Just For Fun

Here is a very basic review of some of the books I managed to read and remember that I read in 2015.  I like to read but I'm not a serious reader; a serious reader will recognize that by the books I've read.  But I do try and sneak in a book for fun as much as I can--a few pages at a time--between my responsibilities and sleep. I also thoroughly enjoy hearing what my friends have read and thought maybe it would be fun to try and recall what I read this past year too.   Here they are-such as they are:

Always fun to read and reliably put me in a good mood: The Minor Adjustment Beauty Salon by Alexander McCall Smith

Most entertaining and unveiled a surprising desire to go to Antarctica: Where'd Ya Go Bernadette by Maria Semple

One that I'm trying hard to like and finish (I have a hard time with her style.): Come Rain or Come Shine by Jan Karon

One that I enjoyed reading to Micah: Ramona the Pest by Beverly Cleary

One that was about a favorite author BY that same author--I really love autobiographies:  A Girl From Yamhill by Beverly Cleary

One that helped me pass the creepingly slow time while my child recuperated in the hospital: And the Good News Is by Dana Perino

One about someone I admire by someone I admire:  41 by GW Bush

One that was trashy and lacked plot and was a general disappointment--don't waste your money even if it is at Costco and you are on vacation and need something to read really badly:  Last Kind Words Saloon  by Larry McMurtry

Creepier than I normally go and still makes me nervous about my closet when I think about it:  The Winter People by Jennifer McMahon

Confusing, exciting, and for younger people than I am, but I really do like this series that my kids got me started on:  Lemony Snicket's  "Shouldn't You Be In School?"  

Both educational and moving:  Seeking Allah, Finding Jesus by Nebeel Qureshi

Encouraging and moving: Prodigals and Those Who Love Them by Ruth Bell Graham

Number 1 book that I read this past year and would encourage someone else to read?  Son of Hamas by Mosab Hassan Yousef

One that I'm reading now and have wanted to for some time (thanks for the Christmas present, Honey!):  North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell.

Devotionals: Streams in the Desert by LB Cowman and Not by Sight by Jon Bloom (Thanks, Amber! I'm lovin' it!)

A  few in my stack for this winter: 

 She Is Mine by Stephanie Fast

Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard

The River by Michael Neale

Mary Barton by Elizabeth Gaskell

The Photograph by Beverly Lewis 

   

Memories of Mom (from her baby)

Today would have been her 82nd birthday.  Here is what I wrote for her memorial to be read along with other people's memories of her:

It's almost impossible for me to separate my memories of my mom from those of my dad.  They were a team.  And she saw her role as one of support to his ministry.  My dad depended on her insight in ministry and her ability to run a house and her loyalty to him.   And she was faithful to both my dad and the Lord. They delighted in serving the Lord together wherever He led them.

 My mom often lived in houses not of her choosing but always made them into a home for her family.  There was a little house on a muddy dairy farm and the big nice house on the (Willamette) river.  There was even the time when she had to live IN the church, and my first home with her, across the parking lot here (Elm Street Baptist Church)...

My mom was a great cook.  Despite the lack of resources, she always managed to put a beautiful meal on the table.  Who can forget her fried chicken, potato salad and homemade rolls?  She had the ability to take whatever few ingredients she had on hand to make something tasty and nourishing.

My mom was generally quiet but had firm beliefs about what was right and wrong behavior and wasn't afraid to express it.  You wouldn't DARE back talk her.  If so, you'd end up regretting it--usually with the flavor of soap residue in your mouth.  She once told an armed stranger who barged in on her church camp cabin full of girls to put his gun away.  And then there was the time she confronted a male hanging out in the women's restroom (at night) at a campground to "get out".  He actually complied--with an apology.  (You didn't mess with my mom.)   I still remember her yelling across the post office parking lot at a crazed, angry old man who was harassing me outside our car.  She was never shy about using paint paddles or wooden spoons or an old belt to instruct her children either.  (Even on me, despite what my brothers and sister may tell you.)  She prayed aloud over JW's in our home--even blocked the door so she could finish the prayer.  She was my dad's biggest fan and also his most loyal critic. (And Heaven help him if he wrinkled his suit jacket!)

With all of her duties of life, the first thing you would notice in her home in the morning, was the smell of coffee, and her curled in her chair with her Bible opened in front of her.  She tried to please the Lord in all respects and instructed us that this was the most important thing.

She was an encourager, supporter, and gift-giver to her family.  She loved us and adored her grandchildren and great-grandchildren.    While much of what defined her daily life slowly faded with her capabilities, her work endures.  She showed us that rewards are not of this world.  That God provides.  That her family was special.  That marriage was sacred.  That Scripture is powerful.  That prayers are answered.  That books should be read.  That music is necessary.  That to be friendly is better than to be popular.  That underwear really is a Christmas gift.  That jello is a food group.  That sharing is joyful.  That back-talk tastes awful.  That furniture doesn't have to be the latest thing.  That beauty is in relationships.  That you eat "what is put before you".  That you really DON"T need a meal on Sunday nights.  That you dust where no one will look. That sacrifice can be in the very practical details.  That your home is where your family is.  That God is good  and trustworthy.

