“When the Phone Rings” A Zoe’s House Adoptions Post

“Anytime that phone rings with an unknown number my heart pounds and a lump forms in my throat. I take a breathe like a prayer and press that button, choking out a greeting that I hope sounds less nervous than I feel.  “Hello, this is Christina with Zoe’s House….” and most of the time the response deflates me like a balloon. It’s a doctor, a social worker, a friend from a local pregnancy resource center who has a question or someone wanting to donate maternity clothes and all of those calls I can answer with ease.

But when it’s the other call, the “Hello……(pause)… I’m pregnant and want to talk to someone about adoption?” Those times, that lump grows larger, my breath catches and for a moment I draw a blank, every time. The significance of that moment and what it costs her to ask that question is never lost on me.”

Click Here to read the rest of this post that I wrote for Zoe’s House Adoptions!

“Extending Grace”… A Zoe’s House Adoptions Post

“Is there anything that you need?” I asked.

Shaking her head no she replied “I’m good.”

“What about maternity clothes?”  She’d come in wearing an oversized t-shirt and gym shorts and I couldn’t help but believe that was due to more than just her trying to hide her growing stomach.”

Click here to read the rest of this post that I wrote for Zoe’s House this week.

Mind Your Manners

Tonight I ran into Target on a quick errand (every woman’s favorite place to be on a quiet evening, am I right?) and while bustling up the center aisle of the store was stopped by a voice behind me saying, “Hey!”

I turned to see a tall man whose face was vaguely familiar and after a moment I recognized him as someone who had attend my church when I was new to the community many years ago. Stepping towards me in a friendly manner he continued, “I haven’t seen you in a long time!” and threw out his arm for a hug. I haven’t seen this man in at least 6 years, he’s probably 10 years older than me and as he was never more familiar to me than a friendly face at church I replied with a smile and hello, responding to his invitation with a high-five. This was acknowledged by a surprised jerk of his head and a widening of his eyes…..before he completely ignored my clear though non-verbal communication and hugged me anyway.

As he pulled away I took a step back from him and straightened to be as “big” as my full 5’4 frame allows. This is a familiar response that I have practiced since childhood when feeling threatened and when he would see it my father would laugh and quote the bat from Fern Gully saying “Puff up! Puff up! They hate that!”. But I digress.

The man smiled and continued as though he hadn’t just tramped through my physical boundaries asking, “How ya doin?”

Swallowing my frustration for the sake of being polite I replied “Great!”

“Oh yeah, what are you up to these days?”

“Oh, you know, just working.”

The conversation continued another minute of him asking questions and my attempting to politely reply with vague answers when without warning he stepped towards me, removing the distance I had intentionally put between us. “So…..hey…..?” and raising his eyebrows in a question he placed his hand on my left elbow before running it down my arm to grab my hand and hold it high while lightly rubbing his thumb across my bare ring finger…… as I stared, dumbfounded. Snatching my hand back and thrusting both hands into my pockets I again stepped back from him, shaking my head and stammering, “Oh no, no no.” His eyebrows raised higher and he asked with a smile and suggestive tone, “Really….No?”.

By now my blood was boiling. I smiled again and firmly said, “I’m on a time crunch and need to go”. Turning on my heel I heard his voice behind me say, “It was great to see you….. Christina, isn’t it?” and glancing over my shoulder I saw him grinning, watching me do my best to not storm down the aisle.

Walking through the store I found the brief, bizarre interaction playing over in my mind as I tried to analyze what in the world had just happened. Had I done something to encouraged his over familiar, rude behavior? Was there any situation in the past that would have led him to believe that he had the right to both touch and treat me that way? Why did I feel the need to be polite to someone treating me with such a lack of respect? I can already hear the defenses coming starting with, “That’s really not a big deal….” so I’ll step back and reiterate a few points. I don’t know this man. He was never more than a familiar face from a long time ago. There was never a friendship. I do not even know his last name but for reasons beyond me this man who is both older and larger than me felt that he had the right to ignore my very clear physical boundaries. And just so we are all clear may I say gently that it is never ok to force someone to touch you in any manner?

