A letter to my daugther

Dear Precious Daughter,

There are a few things that I want you to know before the pressures of the world become more intense, and the each decision you make carries with it greater weights of significance.

First I want you to know how much you are loved. You are very much appreciated.  Nothing you can do, or don't do, will ever take away from or add to that love.  Nothing you ever do, or fail to do, will ever lesson your position as our daughter, or take that from you.  This is not a new sort of love, in fact it is the unconditional love we have been given, but unlike the Lord we will fail to perfectly, sacrificially show that to you in a consistent manner.  Which brings me to my second point.

Your parents are sinners, and regular screw-ups.  It's true, and it comes as absolutely no surprise to you.  We don't have this parenting thing all figured out. The fact that you are the oldest, may mean that you have bore the brunt of most of our trial and error parenting strategies.  We are resting in God's mercy, and Christ's righteousness alone, because we know that's the only place we can lay that burden of frequent failure down.  We get selfish, we sometimes fail to love you well, and sometimes we hurt you without even knowing it. We are but a dim reflection of the love that God has for you.  For all those times, I'm so very sorry.  I pray that, even in my limited role, I might help point you toward the One who will never fail you.

Despite all I still have to learn, I have learned a few things along the way (usually the hard way) that I want to share with you. Some of these things won't apply for a while, and some might be on your heart already.  I know we will continue to talk about, and fill these sorts of topics out more fully, as the years continue.

The first thing that comes to mind is this...
People pleasing is much less about serving and loving others, than it is about loving and serving yourself. That may sounds strange since a people pleaser always seems to be giving, doing, and even sacrificing.  The different between that and genuine love is the motive, the expectation that people will like you, value you, or make you feel better about yourself if you keep them happy. It's a tempting trap to fall into, but it is incredibly destructive. The driving focus is still self, regardless of apparent selfless actions. Living a life fully surrendered and obedient to God may gain you the responsibility of influence and the respect of some people, but it will also earn you some enemies and the criticism of many.  You will not be able to please everyone, nor should you try.  How you present yourself, and your reputation does absolutely matter...but it can't be what drives you, or keeps you shackled in fear.  Fear of man is crippling.  People pleasing is nothing but fear of man coated in service. We are told to fear God, not man.  So give, without expecting gratitude.  Be courageous enough to lovingly stand for truth and enter into conflict when necessary, but ground it in humility and prayer.  Give to people who cannot repay you.  Love sacrificially, without any guarantees of a return on your investments.  Show kindness, when kindness has not been, and may never be extended.  Be gracious in the face of hostility.  Forgive, even when an apology will never come.

Think about yourself less.
I'm not suggesting you specifically think about yourself too much, or more than any other adolescent girl, but some girls spend their whole lives trying to prove their worth, earn someone's love, or work for the praise and admiration of others. Your identity cannot be secured in something as fleeting as beauty, popularity, designer duds, good grades, or perceived desirability.  Your worth  is not earned through College degrees, a high powered career, a successful ministry, a small jean size, or the number of children you bear.  The only place you can secure your identity to is the finished work of Jesus. You are fearfully and wonderfully made, you are saved by God's grace alone, and  you can rest secure in that.  That is your anchor, while living in a whirl pool of idolatry.

Truly understanding the gospel and letting it sink deep into your heart, to the point that it marks every area of your life,  leaves you nothing left to prove, it leaves you no other love to seek, it leaves no greater treasure to be pursued.  That, my precious one, is true freedom.  So, don't buy into the lie that says you must look out for "number one", or "find yourself" by looking inward, or conform to societies expectations of you.   When you know how perfectly you are already loved, and how eternally you have been accepted (with a love that wasn't earned and therefore cannot be lost) you are free to love others without worrying about what they will do for you in return. We are free to lose, because Christ won for us.  We are free to be non-famous nobodies because Jesus was that somebody for us. We are free to be who God made us to be, without worrying about what everyone else expects or thinks.  True security, and confidence is thinking of yourself less, and looking to Jesus more.