Remembered ~ Part One

I first saw him when he was 2 days old, lying in a hospital bassinet.   He was tiny and bundled, this answer to prayer.   He was being kept out in the hall near the nurses so they could keep an eye on him.  I only saw him from a distance at first.  I could see the tiny, dark head peeking out.  I wasn't even sure if he was the one, but I was pretty sure.  We took a few steps closer only to have the lawyer's phone ring.  It was the birth mom and she wanted us to wait to see him until she could be there.  Our meeting would have to wait.

 My 41st birthday was weepy.   I felt forgotten.  Not forgotten by family and friends --they were wonderful as usual.  I felt forgotten by God. Overlooked by birth moms.  Stupid for trying.  Waiting and beginning to waver on our decision to adopt again.  We were almost to the one year mark where we needed to renew our home study in order to go on.  Since we already had 5 children and were OLD,  it was already iffy that we would get another call and it had now been nearly a year with our profile out there being viewed.  After what felt like a year of rejection I had begun to question whether or not this was really God's plan for us.  Was adoption completely a wrong move for us?  Or were we merely in the wrong program?   I had begun to spend time researching other programs and inquiring how to get on board with state adoptions and even inquiring after specific children in both state and international programs.   But those doors also closed each time.  We had just decided that we would attend the next class needed to begin the state adoption process if nothing happened in the next week in our private domestic program.  We needed the time to psych ourselves up for it.  It takes a lot of energy mentally to devote yourself to a program--jumping through hoops, education, paperwork and time.  Time.  I honestly wanted what God wanted for our family but just didn't have a clue what that was.  Our just-turned-five-year-old had been praying everyday for the past year and a half for a baby.  He wanted one that looked like him--with the same beautiful dark skin, same curly black hair.  Oh, these prayers can be heart breaking.  If it weren't for these prayers, I would have given up.  But God had heard.  He hadn't forgotten.  Where my human heart was moved by my child, His must have been even more deeply. He had planned all along that we would get our answer 3 days after my birthday.

A little over a week earlier, on Wednesday, March 12th of 2014 we received an email from our agency with a birth mother profile attached for us to review.  We read it and weren't at all comfortable with their requests.  They wanted a very open adoption with phone calls, emails, and possible visits.  We said "no" based on many reasons having to do with discomfort, fear, and uncertainty, but primarily because our older adopted son didn't have this arrangement with his birth family.   Our program director decided to be bold and gave us some things to consider and asked us to rethink it.   She made some good points like: no two adoptions are the same, no two children are the same, nothing is ever totally equal, etc.  So we took a step back, took a deep breath and told her we would like our profile shown after all.   I wasn't too worried.  After all, no one had chosen us yet.  Part of me felt like this was just an exercise we went through every week or so before we received the rejection.  But the other part (mainly the Ryan part) knew that God was in control and if He wanted us to have this baby, He would oversee and protect.

The week passed with no word.  I wasn't even sure what I wanted to happen.  But I did know that God would perfectly direct our lives.  And at the same time I wondered what that looked like.  Of course my birthday came with all of the weepiness and doubt, but I lived through that somehow and was starting to feel a bit better about letting go of the "whens?" and "what ifs?" and embrace a new adoption program. I was letting go of the baby dream.

It was the Friday before spring break.  I had just gotten out of the shower and was getting ready for the day which included a much anticipated play date for Micah.   The phone rang and it was Ryan.  He could barely talk because he was choked with emotion.  "Our baby is being born right now."   I was confused.  It sounded like he said our baby was being born right now.  I questioned.  He clarified.  Our baby was being born right now and we needed to get ourselves to Florida.

 It's hard to describe the rush of emotions at that point.  Your prayers have been answered.  Boom.  You go from being cautiously hopeful to a new mindset of "We have a baby right now!!" in a matter of seconds.  Ryan and I were separated by distance and duties at that moment.  It is a weird feeling: that you suddenly have to arrange care for your children, care for an elderly mother, food to purchase for the ones who would stay at home, clothing to pack for some of them, tickets to buy, cars to rent, hotels to book, baby things to buy, notes to write to teachers, people to call, and a loan to arrange.  Did I mention it was the Friday before spring break?? But at the same time you have life carrying on.  Your husband is  an hour away at work.  Your older kids are at school.  You had a playdate arranged at your house in a couple of hours.  And you have no idea where to start.

After texting my high schoolers: "We have a baby boy!"   And messaging friends that had been praying about our good news, I turned my thoughts to my day.  I briefly considered cancelling the playdate but logic and love won out.  I knew that if we didn't do it now, it would be months before I would even consider rescheduling.  Plus, my five year old would be heart broken and I would be going away, leaving him heart broken.  So, we left that plan in place.   And it kind of worked for me to ignore the reality for a bit as my friends hung out while I folded clothes and and the kids played.  My friend Jennifer had a Costco run to make later, so she offered to bring me food for my kids who would be staying at home.  She also bought diapers and wipes and a few little outfits as a sweet gift to get me started.   My father-in-law handled the travel agent and arrangements.  My sister-in-law would take my days at my mom's. Ryan was getting things wrapped up at work.  I was packing.  Things would be OK.  But at that moment, what we hadn't worked out were the details of that Open Adoption.  We were totally unprepared.