As a single 30-year-old woman living in a conservative community I have heard just about all that there is to hear related to singleness and marriage. I don’t mean that in a negative way whatsoever. I love community, love my church, deeply love family and would like to have my own one day! I have read many books, attended seminars and listed to sermons related to both topics and am neither bitter towards my married friends or angry at the season of life that I am in. However, I find that just about everyone else seems to feel differently about that than I do. I have been questioned as though there is something wrong with my being single, not by close friends mind you but by acquaintances, people who at one time may have had an invitation from me to speak into my life, people who assume that familiarity grants them that right and recently, by perfect strangers. I wish that there would be a way to communicate the sincere gentleness in my tone as I make this statement…. frankly, it is not anyone’s business. I have no need to make excuses and I do not owe anyone an explanation. I’m not angry, but I am TIRED of being asked to give a defense for my life as though there is a) something wrong or b) an answer that I could give that would make the questioner feel that my singleness is somehow justified to them.

The interaction that I had with this man tonight is the perfect example(although a little extreme) of the over familiarity and lack of manners that I am continually running into and as I type this in the back of my mind I hear a little grey rabbit chiding, “Mind yo’ mannews!”. I’d like to trumpet that to a whole culture that assumes familiarity where it hasn’t been earned. To the people who make unwelcome comments and suggestions to my married friends who do not have children, to the strangers who grill my friends at the playground because they have several small children close in age, to the voices asking and prodding where they have no room to speak. Have we all forgotten our manners? When did it become appropriate to stop treating each other with honor and respect, to believe it acceptable to demand answers where we have no right or room to ask questions? When did we stop treating each other with basic dignity?

And when did it become acceptable to force touch? To not ask permission? As a small person I have spent my whole life being forced into physical interactions that were unwanted. In high school it was a game among many of my male friends to literally pick me up and carry me around.  As an adult I find myself regularly in the awkward position of being forced to hug people who assume that it’s ok to sweep me up in a friendly squeeze but my stature shouldn’t determine someone else’s right to my body. I used to frame the situation as “I’m being treated as though I am a child” but now I realize that the flaw in that thinking is the assumption that a child somehow has less rights and responsibility over their body than an adult. The humiliation that I felt as 90 pound 15-year-old being thrown on the shoulder of a high school quarter back and the humiliation that I felt tonight as a stranger ran his hand down my arm is the same. This body is mine, and I should be allowed the dignity of deciding who has access to me.

Again, none of this is said in anger but rather as a plea. People, mind your manners. Remember that you do not ever know the whole of the story and that the one piece of information that you might possess doesn’t give you the right to someones personal life. Let’s THINK before we speak, before we ask, before we act. Let’s consider one another, let’s respect each other enough to ask permission and not assume. No one owes you an answer, no one owes you a touch. And to everyone out there who feels the weight of unwarranted questions, you don’t have to make an excuse and you don’t owe anyone a response :).

The Power of a Woman

I look around me and see so.many. different things that women are being pressured to do or be…..

Strong. Proud. Educated. Self Sufficient. Beautiful. Desirable. Able to speak their minds. Able to stand up for themselves. Capable. Articulate. Fit. Accomplished. Unblemished. etc etc etc etc

I’ve seen it, I’ve felt it, I’ve LIVED in the pull to live in a way that fights to convince myself more than anyone that I have got it all together, thank you very much and truly……it’s all exhausting. Trying to hold it together, to not need anyone and to look GREAT while doing it. Trying to keep the pain at bay, press past it and not let anyone see it lest they think for a moment that I may be vulnerable….may be just as weak and frail and wounded as they are.

Life, is beautiful and wild and worth living intentionally with every breath every day, but sometimes life is also really real and really hard. And from that place, I want to be a woman who is kind, compassionate and nurturing, who see’s pain and offers love, who can take a breath and slow down and empathize with the person right in front of me and stop trying to prove anything to anyone, most of all myself. I’m a fighter, God knows it kills me to back down from a fight…..but more than the ability to clench the jaw and fist through pain I believe the power of a woman is in the ability to FEEL the pain. To bear long though it, to carry new life through suffering and come out victorious.

