's vantage point, but I understand it as one who has invested in children.

Today in the county office I work in, I got to play it out. We don't see very many children in our office, but a mom came in with two little ones in tow. One looked to be about 4 and the other about 2 1/2. She wanted to drop off a Quit Claim Deed to be recorded. While it is not always the case, we see these a lot when there is a divorce in the works. One spouse "quit claims" solely to the other. (There are other reasons as well, but this can be the situation.)

I started examining the document and noted that a couple things were missing. I double checked with a coworker who actually knew the mom from a distance in high school. He came up to help as I was explaining another form that needed to be filled out . . . . And the kids ran in and out the door and down the hall and spun on the stool. Mom picked the little boy up to keep him corralled and tried to listen as I explained. But listening was difficult since he was now sitting on the counter and kicking his feet and trying to figure out an escape route.

Since my coworker had walked up, I decided to opt out of the explaining. I held out my arms to the little boy and said, "Want to come see me?" To mom's surprise, he did. So, I invited him and his sister back to my desk where I let them pick out cat pictures (used page-a-day calendar sheets -- great for scratch paper or impromptu gifts for awed children) and transformed a piece of paper into an origami swan. (Something I learned from my second grade teacher many moons ago!)

They were thrilled and mom thanked me twice. I feel like even in that small interaction, I took her children by the hand and took her by the heart. I gave her a moment's peace and possibly a sprinkling of hope. I'd like to think I did that.

I don't believe in past lives, but if I did, I think I must have been a preschool teacher at one time. In another life, I was probably a lion tamer since I am so in to teaching Mali tricks at the moment. Maybe the two go hand in hand -- taming preschool children?

The One Who Waits

It was one of the hardest aspects of the job. It had to be done, so I did it but I hated it. Every Wed. morning I would get to the office early, go in and grab a car seat, and head out to pick up a little 2 1/2 year old. He was always excited to see me. I would pick him up and transport him back to the office for a visit with his mom.

You see, I spent several years working in foster care. It's a high stress job with little pay. But most people do it because they believe that some of the most vulnerable in our society need protecting.

Supervising parent-child visits came with the territory. Hence, the early morning trek to pick up this little guy. On good days, we would arrive back at the office and I would watch him and his mom interact for two hours (awkward but necessary) and provide helpful direction (typically ill received) when needed.

But the bad days came more often than the good days. We would arrive back at the office and settle in the waiting room to wait for mom. More often than not, she didn't show. After 30 -40 minutes, I would help him back into his coat and return him -- sobbing -- back to the sitter. It always broke my heart. How could she not come? She only got 2 hours a week with her son.

The foster parents actually had to reroute to avoid driving by the office. As sure as he would see the building his hope of seeing his mom would rise and then plummet when they didn't stop. He would begin to wail.

I confronted the mom (and the many others like her) on missing the visits. She was flippant. He was little. What did he know? And then came the excuses: missed the bus, got up late, forgot, just couldn't make it and couldn't bother to call. With permission, I finally instituted a policy for her and other parents that routinely missed visits. If the visit was at 8:45 AM, she had to be there before I left to pick him up. It meant she spent half an hour waiting, but it spared that little boy the sheer disappointment he felt when she didn't appear.

I've been thinking a lot about those foster care days. When ever I have a recurring thought, I think it is God's way of reminding me of something. In this case, I am reminded of how eagerly God awaits our time with Him. He doesn't miss. There aren't any no shows on His end.

And when I miss, I think He has all the disappointment (maybe even more) of that little guy.

And I am convicted that though I know the importance of regular time with my heavenly Father, I take it too lightly. There is an errand to run or someone to call. I wake up late and have to rush to get out the door. I always promise -- tonight I'll make time. But then the evening comes . . . . It's so easy to over look it in the business of life.

Here is to a renewed commitment of daily time with Him. He's always waiting for me and you.

A Child's Faith, A Mother's Heart, and Daring to Hope -- Hope Chronicles 23

Several years ago Julie was driving back to visit her family with her children. The oldest was in the third grade. She pulled out a yellow legal pad and announced that they were going to make a list. This got Julie's attention. After all, it was spring and Christmas was many months away. Julie inquired as to what the list was for. Her daughter announced that it was a list of things they wanted in a husband for their mom. (Sorry, Oprah, this little one was way ahead of you on love lists!)

Her younger daughter started off with things like money and a nice car. With all the wisdom of a third grader, her older daughter said, "No, he first has to be a Christian." And then, after getting the younger girl more focused, they moved on from there.

