Undaunted

un·daunt·ed/ˌənˈdôntid/

Adjective: Not intimidated or discouraged by difficulty, danger, or disappointment. 

"It takes Almighty grace to take the next step when there is no vision and no spectator - 
the next step in devotion, the next step in your study, in your reading, in your kitchen;
the next step in your duty...
  It takes far more of the grace of God, far more conscious drawing upon God to take that step, than it does to preach the  Gospel."

"Every Christian has to partake of what was the essence of the Incarnation, he must bring the thing down into flesh and blood actualities and work it out through the finger tips.  "

"We flag when there is no vision, no uplift, but just the common round, the trivial task.  

The thing that tells in the long run for God and for men is the steady persevering work in the unseen, and the only way to keep the life uncrushed is to live looking to God.  "

"Ask God to keep the eyes of your spirit open to the Risen Christ, and it will be impossible for drudgery to damp you. "


"Drudgery is one of the finest touchstones of character there is.  Drudgery is work that is very far removed from anything to do with ideal- the utterly mean grubby things; and when we come in contact with them we know instantly whether or not we are spiritually real.  


"Undaunted radiance is not built on anything passing, but on the love of God that nothing can alter"
Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

Craving Spring

This is what my house looks like most of the time.

I forgot how much mess a toddler makes.  All the big obnoxious toddler toys have been pulled out of storage in an attempt to keep little miss destruction happily entertained.

  We have baby toys, toddler toys, big kid toys, school books, craft stuff, Barbies,  and legos strewn about various locations in our home.  The trick lately is to keep the big kid little toys out of the mouth of our human vacuum.   I've actually seen Miss Cece crawl along the floor slowing down only slightly in order to lick a tasty morsel  up off of the floor.  She's such an efficient floor cleaner she barely even breaks stride.

Only a few months ago I ALWAYS had things tidied up by bed time.  Everyone is expected to clean up their mess.  Unfortunately the biggest mess maker is incapable of tidying up. 

Lately I have actually resorted to kicking a path through the toys on my way to bed.

Justifying that they'll all be out again first thing in the morning anyway.

Because a mom can only survive this sort of mess and noise for so long...

play time moves outside at some point. 

It's still cold.  Really cold.

As you can see we are many weeks,  a lot of puddles and a yard full of mud away from spring tulips.

Oh, green grass how I miss you.

 The snow is beautiful  in it's own way but after several months my eyes crave color. 

My lungs crave fresh air that doesn't make tiny icicles in my nostrils.  

My cracked skin craves humidity.

My mind craves children who play outside for more than 20 minutes at a time.

 Irony.

This is the trailer that we were living in all last winter.

Parked in the Mexican sun.

The trailer that we park at a lake and make summer memories in.

Got hot chocolate? 

In hind sight

I'm reminiscing and thanking God for all that we experienced while we were in Baja last winter. I think  it has taken time to fully appreciate what we had the privilege to be a part of. Now that we have been home nearly a year  it has really sunk in how much we  were blessed as a family.  It was so easy to take it for granted while we were in the middle of all our daily routines and work.  

A year ago today our kids clothes were faded and worn from months of use and hanging to dry in the desert sun.

Spring was making it's subtle appearance with new leaves and orange blossoms.

The weather warmed and our fleece sweaters were stored away under the bed in our trailer. 

My children's hair was sun bleached white and their cheeks were a permanent shade of pink.

We knew our time was coming to an end and we were making the most of every day.

We attended the annual "tea party"when all the little girls at the orphanage dressed up for a very special afternoon.  They were each treated like princesses and served tea and sweets  in a fairy tale setting.

We said a lot of goodbyes...and see you soon's to children and friends who mean so much to us.

I'm so thankful and humbled by what God did in us during that short time.

The impact we made there was so small in comparison. 

My children learned to see the beauty diversity.   They learned to see past a disability and see the person. 

They learned to be comfortable with those differences. 

They learned how to make friends even though they barely spoke the language and they were very visibly different than their peers.  

 They have empathy for others who struggle with English or come from a different culture.
They know how it feels.
They don't take things like a house, a bed, or a full belly for granted.

They have had close friends who had none of those.

We pulled our kids out of school and drove them across two borders into a country considered "unsafe".  We neglected to sign them up for sports teams and music lessons.   We removed them from everything familiar, safe and comfortable.   

At a very impressionable age no less.

The impression left by that recklessness has been great.

Letting them experience a world that includes children who sleep in dirt and babies left in garbage dumps,

allowing them to struggle, to give, to work, to see for themselves what a big God we serve

changed them.

It changed the people they will become.

We learned that God can take whatever we have to offer and use it in His work and for His glory.

I learned that what we think we have to offer may not be what he wants from us. 