Could we just……stop. Could we lay down those expectations that have been piled high on our shoulders by the voices around us and the voices within and just leave them where they lie. Little girl, young lady, women of all ages and races and places of life, let’s hold our heads high and not from pride but from the vulnerability and tenderness that makes us “Woman”. You have nothing to prove.

Don’t peace out

My only disclaimer is that this is not an angry rant. This is something I’ve thought out for a loooong time, and I just want to talk about it for a minute, so bear with me.

I am a single woman looking at 30 and over the last ten years my relationships have changed, really quickly. I have had the joy of being a bridesmaid ten times, a personal attendant once and have planned or made the decorations for or decorated for 5 different weddings. My friends are getting married and starting families and I love the role that I get to play in supporting them through those massive life changes. Most of my married friends have children and most of those children I have babysat for on different occasions.

I LOVE this. It’s not a burden to me, not a sad thing that constantly reminds me of my singleness in this world and I don’t say that to downplay the pain and the longing that some young women feel in my shoes.  I am just trying to say that I’m happy and seeing my friends marrying good people who love and care for them, makes me happy. Getting to continue to be a part of their lives makes me happy. Seeing the ongoing Facebook announcements of those couples becoming pregnant or adopting children makes me happy.  Being a part of their childrens lives and being loved by their children makes me happy.

I am a very committed person (really no matter the situation) especially in my friendships. I highly value intentionality and clear communication. I work really hard to say hard things and good things because I believe there is almost no deeper pain than the regret you feel at a graveside over things that were not said. If I call you “friend” then you had better believe I have got your back. I will stand with you, I will fight with you and for you, and I will love you to the best of my ability come what may. And seeing the people that I love falling in love generally makes me really, really happy.

And here it comes…..

The difficulty for me lies NOT in seeing others falling in love and then feeling bad about myself or jealous of their lives and the fact that I’m still single – AGAIN, I am not mocking people who really truly feel that pain. I am clarifying; that is not how I process when my friends are in relationships – the difficulty for me lies in the situation where someone who I call friend enters into a relationship, and OUT of relationship with everyone else. When chemistry starts flying and that special someone starts thinking that you are REALLY special, it is so natural to want to spend all of your time with them. It is natural to have the dynamics of your friendships shift and to have that person rapidly move their place of importance towards the top of your list. I have experienced this in ways where I still felt valued and still felt like I was a friend and I have experienced this in other, really difficult ways.

My friends relationships become a source of pain to me when their special someone becomes their only someone. When despite years or depth of friendship, I find myself excluded (though most likely NOT intentionally) from their lives because of that relationship. I have attended weddings of people who I once considered my closest friends, and watched the ceremony feeling like the people at the alter were mere acquaintances, because once their dating relationship began they no longer gave any time to our friendship. That is very sad thing, and the pain of that hinders me from truly feeling the joy of their union. I have experienced this in friendships, where the (for the example) girl spent all of her time with the guy and then months later when the relationship doesn’t work out, has an expectation that our friendship will pick back up as though it were unaffected by the months of no time and no communication between us, despite my trying. Sometimes, I have experienced that multiple times with the same person. It’s painful and it’s frustrating.There have been times when I will bump into these friends, and in person they seem to interact with me as though we still have the level of intimacy or friendship that we once had. This is also frustrating and very confusing, when I have continued to try and reach out in friendship with them only to have them not respond or never have time.

Listen my friends: don’t do that. When you find someone special, know that the people who care about you want to be happy for you and want to continue to be in relationship with you throughout your relationship. It is a JOY to me, to be able to call my friend’s boyfriends/girlfriends/fiancés/spouses “friend”. To be included in those relationships and to have the opportunity to get to know the person who is special to you will mean a LOT to the people in your lives. YES, the dynamics of your friendships will change as you fall in love with someone, they HAVE to, it is normal and healthy. But don’t peace out on your friends because you’re dating, falling in love or married. Your friends and YES, even your single friends DO want to maintain a level of friendship in your life and yes, that does require some intentionality. But know that when you make that special someone your only someone, it can be hurtful to the people who care about you, and can be unhealthy and potentially a dangerous thing for you. When you get married it is natural that you will want to develop friendship with other married couples, and your relationships with your single friends will change. But seeing married friends giving all of their time to married couples and feeling that there is never time for their friendship with single friends, well it just feels crummy.

