Adoption and Big Scary Dollar Signs

I need to talk to you about adoption and that thing that scares everyone about it: money. 

You know, the devil hates adoption.  He HATES the idea that someone would believe the Gospel so whole-heartedly that they would live it out and adopt, and love, and cherish, and bring into their family as a co-heir with their biological sons and daughters a child of no blood relation to them.  He hates that Christians would willingly go through stress and anxiety and work and meetings with social workers and financial sacrifice and struggle in order to make their own one who was not their own.   He reviles it.  Because adoption is soaked in Gospel implications.  And it spells his own doom.  It reminds him of the Child born to a scared teenage girl, adopted by an earthly father, who will one day return to crush him.  He couldn’t destroy that child, so he will try to destroy other vulnerable children and adoptions.    

The first thing he whispers into the ear of would-be adoptive parents is: “you can’t afford it.”   

Newborn and international adoptions have some big scary dollar signs attached.  And Satan wants hopeful adoptive parents to run the other way.  It’s not worth the sacrifice.  The cost can seem so dark and looming that the whole idea appears impossible.  God will never provide that much.  But it’s not impossible.  It is exactly the kind of impractical and improbable lifework - requiring self-sacrifice, pain, and perseverance - that God loves to do to put the glory of the Gospel of Christ on display in this darkened world.

Now this post isn’t really for adopting families.  They know all this. 

I’m talking to you:  those of you not adopting.  This message is for you. 

Adoptive families need you. 

Adoptive families are not walking down this path in their own strength and with (only) their own resources – or at least they shouldn’t be.  God is probably not going to give them a one-time-only gift of the Holy Spirit that allows them to conjure money out of thin air in order to finance an adoption.  He is going to use YOU. 

He is going to use you to pray.  And he is going to use you to give. 

Pray for strength, perseverance, and joyfulness in the trials that come.  Pray for wisdom and clarity on moving forward in the process. 

Pray for money.  Adoptive families really need you to pray for money.  It sounds crass, but it’s reality.  I think we can sometimes have the feeling that it’s more spiritual to not talk about money. But adoption takes money.  Lots and lots of money.  Money money money.  Money (I'm trying to help us get past the awkwardness).  Money (Is it working?).

Pray for that adoptive family to be provided the funds they need and then ask God how much he wants you to give.  Maybe he’ll say nothing.  But he might say five dollars.  Or five hundred.  

You may not be adopting, but you have everything to do with this.  You are members of the body of  Christ, and your fellow member needs a lot of money – that they don’t have - to do a God-honoring thing.  They have stepped out in faith, and now it’s your turn.  Pray and give. 

Walk alongside your brothers and sisters in Christ and show Satan that he will not win this battle.  The dollar signs are big, but our faith is bigger.  And together, our pockets are deep for the work of God. 

The church will stand together against the culture of death-by-abortion.  The church will raise up families who open their homes to the fatherless.  The church will be a beacon of hope to women facing crisis pregnancies.  The church will have open arms for children of all races, health, abilities, nationalities, and backgrounds.  The church will live sacrificially.  The church will give sacrificially.  Supporting adoption – in word and prayer and deed – is a huge part of how we do this.  

Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.  1 John 3:18

Photo Credit: Alan Levine  Creative Commons Licensing

  

Dear Young Women

To the young women in my life…

Turning thirty has me in a reflective mood.  My twenties were full and busy.  My life was a roller coaster through college, marriage, children, chronic pain, adoption, moving, seminary, jobs, ministry.  When looking back on it today, what stands out to me is the remarkable and faithful young women with whom I shared my twenties and the everlasting impact they made on my faith.  And this verse came to mind:   

“Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity.”  1 Timothy 4:12

Young women have been some of my most powerful teachers.  They have been some of the most striking examples of Gospel-centered living and servant-hearted sacrifice.  They have been some of the most solemn illustrations of living prostrate before the Lord in total trust and dependence. 

You have done this despite being busy and tired and overwhelmed and struggling and in pain.  But let me tell you: you are a breath of fresh air to my soul.  You, in your youth, your tears, in your mess, are life-giving to me.  You have wisdom from the Lord that defies your years and genuine faith that inspires me.          

You, who suffered the unthinkable, and had two children die by the time you were 33.  You showed me what it looks like to praise God even in mourning.  When you got those phone calls and still cried out to the Lord instead of cursing Him - I was there.  I saw.  And I saw how big and mighty and loving our God is in your eyes.  I saw Him uphold you.  I saw you cling to Him rather than run away.  You showed me that in the darkest night, He is still good and worthy of our devotion.  You opened your mouth and the wisdom of the Word came pouring out.  Will you be wiser in thirty years?  Yes!  But I needed to hear you right then.  I needed the truth that was on your lips as you cried; the words of a broken young woman worshiping her eternal God. 