Don't follow your heart.   I know that the world around you, romantic movies, and Disney will tell you to, but God's word tells us something totally different.  In Jeremiah 17:9 he warns us that "the heart is deceitful above all things and beyond all cure."  You must carefully  lead your heart, in wisdom, and instruct it in knowledge of God's word.  You must surrender your heart, with it's whims and fleeting desires, to the One you knows you best the One who's glory is so far better than satisfying your turbulent emotions.  You must guard your heart (Prov. 4:23) and not give it away to just anyone who flatters you, or makes you promises.  A wise woman is discerning...she does not flit about chasing after what "feels right".  Do right, even when you don't feel like it.

but...
Don't worry about what you will "do".   God calls us to be faithful, not "successful".   I care far more about WHO you are, than what you accomplish.  I care more about your growth than your comfort.   I want you to know, without a doubt, that I don't care in the least what career path you choose, what sort of education you pursue, or how much money you make...or choose not to make.   If you would rather travel the world, or serve in a local ministry, or work pumping gas, and gain practical experiences before you decide "what you want to do when you grow up" that's totally fine with me.   If you decide to pursue a career and need to go to University that is something I will support, and pray, and help guide you though. If you decide to forgo every conventional expectation and move to a foreign country to live in a hut, I will be your biggest cheerleader.   If you find the love of your life and get married right out of highschool and pop out 12 babies I will be thrilled and will welcome each one of those children, and honour your dignified role as a wife and mother.

Which brings me to my next point.

There will come a day, several years from now, when you start looking at men as potential husbands.  Notice I didn't say "boys" as potential boyfriends.  We've already talked in length about the topics of dating, courting, and marriage so I won't go into that today (I'll save that for another letter) but one thing I don't think I've told you is this...

I don't give a hoot what your future husband does for a living, how highly educated he is, how much money he makes, what race he is, how stunningly handsome he is, or even how able bodied he is.  There are things that are extremely important, and there are things that just really don't matter.  If you can find a man who knows what it is to love sacrificially and serve others as he has been loved and served by Jesus, if you can find a man who is living passionately and courageously on mission, who is gentle and gracious, who is humble enough to embrace repentance, who's inner life and outer life don't contradict each other, who is eager to continue to learn and grow in his faith, who is ambitious enough to lead, provide and protect, and who will strive to love you like Christ loves the church, you will be a very blessed woman.  That man of integrity and strong character may come with a body that can run marathons, or he may not be able to walk at all, he might be an accomplished surgeon, or he might be a brick layer...what matters is his dedication to the Lord, and to you.   While I want you to have high standards, I don't want you to feel like finding  "the one" will "complete" you, or make all your dreams come true.  Perfection does not exist and expecting it will set your marriage up for failure from the start. Marriage is the union of two sinners, and it requires a lot of grace.  Love is work, despite what romantic comedies will tell you. Love is an action, more than it is a feeling.

As I wrap this up, I want you to remember.
You have a purpose.  You are here for a reason, and while this world does not revolve around you, and God's glory and purposes do not depend on you....you are invited into his kingdom work, and he has exquisitely hand crafted you for your part in that.   So, my beautiful one, live your life in light of eternity.  Love sacrificially. Pursue wisdom.  Let the good news of the gospel take root down deep in your soul.   Live with purpose.

You are so very loved.
Mom

We survived week one

After a few months of free range summer kids, it felt good to try to resurrect some sense of routine and order.

Although that task doesn't come without some adjustment pains, an occasional threat of mutiny.

I'm teaching four kids at home this year (three officially registered for home education and the fourth is a tag along), and we have one doing first grade at a local public school.  

I couldn't really give you a great reason why we have one child in regular school, other than "If it ain't broke don't fix it".  We're doing what works for now. 

Elijah will be doing Kindergarten at home this year for a variety of reasons. 

Silas giving me his best first day of first grade "smile".  

Roman is doing Teaching Textbooks for math for the first time.  So far so good!  

Aili is going to stick it out with SOS for another year....even though I wish I had bought her teaching textbooks now too. 