Dating, engaged or married; out of love, don’t peace out.

On Grief

I posted this on Facebook about a week ago. And since my thoughts lie in this direction, wanted to paste it here as well.

“I watched an interesting video on the topic of grief the other day. At the end, the man speaks of death saying “death feeds everything that lives. The recognition that that’s the case, and that it includes, not you, that’s the easy part to see, but that it includes the people that you love and the things you don’t want to end. That’s grief, and it’s not personal. But the key, the real skill to being grateful is not to be grateful for the stuff that benefits you. That’s easy. What about being grateful for the stuff that doesn’t benefit you in the least, but you’re grateful that it’s in the world anyway? Now you’re getting somewhere, now you’re seeing the big story. Now you’re willing for life  to be bigger than your life span, or your childrens lifespan.

Grief is not a feeling. Grief’s not how you feel, grief’s what you do. Grief is a skill. And the twin of grief, as a skill of life, is the skill of being able to praise, or love, life. Which means wherever you find one authentically done, the other is very close at hand. Grief and the praise of life, side by side. …….. Grief and the ability to love life, they’re toasting the living.

That has proved so true in my life. When I have not allowed myself to grieve, my heart has grown cold and I have found myself unable to fully live. But when I allow myself to feel pain, to walk the painful and slow road through grieving I also find myself living new all over again. It’s Ann Voskamps “Eucharisteo” – swallowing the death and the life of Christ, thanking God for all things – the good and the ugly. Or as Bonhoeffer said, the Christian living life from the perspective of the end unto the beginning.

Take some time and think on that. Grief, hand in hand with the love of life. What do you think?”

On this day 4 years ago the man I was named after struggled one last time for breath, and breathed into the eternal glory of no more sickness. I remember blogging on valentines day that year of how I was able to Skype with my family in his hospice room, and coax a smile onto his beautiful, wrinkled face. I cherish that memory on days like today when I miss him deep down to my bones. His beautiful smile, his soft wrinkled hands, the smell of his shirts when he’d hug and not let go. My grandfather was a precious soul. It’s crazy to me to think that the things that remind me of him – his wrinkled hands and deeply lined face, the ragged sound of his breathing – those things that are included in all of my memories have nothing to do with who he is now. I don’t remember him without an oxygen tank, I never saw him run, never saw him young. But now he is free, whole and remade. I can’t imagine what it will be to see my grandfather whole. Today we grieve as we remember you Carroll, but our grief is laden with heavy hope. Hope that does not disappoint, grief that leads to truest life.

Hello 2015

I’m determined to blog more this year than I did last year, which shouldn’t be a challenge!  My silence is best clarified through the words of a good friend “Once we give something up, it’s much more comfortable to ignore it.”

There has been much to ignore, but there is also much to shed light on, see clearly and to say. For now all that I’ll say is… you should take two posts and read this from Randy’s blog.

“There are a lot of Jesus’ words that make me scratch my head, but there’s phrase that has made sense to me since I was a kid.

When He said “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit…”, that made sense.  I grew up watching wheat fall to the earth and die….and seeing harvests reaped because of it.” Click here to read the rest…..

Skin Care, with FOOD!

This stuff makes me happy, happy, happy.

I have funny skin. Funny as in it just doesn’t want to pick one skin type! Dry around the mouth, black heads & oil in the ‘T-zone’. For years I’ve tried product after product without success; if it targets oily skin it dries the rest of my face out, if it targets dry skin I’ll break out, if it’s for combination skin it will do nothing for me. Anything any friend suggested I’d give a try & every time I would be disappointed! Meanwhile I was still trying to remove chemical ridden products from the rest of my life, examining ingredients lists & ruling out even most “natural” or “organic” items due to long lists of things I couldn’t pronounce or chemical preservatives & “fragrances”. The biggest exception in this lifestyle change was my face. When I found a face wash & a lotion that both “kind of” worked, I just stuck with them, purposely ignoring the label. I didn’t know what else to do & was tired of wasting money on products that didn’t work.