Recently, Julie's girls (now both teenagers and the older one a year away from college) were cleaning out their memory boxes. Her oldest found the list that Julie had stowed there. "Mom," she said, "he has all these things." You see, Julie remarried a few years ago after dating her husband for five years! He was patient enough to wait around for her to be ready.

I got teary as Julie related the story. She rushed to say, "I didn't tell you that to make you cry!" I know she didn't but I didn't know if I dared to hope. Sometimes it feels easier not to hope than to have a hope and not see it fulfilled.

What are the things you hope for but can't see yet?

This week a friend looped me in on some communication she was having with another single woman. This is a portion of the email she sent:

"I want to encourage you that you can still be a mother in a non-traditional way. My friend, Amy, is 39 years old and never married. She, too, sometimes gets down about her desire to marry and have children. But I want you to know that she has so connected in my kids lives that she often mothers them. She takes them for fun outings. She watches them so my husband and I can have time. She has had some deep conversations with them when they've asked deep questions."

I was touched by my friend's words. "She has so connected in my kids lives that she often mothers them." In my separate conversation with Julie, I asked, "So why did God give me a mother's heart and empty arms?" Julie suggested that maybe it is just a "not yet" and that I needed to keep myself open. To think that it is a lost cause closes off my heart to possibilities. She wanted me to make a list.

I know some of you reading are not single. But I hope you can still relate. What is it that you so hope for that it scares you because what would happen if that dream didn't come true?

It is hard to hope and not see how that hope might be fulfilled. Sometimes people try to make you feel better and say, "God has a better plan for you." They mean well, but sometimes it can make it feel harder. I do know that God doesn't take that longing, that hope (whatever it is in your life) lightly. Scripture recognizes the weight of it. In Proverbs 13:12 (NIV) it says, "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."

It's okay to have that longing -- whatever it might be for you. It's okay to sometimes feel down about it. But be careful. Don't make it into an idol. (An idol is anything that takes center stage instead of God.)

So, some of that is okay. BUT, God also calls us to turn our eyes to Him. I'll only quote part of Psalm 42 here (8-11), but I encourage you to look at the whole thing:

By day the LORD directs his love,

at night his song is with me—

a prayer to the God of my life.

I say to God my Rock,

"Why have you forgotten me?

Why must I go about mourning,

oppressed by the enemy?"

My bones suffer mortal agony

as my foes taunt me,

saying to me all day long,

"Where is your God?"

Why are you downcast, O my soul?

Why so disturbed within me?

Put your hope in God,

for I will yet praise him,

my Savior and my God.

Even when my dreams feel far away, I am called to put my hope in God -- to praise my God and Rock. So, I thought about all the kids I've "mothered" over the years: Elizabeth, Hannah, Jonathan, David, Billy, Theresa, . . . and I could come up with quite a list if I really looked back and took stock. In that perspective, my arms have been anything but empty!

Julie also reminded me of Sarah in the Bible who went to great lengths to have a child and really made things worse than if she had just waited on God. I'm like her in wanting to just make whatever happen. And Julie said, "Don't be like Sarah. Don't laugh at God." (Genesis 18:12-16).

So, I'm daring to hope. And though it feels risky, I started that list. Meanwhile, I will not waste the mother instincts God has given me.

What will you dare to hope for? What will you do while you are waiting and trusting and praising God for whatever may come?

First To Say "Hello"

I went to the mall today. Apparently, there is something wrong with my X chromosomes because I avoid the mall at all costs. I'm devoid of the "female shopping" gene. In fact, I don't remember the last time I went to the mall. No -- it wasn't at Christmas. It had to be way before that! (To pay for Christmas this year, I got a part time, seasonal job at Barnes and Noble. So, practically everyone, with very few exceptions, got something I could pick up there. The pay could be better, but the discount was really nice!)

But, a friend is having a birthday soon and I hadn't run across anything yet to get her. (No luck at the mall either! Which means I may have to go back and look some more or think of something creative.) Shopping for me is a sprinting event. First, you need to know exactly where you are going. Second, you devise the plan as how to get there and get out. Third, you only look at the things that jump out and bite you! Unfortunately, that technique doesn't always work.