I learned some lessons the hard way.

I was humbled and challenged.

We discovered first hand how faithful God is.  

We stepped out in faith, took a risk, and he was with us every step of the way.

We had the privilege of serving and loving alongside others who spend their lives for something bigger than themselves.

We were inspired and humbled by the passion, faith, and tenacity of our Mexican brothers and sisters.

We discovered that even a small investment of love into someone else's life may have eternal impact.

Only God can turn something that seems so insignificant at the time  into something worthy of his name.

He showed me that family ,at it's best, extends beyond the walls of my house and beyond my own blood line.

Is it any wonder I feel like I'm living with half our heart somewhere else?
I don't want to live in the past or feel discontent with where we are in the present.  What I do want to do is  thank God for it, learn from it, and use it to inspire our future.
What does God have for our family next?
I have no idea.
Right now we are trudging through the world of foster adoption and loving every minute of our newest little treasure.
We know that God's work in us and through us is always changing, always new,
and usually what we don't expect.

when you're stuck inside

When you're stuck inside and every one is going bonkers,

it helps to shake things up a bit.

Sometimes.

Sometimes you just have to maintain a shred of sanity and pray that the cold snap starts to warm up and the kids can play outside.  

By cold snap I'm not talking about a Pacific Northwest "artic blast" of gently falling wet snow flakes, cancelled school, and all the kids grabbing sleds.  

 I'm referring to wind chill temperatures of -50 degrees Celsius,  exposed skin freezing in under 10 minutes.

Most of my readers will likely have no reference point to understand that kind of cold.

Ask the person sitting next to you to slap you on the face.

That is the air when you walk outside your  door.

Admittedly I am a wimp.

Our car won't start unless it has a block heater that has been plugged in with a stiff frozen extension cord.

Then it needs to run for 15 minutes before  we attempt to drive it. 

In the time it takes to maneuver multiple children into a vehicle frost bite has set in and I wonder why we ever left the house.   

(Although the walls of the house are closing in on me staying home starts to seem like a better option)

The roads are covered in snow.  The highway is slick and drifting.

The car heater has a hard time keeping up.

Another reason we've become hermits is that the price of gas is ridiculous right now ...and the closest town is 40 km away.  It's up to $1.30 / liter (for my American friends there is 4 liters in a gallon).  

In an attempt to add some excitement to our week we decided to "go camping".

I am realizing more and more that we are family that thrives on some sort of  adventure, a little danger and  sense of purpose.  

Roman being the most extreme example among us.   Although I now see how we are all wired that way to an extent.

We are passionate, slightly impulsive, big dream kind of people....stuck camping in a basement.

At the same time we are a family that does enjoy a lot of at home, chilled out family time. It's a balance that is slightly tipped to the extreme right now. 

The following are a few quotes that make me laugh from the "How to train your dragon" movie.

 "You, sir, are playing a dangerous game! Keeping this much raw viking-ness contained! There will be consequences! "  (we've got a house full of raw-viking-ness about to burst)

Ever wonder what Saskatchewan is like?

 

"It snows nine months out of the year, and hails the other three. What little food grows here

 is tough and tasteless. The people that grow here, even more so. "

Where on Earth is Saskachewan anyway?!

"It's twelve days north of Hopeless and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death. It's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery. My village.....Most people would leave, but not us. We're Vikings. We have stubbornness issues."

In all fairness, if you overlook the mosquito hoards in the summer and the Artic misery in the winter it is a wonderful place to work and raise a family.  Honestly.  Seriously, the economy here is booming and the people aren't totally tasteless....

We set up tents in our living rooms to entertain our children.

At least there's always family game time to look forward too.

The time when Daddy takes over and mom (the non-gamer of the family) does dinner dishes.

UPDATE:    I am pleased to announce that today  is a gorgeous sunny, down right balmy day.  

 The eaves of the house are dripping with melting snow as the temperature soars  to -5 degrees Celcius. 

To add to my excitement I actually wore make up and left my house! 

A trip to town, church and Walmart all in one morning! (we pack it all in to one trip). 

We attended a wonderfully refreshing worship service and came home to kick the kids outside to play.

Life is good.

I'm holding a giant mug of coffee.  

It doesn't take much to convince me we might survive until spring.  

We just need to survive next weeks cold blustery forecast.

Just because

Posting this 

just because this girl puts a smile on my face all day long.

Laughing at her is one of my favorite hobbies.

Big sister has become quite the little baker.

Although we are still sorting out the whole tsp. vs. tbsp thing.

Details.

She'd prefer to exercise creative freedom.  

A little of this a little extra of that.

Silas just likes the butter and sugar.

Disdains real food but could eat margarine by the spoonful.  