Our Science textbook.  I like subjects that I can to together with, and adapt to kids ranging from preschool to Junior High.  The little ones color animal pictures, while the big ones learn more indepth zoology.

 Here are a few of the other resources we're using. 

Elijah and Cece are doing Kindergarten and Pre-K work with Handwriting Without Tears supplies.

I'm having lots of fun with my two little students this week.   Aili and Roman didn't start home schooling until 2nd and 4th grade and Silas went to public school Kindergarten, so I've never put any effort into PreK type of work.

Honestly I thought it wasn't really my thing....since I'm not all crafty and creative.

But it's been fun. 

It's a lot more fun than trying to keep toddlers out of mischief while teaching older kids. 

 I'm quite enjoying a toddler free school year.  Cece is only 3 1/2 she and Elijah are pretty much on the same level, so it works great to have them doing the same things.  Keeping little hands and minds busy is a good thing.

I need to go hit a dollar store and stock up on craft supplies, and fun activities to keep these little one's constructively busy.  

I feel so much more confident, and assured about educating our kids at home than I have other years.  Maybe it's the three years of experience under our belts, or maybe it's that the kids have gotten older, or maybe the fact that we're seeing the fruit of the decisions we made.  The first year or so all I could do was second guess myself, compare what we were doing to the public school, and fight nagging terror that I was wrecking my kids.   Since then I think we've found our groove, and we're really seeing the benefits of a home schooling, lots of time together, making education a part of everything we do, lifestyle.   

It is only September though....all that optimism will be all used up by March...or maybe October. 

\This is my homework.  Very encouraging, empowering, and informative reading so far.

Aili is now doing 7th grade!  Wow.  Hard to believe she's a Junior Higher now. 

One perk of homeschooling is you get to choose your location while you study. 

It's been a good productive week, but it's also been challenging.  The Hubster is still working long days in the field.  The kids see him for a quick hug goodbye at breakfast time.  He gets home long after they're in bed.  It's a change from Daddy usually being home for meals and in the evenings.

Change is always hard on Elijah....by Friday afternoon he was pretty much a basket case.  It's been building up all week with Daddy away, his "twin" leaving every morning on the bus, and lots of little changes in routine.  He's just wound pretty tight, and his hyper vigilance has switched into a higher gear.  Overall he's handling things better than he did during seeding season (which I think also corresponded with a natural post honeymoon meltdown phase).  

To finish the week off strong I found out we have mice in our house.  It's been several years since we've had uninvited pets so I wasn't really expecting scurrying visitors.  

We limped our way to the finish and ended our school week with popcorn and a movie. 

After the kids were tucked into bed I had my own little 

"we made it through the first week of home school" celebration.

...and tomorrow we attempt to catch up on the yard, house, and garden work that got neglected all week.

Playing in Dirt

A big part of my summer is my vegetable garden.   While it's not huge (I often wish I had more space so I could put more produce away for winter) it's big enough to keep us overwhelmed with fresh veggies all summer.  It's also plenty of work, but so worth it. 

There is something about growing your own food that is satisfying. 

It's very practical when you have a little money and a lot of kids. 

I also happen to love the convenience of having a produce section in my front yard.  If I need some veggies for supper I just go out and grab some.  That's a great thing when you live 50 km from the closest small town over priced grocery store.

They're extremely fresh, they're chemical free, and they are virtually free.

I'm not one of those meticulous, hyper organized, map and chart everything that is grown, plant in straight rows or lovely boxes kind of gardeners.  I'm a throw some seeds in the ground, forget where I planted anything until it comes up, replant what didn't come up...or I forgot to plant, keep the weeds down enough that I can find the vegetables, try to keep it alive, and then eat it all kind of gardeners.

Elijah has really enjoyed getting his hands dirty, and his clothes wet, to "help" me pick the vegetables. 

My herb box.  The drawer from and old entertainment unit didn't hold together quite as well as I had hoped.  But it has served it's purpose well for a year. 

I've restocked my cupboard with dehydrated herbs.

I grew kale for the first time...it produced a lot, and was much milder than the stuff I've bought in the store.  However it was more of an early summer green.