Fortunately, something magical happened to my life when I met Pinterest, it was like we were made for each other. Pinterest just gets me! Ok I’m done…..but really….Pinterest is wonderful. Anyway I started to see all of these pins about using everyday items found in your kitchen on your face & what sort of modern hippie would I be if I didn’t leap for joy at the chance to rub banana peels on my chin for 5 minutes at a time, three times a day??? **Actually I really found the banana peel thing to be massively tedious & couldn’t bring myself to do it enough to see any results. If this has worked for you, let me know. Maaaaybe I’ll give it another shot.** After trying a number of other ridiculous things….I have found a simple 3 step skin care routine that 1) WORKS for me & 2) I like enough to ACTUALLY do every night. Those are two big points people. I take no credit for this regime, so I will happily give links to the different pages where I found the info along with credit where it’s due.

At this point I feel like you can only still be reading because you’re either super excited to rub Honey on your skin or your morbid curiosity is forcing you forward so that you can gain information to mock me with later. Either way, here’s the list with links!

• 2 Ingredient Makeup Remover (I only use on my eyes): Jojoba & Vitamin E! Prior to this I used Coconut Oil which worked but had issues. It never seemed to go away, so I’d take off my mascara at night, wash my face, get up the next day & reapply make up. But I felt like my waterproof mascara would “bleed” throughout the day. I’d glance in the mirror & there would be a little bit of black under my eye, like the Oil was still at work. Jojoba oil doesn’t do that.
• Honey Face Wash – Oh yes. Pure, raw, organic unfiltered, unheated, sticky goodness. Oh yes, it does sound gross & yes, I am serious. The good news is, it’s really not gross! In the link above ‘Bohemian Kate’ explains that you do first, wet your face as usual, & then apply the honey.
  • I don’t use any more than about 3/4 a tsp on my whole face, & once it touches my wet skin it really does kind of dissolve. I rub it around real good just like a normal face wash, & then I rinse it off with coldish water. *Insert face wash ad with girl flinging tons of sparkling water on her face, somehow that’s what my counter always looks like when I’m done*
  • I have found it helpful to wear a head band (like the thick sporty cloth ones) when washing my face, it keeps my hair out of the honey & the honey out of my hair! The head band can get a little sticky but if so, I just wash it in the sink, hang it up & let it dry to use again.
  • It’s really important that you’re using raw honey, not the stuff that comes in the cheap honey bear at your local super market. ‘Bohemian Kate’ has a link in her article to another post detailing the glories & benefits of raw honey
  • No my face is NOT sticky when I’m done! It’s actually quite soft!
• 2 Ingredient Moisturizer – Coconut oil and Tea Tree Oil! As stated before, I have probs with CO messing with my eye makeup so I keep this away from my eyes, also because I can’t imagine the burn of Tea Tree in the eye *shudders in fear*. I used to moisturize with JUST CO but found that too greasy. I also have used Tea Tree in the past as a toner/astringent & it was way too drying, but a little bit of both works together wonderfully – they are antiseptic & antibacterial, will reduce redness & can dry out pimples while moisturizing! I scoop a little bit of CO into my palm with one finger(less than a tsp), add 1, single drop of Tea tree to it, then swish it around with my finger till it’s all melted & mixed. Usually that is enough for my face, neck & chest. Be mindful to not put too much on your face though, as again, that can leave your skin feeling greasy.

Ta-Da! That’s it! I’ve been using this routine for over a month & I’m noticing real improvement in my skin. I mentioned it to my hair dresser and yes, like you, she also thought it a little strange that I’m washing with honey. BUT! Skeptical as she was she did say that she had noticed my skin condition was improving before I had mentioned it to her. That is a good thing to hear from someone who has to be all up close & personal with your details.