The only thing more frightening than children taking over the kitchen is

 computer hijackers with horrible spelling and grammar that

 threaten to "break your life."

...or just my computer.  Which may or may not be my life.

In other news.

We are still in the grip of  winter.

sigh.

Fortunately my boy is proficient at bringing in firewood, building a fire each morning and keeping it going all day.

I hate being cold.   I am hibernating next to the fireplace until further notice.

When it's safe to leave my house again I'm moving to a tropical island.  

Out of desperation, and because the mail hadn't been picked up all week, I sent Roman on a journey across town to retrieve it  in -30 degree weather.  

He loves it when I give him big kid responsibilities.

School work on the other hand...not so in love with.

It's Friday tomorrow.  

It's been a long week.  Since my last honest bad attitude post I decided I needed to stop wallowing on the computer and get some stuff done.

I have been supermom this week.  Being a supermom makes me tired. 

 Tired but happy I put in the effort.
I even caught up on correcting school work.  I sat with Aili each evening (once the other kids were in bed) going over and helping to correct every math mistake.
Now that is love.
Or a really annoying mom.
Oh well, I'm sure I made up for it with the homemade pizza and popcorn we had for supper.

My new goal is to spend quality one on one time with each of my 4 kids everyday.
That sounds kind of pathetic. Being surrounded by them all day doesn't necessarily mean I'm taking the time to enjoy  intentional moments of sweetness with them.
Getting one of them alone for something other than a phonics lesson takes effort.

We didn't do a "break" this week.

I'm saving time off of school work for when the weather is nice enough to enjoy it.

For now we are hunkered down plugging away in hopes of getting through our curriculum by June.

I think we may need a "Friday fun day" tomorrow.

Silas has been begging to go camping....

We might just have to do that.

weary

Sometimes I feel like I need a break from my life.   Sometime I would even like to have a break from being me.  Maybe try being someone more competent and confidant for a day.

Meeting the  needs of every person in my household drains me.

There is always a diaper to change,
a nose to wipe,
a child to read with,
a child who needs correction or discipline,
a meal to make,
long division to re-teach.....

This time of year our life slows down a bit, we hibernate a little more, and our calender is intentionally less full.
There is no yard work to do and no garden to tend.
My husband is home slightly longer in the morning and is home most every evening.
Our days are flexible and fairly relaxed.
I'm not sure why I'm feeling as overwhelmed as I do.  This is our "down season"...if there is such a thing.
The lull before the spring rush.
Maybe it's a bit of cabin fever.

I wake up with the fear that this will be the day it will all fall apart,
That everything we are working for will be ruined.
Lately, I feel like I'm straining, pulling and dragging a big wagon alone.
I can't shake that feeling that eventually this wagon will become stuck and I'll just sit there in the mud defeated.   We'll be swamped in a land of dysfunction forever.    If only we were free of the ruts that threaten to drag us off course.  

My blog is a whole big mix of everything.   A journal of me trying to figure out life as it is.
Sometimes that's funny, sometimes it's sad,  often it's random thoughts and dreams that make sense to only me.
It is always real.  Maybe to a fault.
Part of me would like to paint  an image and pretend we are a perfect family.
I could look like an expert on anything life throws my way.
I could blog about my immaculate house, my children learning Latin, my crafting skills, and the gourmet recipes I am cooking.  I could capture it all with my photographic prowess.
I would appear to juggle it all with style and swagger.
Sometimes I want to be her.

Maybe to some I come across that way.
Maybe I come across as a lunatic.
I don't know how me or my candid life is perceived ...but I'm just me.

One thing I despise in life is phoniness (in case you haven't noticed by my many rants about it).  I have personally known too many people and families who appeared to have it all together but were tragically broken underneath the image.   Eventually it all comes crashing down around them as they desperately try to hold up a smoke screen to hide the carnage.

No, I don't share everything that is going on in my life.   I use discretion but I am honest in what I write.


My toilets are dirty.  There are dishes in my sink.  I have no idea what I am going to feed my tribe for lunch.  Chances are one of them will refuse to eat it anyway.  My bible is laying on my book shelf untouched for days on end.   I worry that my kids aren't learning what they need to learn.  I fear that I will fail and my own selfishness or laziness will ruin them.  I am prone to forget how blessed I am.

This morning my attempt to ask for help was reduced to yelling at my kids and disrespecting my husband.
I'm that cool.

The truth is I'm not an expert on anything.   I am mucking through doing the best I can with what I have, and with who I am.   I live in an ADD filled household.  It is an exhausting, unpredictable, emotional, and extreme place to be.    Sometimes we thrive and sometimes we barely survive.  I think monotony is wreaking havoc at the moment.