The garden in July.

Lots of stir-fry happening.

The closest thing I have to a flower garden is a few marigolds on the edge of my vegetable garden.  

The weeds have been horrid this year.  With the new load of manure, and all the rain the weeds have been hard to keep under any sort of control.   At this point in the summer I pretty much have quite trying.  There is a LOT of thistle this year...and because I let them all go to seed, there is going to be even more next year.  

My peppers and tomatoes did really well this year.  

I think I'm going to have to cook up, and can,  a big batch of Salsa! 

The garden in August.  The dill and the Coriander have created their own little jungle. 

What can you do with too many beets?

Pickle them.  Yummers.

My Daughter

This past weekend we celebrated Aili's 12th birthday.

It's wild and wonderful thing to see your little girl begin to become a woman.  

So much has changed, but...

I still see that same little face that used to ask me to rub her back every night at bedtime by pleading "wubby?"

I still see that impish little grin as she does her best to make us laugh.

I still see the same blue eyes that looked up at me, wide open, as I held her for the first time. 

 I vividly remember looking down and saying 

"hello, I'm your mummy"

It was a fearful, and incredible experience to hold my living, breathing, healthy, wriggling full of life child. 

A little part of me, a little part of her daddy. 

I can't quite figure out where the years went.

Part woman, part little girl.

A fascinating combination.

 Old enough for a budding friendship, and long late evening conversations with Mom...

and yet not too old to build forts, play house, and play play-doh with her siblings.

I'm so thankful for this beautiful young lady. 

She is such a good helper.  I honestly don't know how I'd keep all the daily tasks done with out her. 

I've heard the sentiment that fostering, adoption, or large families in general, aren't fair to older children.  They "have to" learn to serve others, to share what they have, and to be responsible long before our culture says they should.  Far from being a detriment it has helped to forge the character of this young lady.

Aili is the first one to suggest we adopt again, and ask for more siblings.   Although I'm sure she would love more undivided attention from Mom and Dad, I know she doesn't resent having four younger siblings...in fact it appears that she quite enjoys it. She day dreams (outloud) about all the places she's going to go, the work she's going to do, and the people she's going to serve.  I really can't wait to see what God's got planned for this one.

At 12 she can make meals, bake various goodies, and is neater at folding laundry than I am.   This girl is amazing at organizing the Little's into activities, games, and doing crafts with them.  She even enjoys "teaching preschool" lessons to them.  This experience has led to regular babysitting jobs, and her being a "mothers helper" one day a week for a neighbour who has three preschool boys. It's been fun to watch her develop from a scatterbrained adolescent into a responsible young woman who can keep track of her money, and show up at a job. She is quite the little entrepreneur.

She is creative, ambitious, and full of big ideas and dreams.  She loves to write, and has recently taken up sewing.  She keeps her Barbies outfitted with original custom designs.

12 years ago a bright eyed, pink faced, fuzzy haired baby girl was born.  She made her parents, who had waited so long, and been through so much heart break, the happiest people on earth.  

These parents were also confused because people told them to "sleep when the baby sleeps", and this baby just did not sleep.  She was convinced if she closed her eyes she would miss something important.

12 years later this beautiful girl still lives life with her heart and her eyes wide open. 

Aili, you are a delight. 

I am so proud of you, and thankful for you.

You are a gift to us, and a gift to the world that you are going to set on fire. 

You are lovely, and beautiful.

Happy Birthday Aili girl.  

Soli Deo Gloria,

A little Adoption Rant

Adoption Peeve Rant: 

My peeve is this, when someone, even 50 years later, still regularly introduces their son or daughter, as "This is my adopted son......" or "This is my adopted daughter......". 

Especially someone in a high profile position, who makes that distinction regularly....and the introduction usually includes race, and place of origin as well.  

 It makes me all like "GAAAH!".   

Adoption is a PAST TENSE VERB, not an adjective!!  

Their culture of origin should be respected (and even embraced), they should know about their adoption, and their race is a part of who they are.  Those things need to be acknowledged and celebrated  throughout their life.....but our children are not the sum total of those factors.  Do they constantly need us reminding them, in front of others, that they are different?  A different sort of son or daughter?