  

A Beautiful, Tacky Story

Today was a beautiful day and I want to tell you a beautiful story.  It's about money.   I once read Barbara Bush's memoirs and she said it was very tacky to talk about money.  No one wants to hear about it.  It makes everyone uncomfortable.  Well, Barbara must not have read very many missionary biographies, because some of the best stories involve money.  The lack thereof and the prayers for provision, etc and the miraculous answers.  So, I guess this isn't really about money.  It's about God and His faithfulness and how He takes care of His children.  I hope you will excuse me as I get tacky.

I was raised by loving, wonderful parents who gave their lives to full time ministry.  My dad was a pastor--always small churches and many in small, rural communities--a couple of them were church plants from scratch.  He accepted the call, ready to serve the Lord wholeheartedly and did.

 All of the churches were struggling financially.  Many of them he had to take a second job to pay the bills which was always a challenge.  I remember my parents having garage sales at the strangest times to come up with extra cash for something, and the sales were preceded by prayer for God to sell certain items--sometimes because the items were ridiculous and wouldn't sell without Divine intervention and sometimes just because we needed the particular amount that item would bring.   Another time, my parents were out of money and saw that a truck full of meat had spilled on the highway.  They were pretty excited until they realized it had been headed for the dog food plant.  My mom once went without a new coat for 20 years.   I remember because she cried the day that particular streak was broken.  Anyway, there's a few examples for you. You get the picture.

Because of their finances they weren't able to own their own home.....until they were in their mid-fifties. My grandparents gifted my mom with a chunk of cash to help with a down payment, and the seller privately loaned my parents the part the bank wouldn't.  We were all over-joyed to have that modest and wonderful home provided for us.  When they were nearing their 70's and went to sell that home to move on to their new and final church ministry,  the market had increased significantly, and they were able to buy their new home outright.  The only problem was that Dad had to pay for a new roof on the old home and was going to take a small loan to do it.  But he won a contest at a car dealership instead--for the exact amount needed to pay for that roof.  Unbelievable.

Fast forward about 10 years.  My dad passed away about 2 years after that move, leaving my mom with a home and a small pension from his years of driving school bus that he did to supplement his pastoral income.  Meanwhile, Ryan and I had adopted a little baby boy in 2009.  We had had financial struggles of our own for different reasons--nothing like my parents had, but real ones nonetheless.  But for some reason God laid it on our hearts to dream and pray for a child through adoption.  We had no idea how we would pay for the adoption, but when the time came, and we got the call that we had a baby to pick up in 5 days, God provided a private loan for us at literally the last moment.  Eventually, by His grace, we were able to pay it back.  In 2013, we decided to pursue adoption again.  Once again we wondered how we would pay for it.  It would cost twice as much this time around, and it was scary.  But we looked back at God's faithfulness in 2009 when we were in ridiculous financial shape, and we remembered that He DID provide.  We knew He would this time too, so we moved forward trusting Him.  We got our call for our beautiful baby last March.

Today, my Friends.  Today I paid off that loan taken out less than a year ago.  I didn't think that would even be possible at the time.  And do you know where that money came from?  It came from my parents.

 My mom died in early November leaving that paid-for-house to my siblings and I.  It sold right away.  We each received a portion.  Not in my wildest dreams did I think my parents would fund our adoption.  But God is GOOD.  He is GOOD to those who put their lives in His hands.  (And I'm speaking of my parents here.)  He is not unjust to forget your work and the love you have shown towards His name.   "Give, and it will be given to you. They will pour into your lap a good measure-- pressed down, shaken together, and running over. For by your standard of measure it will be measured to you in return."

When I realized that we would get this money, I felt guilty at first.  I felt that it was sad that my parents had sacrificed so long and hard and I was the one going to benefit.  But then I realized that by some crazy miracle my dad was going to be demonstrating Proverbs 13:22....and Hebrews 6:10, and Luke 6:38 and more.  And really, it isn't my dad or mom demonstrating this, it is God demonstrating that His Word is true.  That He is faithful.  That He is generous. That He cares for His children.  

And then I realized that I was foolish. That, yes, I would enjoy their earthly gift to me, but they were right at this very moment, enjoying eternal, heavenly rewards and the presence of their faithful God which is far greater. 

My parents would be radiant to think they had some part in bringing a new life into their family.  I can hear my dad's laugh in amazement and see the sparkles in their eyes to think that God had done this in this particular way.  My mom got to meet and know and enjoy Zechariah before she died, and I know that this would have pleased her to no end.

When Ryan and I were first looking into adoption, we were in some of the worst financial shape we had ever been in, but I read somewhere then ( and I wish I could remember where to give credit) someone saying that we shouldn't let finances keep us from adoption because "God cares for the orphan in a special way and HE will provide the ransom."   My parents would say the same thing about giving up things to serve the Lord--that God provides--that He is worth serving.   I have learned this to be true.  I have seen with my own eyes the faithfulness of God.