I was walking briskly through Kohls, scanning things. A high pitched little voice exclaimed, "Hi!" I slowed and realized that the tyke in the stroller was talking to another woman who was passing. She yelled, "Hi!" again to the woman. As I neared, she shouted, "Hi!" to me as well. "Hi! Hi! Hi!" Being an all around kid-friendly person, I slowed and smiled and said, "Hi, there!" This delighted her. She turned to watch as I passed -- yelling her greeting. I waved and smiled.

Really, she was irresistible. Who could not respond to such a friendly greeting?

But it got me to thinking. I wondered if she will always be the kind of person who is the first to say, "Hello!" or if something will shift as she grows up. Honestly, I hope it doesn't.

I don't know that I was ever the kind of child who would go through a store cheerily shouting, "Hi!" I was pretty shy and reserved and didn't do much to call attention to myself. But I wish I had been that kind of child and I definitely wish I was that kind of adult.

Here is a question for you. Are you the kind of person who is always the first to say, "Hello" or are you the kind who waits to see what the waters hold? That is to say, the kind who waits for another to initiate.

I am the later. As I've thought about it today, I think it is largely fear based. There's less rejection if I don't "put myself out there" by saying, "Hi!" I think it also shows more of a concern with my comfort than yours. Who wouldn't want a friendly greeting?

With awareness comes responsibility. So, I guess I need to work on my friendly "Hello" for tomorrow. Who knows what will come of it when I am willing to risk and willing to put someone else's comfort ahead of my own? I think it is what God is calling me to.

So, let's start now -- "Hello there!"

Things to Smile About . . . .

The last couple of days I have been fighting feeling very melancholy. Actually, I'm kind of proud of how I've done. While there have been a few tears, I've managed to keep moving and have a reasonably good attitude. But, it has been sheer will power. The melancholiness isn't totally without reason. I've made a few hard decisions over the last few days and they are sinking in. But to combat that, I am going to make a list of things that make me smile and maybe leave a few pictures too. I don't know yet. I'm making this up as I go.


However, I want you to participate too in "make Amy smile." Leave me a comment about something that makes you smile. If it is a silly picture or something, tell me that and I'll visit your site to see the picture.

• So, here we go, in no specific order:
  Mali and Katy (my cats) make me smile. Here they are on top of the refrigerator. There are no rules about being on the refrigerator. However, there are rules about being on the counters. Since, they are good, obedient kitties, I'm sure they just flew up there!


• Playing with the cats is fun too. Katy actually plays fetch and I'm teaching Mali tricks from a book I got.


• Speaking of the refrigerator, I notice that it has lots of pictures on it. They are of people I love. Though you can't see it here, there are some picture my little friends have drawn for me too!

My church makes me smile. I've been going there for maybe 4 years now. It makes me smile to think how much I've changed in that time. Honestly, I was as skittish as a horse when I first started going. One Sunday, someone came up behind me to adjust the thermostat. They just about had to pry me off the ceiling. Now, I am much more relaxed and can engage people.

• Remembering the 3 years I spent living with a family while I was on staff with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship in Indiana. Jerry had jokingly suggested it once. Several months later, I brought it back up. We decided to try it for 6 months and then evaluate. I stayed for 3 years -- until I transffered to a different state. I paid minimal rent and helped out with the kids. I cooked once or twice a week to give Dana a break. If I was home, I would clean up when she cooked. I had my own space in the basement. Jerry always said it was particularly great at meals because the kids didn't out number the adults. We each took care of one child (Hannah, Elizabeth, and Jonathan) -- cutting up food and what not.



• Remembering God's provision while I was on staff. You have to raise all of your own support (health insurance, salary, office supplies, you name it and we raised it). On average, lets say I raised $30,000 a year and I was on staff 11 years . . . . That is a staggering amount of money to raise. God sold a lot of cattle for me!
• Remembering that God loves me as I am but still expects me to grow.
• Helping make Elizabeth a birthday cake that you cut peices out and then assemble into a butterfly. She was 4 and wanted a butterfly birthday. It was chocolate cake with yellow frosting and pastel M&M's.
• Thinking about Billy makes me smile. Billy was a child I volunteered with for 5 years. He lived in a residential facility in town and I spent 2-3 hours a week with him. I wasn't sure when they assigned me a boy. I was more familiar with little girl stuff, but Billy and I hit it off. He was labeled "behaviorally/emotionally disturbed." In the 5 years, I only ever had to take him back early for misbehavior twice. I think because I did that, he knew what to expect and if I gave him a warning I followed through! The staff thought I was crazy the first time I announced I was going to teach him to make cookies from scratch. At 8, he had never baked. But he loved it and really enjoyed taking the treats back to the kids on his unit. I think it gave him a sense of importance.