The word "adoption" describes how that child came into your family it does NOT forever become their title.  It does NOT describe them as a person, or describe their position in your family. 

We don't go around saying stuff like,

"This is my caesarean section son" 

"This is the fruit of my loins daughter" 

"This is my IVF son" 

"This is my 'I pushed for four hours' daughter" 

...so why do we not find it strange when people do this with adopted children (especially into adulthood)?

I wonder how people would respond if we started introducing all our children by describing how they came into our family, or the situations surrounding their birth?  

Would you introduce your child as:

"This is my 'We got frisky in the back of a pick up truck' son" or

"This is my 'oops, the condom broke' daughter" 

Not likely.  If you do, you have issues. 

Would we introduce our daughter for 50 years as  "This is my premature NICU daughter"

Do you honestly think a person wants to be referred to as "my adopted son" their whole life? Do we not think that would make our child feel like a second rate heir?  Do we want them to feel like they get our second class love? 

I will introduce all of my children as either "this is my son" or "this is my daughter" because that's what they are, regardless of how they came into the world, and into our family. 


I'm proud of them, and love how God brought them into our family through the gift of adoption, I will continue to talk about and advocate for adoption.....but they are now simply and truthfully "my child". 

 Obviously two of my kids look nothing like me, and if someone wants to come up with their own conclusions (even incorrect ones) I don't actually care. If they are genuinely curious and want to inquire more, I am happy to give them situation appropriate answers. 

 I'm obviously not trying to hide the fact that a couple of my kids are adopted, from them or anyone else.  I see adoption as a beautiful thing, not as something shameful, or secret, or a second best attempt at being a parent.....BUT we have to be careful how our own kids view the word "Adopted" and how their identity is formed (or preferably not formed) around that.   Constantly referring to them as "my adopted son" is a great way to make them feel either indebted, or resentful.   


So here's the thing....

I am my kid's Mom.  I'm not someone merely pretending to by their Mom, or acting as a life long babysitter.  I'm just their Mom, no more, no less.  

They are "my child".

Hobo Town and Harvest Time

Every once in a while, all of my kids enter into their own little imaginary world

...together. 

Although their imaginary worlds tend to create all kinds of creative mess, 

it really is bliss (for me).

The Kidlets spent three whole days in the world they created.  I actually have no idea what it was they were playing....but it looked like a hobo town to me. 

A very well armed hobo town. 

One you wouldn't want to just sneak up on,

 hoping for a cup of coffee from their fancy, broken, garage sale coffee maker they had drug out of the garbage bin.

It looks like they also might be signalling for more small hobos to join their ranks. 

I'm not sticking around long enough to find out. 

They scare me. 

One year ago today, after several months of working, wondering, waiting, glitches, and set backs, this little face popped up in my email inbox.  

Our official "Child proposal". 

Our match.

Without a doubt in our minds we replied 

"YES!"

"We will pursue this child, we intend to make him our son. "

I think it was a miracle that we would even *know* or trust enough to sign those papers for a child we'd never met.

I can't explain how we both knew this was our son, but we did.  I can't even begin to explain it.

I was willing to go to the ends of the earth to find him, 

and I'm so glad we did.

It was nothing short of a gift of God's grace, provision, and providence...

in our life and his. 

A beautiful, life filled, joy bringing gift.

I still find it amusing that the name given to him in China was "Qiu" meaning Autumn/ harvest.  

Somehow this time of year is significant, marking not only his name but most major milestones and transitions in his life.  

(Including his birthday which is coming up in a couple weeks!)

His "birthday", 

his abandonment/ finding as a toddler, 

a couple different major transitions between foster care and orphanages, 

and his forever parents claiming him as their own

all happened during harvest season.

I'm not one to read too much into things like that,

but this time of year does cause me to pause, give thanks, remember, and celebrate all that the Lord has done in his life....and will continue to do. 

It's that time of year again.

Harvest 2013 has officially begun.

Soli Deo Gloria,