I don't have life, parenting, marriage, or anything figured out and I don't pretend that I do.
I have learned a few things along the way and if my sharing those things helps someone else keep moving forward than I am thankful for that.  I give God the glory.  Maybe my shortcomings will also resonate with someone and we can keep on trudging through together.

I'm just a broken, chipped vessel that wants to be filled and poured out.
Too often I pour out but forget to be re-filled.
Then I am just empty.
I fill myself with things that don't satisfy, and then get grumpy when people want more from me than I have to give.

I had really planned on doing a cute or funny post next.   After a few heavier posts I figured it was time to keep it balanced with some fun and fluff.   This isn't that post.  Sorry.

Next time.
Or maybe you'll just get pictures of baskets full of laundry and a toy strewn living room....or maybe of  4 year old who refuses to eat every meal he is served (actually pictures of Silas gagging and storing  food in his cheeks instead of swallowing it might be entertaining...when you're not the one who made the meal.)  ;)

Unwanted

I came across a blog "ticker" recently counting the women and babies victimized by abortions.  As much as I don't really care for cliche bumper sticker type advertisements for causes  this one caused me to stop and think for a minute.
So often we become so immune to reality.  We pick our "causes", what we stand for and what we don't, and we close our eyes to everything else.  Sometimes we wear those like a badge, and identify ourselves by them.
We are "pro", or  "anti" we are advocates for one thing or another.  We consider ourselves activists if we put a cheesy bumper sticker on our cars or copy and paste a button or ticker onto our website.

Numbers mean very little to us.   Big deal. Tens of thousands of children will die of starvation and preventable disease today.  So what?  My kids have plenty to eat.    Abortion kills more than 46,000,000 children each year.  Oh well.  They weren't wanted anyway. They weren't really human.  They would have just been a burden to society.

It's easy to appease our consciences with rationalization.

It's easy to have no conscience at all.

Right now I'm glancing over at my little girl sitting in her highchair gobbling up pieces of zuchinni bread.   Her hair is a mess of wild unruly curls.  Her dark brown eyes captivate me.   Her flirting joyful smile puts a smile on my own face.   My heart is so filled with love for this girl that sometimes I think it might burst.  She explores, smooches, plays and giggles her way through each day.

Just one glance at this girl and all our justifications are exposed for the lies that they are.

The reality is,
not too long ago she was an unwanted, unplanned for "fetus".
She is a statistic.   A result of a broken society and a hurting people.   She is the "burden on society" we desire to extinguish.  She was the inconvenience to someones lifestyle.  She was the human "weed" that the founder of Planned Parenthood, and her eugenics ideology sought to extinguish.  Born poor, diseased, a racial minority, and budding out of a family tree riddled with pain and crime.  She was what justifies the abortion industry in the eyes of our society.

I look at my beautiful daughter...
and suddenly those numbers on the ticker have a face.

By all  secular reason, logic, and rationalization she never should have been born.

Sadly, I have never met her birth mother.  I pray that someday I will.   I want to thank her.  I want to love her as the woman who gave life to my child...the one who gave her gorgeous eyes.

I don't know if this pregnancy was continued  intentionally or if our girl was born by default, but I know there are a lot of people in the world who would insist that it should have been ended.  One more child murdered by choice.  One more problem solved.

I understand that this world is complicated.  So many issues.  So many root causes.  Generations of brokenness, addictions, and hurt.
A culture that values selfishness and convenience over life.
There are no easy solutions.  So many babies abandoned, neglected or destroyed by the addictions of their mother before they are ever born.   It is a problem.
I don't pretend to have all the answers...

but I know the One who does.
His purposes cannot be silenced.


I grieve for what my daughter was exposed to before she ever took her first breath.
I don't hate her biological mother for it.

I am sad for her mother, for all that she has lost.
My heart breaks for her as another human being, as a mother who has lost a child.
What road has she travelled to take her to that place?

Orphans are easier to ignore before you look into their eyes and know their names.   Unwanted, abused, and abandoned children are easier to cast aside to be dealt with by government programs before they turn your world upside down.  "Unwanted" babies are easier to silence  before they take their first breath and look you in the eyes.

Holding a sign or a flaunting a bumper sticker is all fine and good but....
where are the homes and the hearts waiting to embrace the unprepared frightened mother and the "unwanted" baby?

It's easier to condemn, justify  and overlook.

Although no one in this world was fighting for our precious Miss Cece while she was in her mothers womb. God was knitting her together for a purpose.
He was protecting her little body and mind.
He was drawing her out of the wreckage for his glory.
If only to give us a glimpse of his heart.


The truth is she was never unwanted.  There wasn't a moment of her existence that she was unloved or unknown by the one who gave her life.

"A nation that kills it's own children is a Nation without hope"  Pope John Paul II