A couple of tips –

• When you get Ketchup or jelly or honey at some restaurants or hotels they come in tiny glass jars. Keep those. Because they’re really small & cute, but ALSO because you can wash them out & reuse them! I use these to hold my eye make up remover & CO in, thus saving space in my bathroom cabinet.
• I am currently using Tropical Traditions Gold Label Coconut Oil, which is a total game changer if you ask me. It’s cray expensive, but you can save money by buying in bulk. I signed up for their newsletter & wait until they have sale prices for bulk orders, then I get people to jump in & split a 5 gallon bucket with me. It’s glorious. I may have a blog post coming up with all the ways I use CO.
• All of my Essential Oils come from DoTerra. I do not recommend using EO’s unless you know they are pure (sorry Whole Foods, HyVee and Trader Joes!). If you do not have a local EO representative who can explain the need & benefit of pure oils, or a way to purchase them, please feel free to contact Katrina Bocanegra through her DoTerra page. She’s awesome and would love to help you

Soul Mates & Snow Storms

I read a blog post today that was written by an old friend from high school. (Wait – did I just say that? “An old friend from high school?” am I old enough to make those statements??) In it she spoke of the HEART behind those who move to Southern California. She recalls the way that the sand and the ocean and the sky over both steal you away and ended with,

California, you’re my soul mate.

I read it and thought, woah, me too.

I love it, I love the food and the people, I love the perpetual sun sun sun, that’s like joy and peace resting on your skin. You close your eyes and it washes over your face – warmth and HOPE. I love all of the people who ARE Southern California to me and how they represent the essence of being received, being brought into a people and a place that are not your own and for no reason, made a part of it, brought in and given what you have not earned. I love the sand. Love the food, OH the food! The fresh fruits and avocados and Froyo and sushi and tacos just everywhere. 

The Ocean. Sand that sparkles like glitter and bare feet pressing in, leaving momentary impressions that warm you from the toes up. The sound of the unstoppable waves, the birds and the far off dolphins. There is nothing like that endless, eternal sound of the water slapping the sparkling shore, washing away the prints of the vagabonds walking in it’s currents, leaving blank canvases again and again and again.

What else can I say? California completes me. 

But then…….there is the glory of the Midwest blizzard. Here’s the thing, I adore the snow. The excitement of the impending storm and the brooding clouds hanging lower and lower until they burst forth with pure, unexplainable magic. Each droplet frozen into unique, exquisite, breathtaking flakes of the purest crystal white, taking the dark, dead landscape and covering it; transforming it. The sun rises and everything you see is new; crisp, clean, unadulterated and shining. It’s magic. Cold, frozen, sparkly magic. As a child I loved to throw myself into a giant mound of it and have to dig my way out, pausing when tired and FEELING the immense stillness, that quiet that comes with the snow, it’s like quiet down into your soul.

I love snow ice cream, making snow angels, building snowmen, staging snow ball wars, going sledding. I’m not afraid to drive in the snow and I don’t even really mind shoveling the snow. Ok, I don’t mind the IDEA of shoveling the snow, but that probably begins my problem because here’s the thing, I hate to be cold.

I’m small! There’s nothing I can do about that, and it’s like no matter how many pairs of long johns and smartwool socks I stack on, I’m just going to be cold from October to March. And the shoveling, I attack it with layered zeal, but like everything else in life, lose my steam long before the project is over. Again, I’m small! ………but have a big heart?

Yeah, that doesn’t really help. My idealism and raw excitement before each snowstorm doesn’t even compare to the deep, deep groan in my soul that comes mid-way through shoveling the driveway. And so I ask myself on a regular basis why the heck I have not moved to SoCal yet. The only answer I can really lay hold of is how much I love the 4 seasons, but with each passing year that answer is losing it’s grip. If I’m going to survive by filling up my heart with all too brief, summer San Diego visits….well, I may need to buy a snow blower.