• Billy tried to teach me to rollerblade! I never got the hang of it. We rollerbladed in the basement of the residential treatment center. The only way I could stop was by running into the wall! Luckily, it was the "skate room" and there weren't a lot of obstacles to avoid. Billy and I played a game of tag on skates -- racing from one end to the other.


• Thinking about my paternal grandmother makes me smile. She always believed in me. I was a really shy and quiet child -- except with her. She brought me out of myself more than anyone I can remember. She listened raptly to all the details in my 10-year-old heart. This included listening to some of my first writings.



• Being around friends.


• Knowing that God will never leave me or forsake me.


• Horses and riding. Though I haven't done it in a year due to an injury and then the expense. It just isn't an option at the moment.


• Surprising people. Once, my friend was out of town. I got together with another friend and we left a casserole and a dessert in her house for when she and her family got home from their trip. She was thrilled. She had just been wondering what she was going to feed 6 hungry kids and came home to find it already made. I love doing stuff like that.


• Kid of all shapes and sizes. This is Addy. She is such a shy and retiring child! I wish I had about half her spunk.

Please let me know what makes you smile!

Children with Questions -- Hope Chronicles 15

A little elf of a five-year-old came up to the counter tonight as I was cashiering at the bookstore. I love kids. I love talking to them and can often readily converse on some of their favorite things. Since it is Feb., things have slowed down. There is more of a chance to have a brief conversation than there was with the franticness of serving customers during the Christmas season.

I appropriately "ahhed" over the Dora the Explorer book and the princess book she came up with and asked how old she was . . . .

I must have put her at ease because she decided that she could ask me questions as well. "Where's your mommy?"

"Well, I don't have a mommy anymore." I could see the wheels in her head turning.

"Where are your kids?"

A bit of a gulp on my part. "I don't have any kids -- yet."

"Where's the other people?" she persisted.

"The other people?"

"You gotta live with people."

I checked for more customers, but there was no one in line. "No, I don't live with anyone. I'm a grownup and sometimes grownups live by themselves." This was obviously a new concept.

"You don't got nobody?"

Well, I didn't know how deep this conversation was going to go. Her mother was writing a check and didn't seem inclined to save me, so I decided to go with diversion. "Would you like a sticker?" She started to ask another question and I said, "How about another?"

I have spent a lot of time with children and had more than my share (considering I don't have kids) of the awkward questions ranging from manners, to bodily functions, to death, and even dating and sex. I try to be a safe person and answer as simply and straightfoward as I can (and fill in the parents or care givers regarding my answers . . . .) But I recognized this innocent conversation as one that has the potential to really trip me up. It hits me in the areas I experience the most longing in: day to day connection, family, and marriage and kids.

The little girl's perspective makes total sense to me. She lives in a world where mom and dad are the world. Children are typically egocentric (the world revolves around me). Actually, adults are egocentric too, but we have learned to mask it better! Her life is one of being a daughter (hence the mother question). The closest people to her are parents; thus, I got the children question. My guess is that she also has brothers or sisters, so how could anyone live alone?

Though I am an adult, I think I also define myself in terms of relationships. So, in the absence of the most key relationships (a rocky family of origin, the death of my mother, no husband, no kids) I can sometimes find myself floundering. Who am I in a world that defines us in relation to another or to a role?

Since it was slow tonight, I had a chance to ponder this. Yes, those relationships are ones that are key in the lives of many, possibly most, people. But the more than being key, being crucial, is my relationship to Jesus. It is He who loves me now and through eternity. It is God who is a father to the fatherless and the defender of widows (and singles) and orphans. It is Jesus who is ultimately my bridegroom. In each of these things and the daily blessings of friends and a half dozen kids I can love on and give back to their parents when they are tired or cranky, there is hope. My hope is in Jesus.

CS Lewis writes the following in Mere Christianity:

"If none of my earthly pleasures satisfy it, that does not prove that the universe is a fraud. Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for something else of which they are only a kind of copy, or echo, or mirage. I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and help others do the same."

The things I too often look to, a husband and kids and all of that, cannot satisfy my deepest longing. CS Lewis is right in that. While these things might be blessings and things I desire, they are not the be all-end all. No, that would be Jesus. The beginning and the end, the alpha and omega. I have hope because of who I am in relation to Jesus.