 

Tiny Green Thread

I find myself on Sunday evenings with a few teenager girls in my living room talking. We discuss things like how to make time to be with the Lord every day, boys, honoring parents/authority & I am realizing that though the life I lived at 16 is light years different than the life that they live,  some of the battles they face are the exact same ones I fight day to day. Relevance, Spirituality, Humility, Gratefulness, Peace, Honor & Dreams. We wage the same wars. This last week we read together out of John 3 about the pain that John the Baptist fought to express to his disciples as Jesus came to John’s side of the river, taking His rightful place…..right out of the hands of His friend.

“He must increase, and I must decrease”. And anyone who’s experienced the reality of those words knows how painful & how confusing they are. When that is the only thing that you can say as a dream dies, as something you planned for goes terribly different, when all you can do is open your hands & let Him take what you so want to fight to keep. When looking up from the broken pieces of misunderstanding & having no clue what comes next….. you can choose to let His voice be your joy. 

The Friend of the Bridegroom rejoices when he hears His voice, knowing that his task is now complete. We can rejoice in His voice when we don’t know where He leads. We can rejoice in His voice when He steps in & takes all we’ve worked for. We can rejoice …….. or we can not. It’s basically that simple. We can choose to trust God when God looks the most untrustworthy, or we can not. As I spoke I watched sadness, sobriety & even fear play upon the faces of these girls who I love & I know their confusion & I know their fear. I know their hope that God would never allow their plans to go any other route than the one they are carefully dreaming. But I know my story. It’s a mess, a chaotic mess, but I believe that God still makes beauty from ashes. If there is anything I have to offer young people it is the lessons I’m slowly learning as I walk through this crazy, beautiful, ashy mess about how to put my trust in Jesus, how to believe He is good in the taking, in the breaking of dreams, in the “killing of churches” as Randy Bohlender put it (Seriously, do yourself a favor and read his book ‘Jesus killed my Church‘).

So I shared with them this story:

Last week was what looks to be, the last week of hot weather that Kansas City will be seeing in 2013. I’ve been trying to dress the girls in their cutest summer clothes knowing that the warmth was running out & that they won’t fit in these close when it’s warm again. Friday I put them in these outrageously girly white dresses, complete with layers of ruffled, sequined green detail with on giant green, sparkly flower on the shoulder. As I pulled the outfits from the closet I considered that I may spend the entire day trying to keep the sequins out of their mouths, but it’s the most impractical baby clothes that are too cute to resist.

Hours later after a day of fusses, fits, multiple time outs & a refused nap I tiredly paced the living room with Baby 2 in my aching arms. She hits a point of frustration that only quiets if you hold her & responds with LOUD outrage when put down, which at that point, I did. I too was tired, frustrated & cranky. Out of desperation I collapsed on the couch, setting her at my feet to which she responded with heartfelt wailing. 

I buried my face in my hands, prepping for some minutes of loud protesting which began & instantly stopped. I quickly looked up to make sure she wasn’t hurt. She sat peering intently at the layers of ruffle & sequin piled around her. For some time she sat still,  until slowly with one finger she reached down towards the bottom of her dress. Somewhere among the multiple layers of cloth, on one single hemline, almost completely hidden by a bajillion sparkles there was one tiny piece of thread poking off the dress.

By tiny I mean less than a quarter of an inch. It was the exact same color as the rest green on the dress. It was IMPOSSIBLE for the baby to have seen it, but she did. With wonder she lightly touched it over & over with the tip of one finger. I released my pent up emotions in a long sigh and said “Baby, you pay such attention to detail.”

And in my spirit I heard the Lord say “I pay attention to the details.”

It’s funny how quickly you can find yourself in tears. Ok maybe not you, and maybe it’s not even funny because everyone knows I’m a deeply emotional little creature, but it was just like that. From frustrated & hard to Instantly tender heart, instantly teary eyes, instant affirmation that I am SEEN & KNOWN & so cared for. For the next few days I heard it like a gentle echo inside ” I pay attention to the details”, as the moments of my day slipped by. Moments that I didn’t think mattered, choices that I didn’t think matter, responses that I didn’t think mattered just suddenly did. You’re much more aware when you know that you are seen. 

The problems aren’t solved, the questions aren’t necessarily answered but there is real comfort in trusting God enough to let go and give Him what matters when you know that He see’s.