You, who are suffering from disabling pain that began after your first baby – you have shown me the source of true wisdom like no one else.  God crushed your dream of being a career missionary.   He took from you the joyful prospect of more children.  He changed your ability to serve your husband and your family and your church.  He gave instead sleepless nights, financial trouble, hard decisions, isolation, and pain.  But through the agony and despair, He taught your heart to say:  “It is good for me that I was afflicted that I might learn your statutes.”  You grew closer to Him as all else was taken away.  You say again and again: “This is God’s best for me.  It can be nothing else.”  And you mean it.  “All this pain has been for my good and God’s glory.” And my heart is changed.  You are young, but your faith is ancient and deep.  Your trust high and wide.  I need to know you, see you, hear you, young woman.  Because as He teaches you through your pain, He reveals His Grace to me. 

You, whose husband left you with two toddlers and a baby on the way.  You are far too young for such pain.  Far too young to be able to tell such a story.  Twenty seven.  But you show me what it means to have a “gentle and quiet spirit” as you live in peace and trust and worship before your God.  The Gospel of Christ is real to you- your everlasting hope - as you walk through the fall out of a broken marriage.  God is the Faithful One, though people will fail.  You learned this young and hard.  You count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus your Lord. (Phil 3:8).  Will I trust Him too, your life asks me?  Will I really trust Him, if my world falls down?        

You, who have faced miscarriage after miscarriage.  You are young, but your eyes are often raw with weeping, your body aches beyond its age, and your arms are empty, your longing unfulfilled.  Yet you still believe God’s Word.  It is precious, it is life to you.  His plan feels like pain, yet you worship.  Your grief is an ever present void, but the Lord’s praises are on your lips, His songs in your heart, as you listen for what He has to teach you.  You know His plans are greater than your own, and His ways are always wise.  You know that He shed His Son’s own blood to ransom your soul; your deepest need is met; your future in glory is secure.  I need the teaching that He has put in your heart.  I need your perspective on His love.  Not later someday when you have processed this all; but now in the darkness where the light of fervent and unlikely faith shines so bright.   

You, who serve patiently, selflessly every day.  Your parenting journey so far has been short, but its intensity is like that of a lifetime.  You said “yes” when the adoption agency showed you her picture and the file that said, “fetal alcohol syndrome – failure to thrive.”  You said “yes” to sacrificial Christlike love.  Your faith belittles mine!   Your hope puts me to shame!  Your God is my God - but you know Him so much more!   I need you, young woman, to teach my soul to trust Him – truly, wholly, unreservedly.  To serve and love without holding back. 

You, dear sweet friend, who in your early twenties faced anxiety, insomnia, a broken engagement, and poor health.  Your spirit resolved to trust the Lord though you saw no way out of your circumstances, and the future was a black hole.  Your mind was racing and fearful, but you fought fiercely for your faith, and it was well with your soul.  When I felt fear and insecurity, your gentle words reminded me of God’s promises and reinforced my heart.  When insomnia ruled my nights you offered me pearls of wisdom from your own trials.  “When your body cannot rest, your mind can still rest in Christ.  Use the long empty nights to praise Him in the quiet.”  Many sleepless nights have followed and I have never forgotten those words.  Praise God. 

Dear young women, sometimes you think you have nothing to offer.  You are too young.  Too busy.  Too deeply “in the trenches” to have anything of worth to share.  Until you are past it all, you’ll have little impact on other's lives.

      

You are so wrong. 

 

Because by your faithful lives and words you have pointed me over and over – not to yourself – but to our God. 

You believe in the Gospel with fervency.  You trust the Lord with a tenacity born out of struggle and despair.  You hold on to the Savior as if your life depends on it – because you know that it does.  We need to see your faith, hear of it, praise God for it, dear sisters - in your youth, in your suffering, in your weakness, in the mess.  

     

“Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity.” 1 Timothy 4:12

You have done it well.  

Early Summer Projects

In an effort to not over share on Facebook and fill everyone's feeds with pictures of gardens and birds, I'm writing another "update" post here. So here are the projects I have going on right now....

Unschooling Insect Study

One of my 6-year-old's money-earning tasks is to weed the gardens.  When he's really excited about saving up to buy a particular Lego set, he'll ask to go outside right after breakfast and get to work. I love giving him this job, because he learns so much about the garden ecosystem by getting his hands dirty.  He's right down there with the dirt and roots, the leaves and flowers, bugs and worms.  He knows the first two inches under the soil and the first two inches above as well as I do.  He may be earning money doing a simple chore, but he's also learning through his observation and experience. A recent conversation went like this:

"I was pulling weeds from under the bricks, and one brick was a home to rollie pollies! Can I put the brick back so they can still live there? They have a happy home."

I was pretty sure that pill bug are harmless, so I said that would probably be fine.  I did a quick search and learned that they eat decaying plant matter.  I told D and he asked if he could give the dead weeds he was pulling up to the rollie pollie family. Sure, why not?  He said, "That's so good!  We need to kill the weeds, and they need to eat them!  Isn't that so good?!" He was amazed by the serendipitous discovery.

All these little interactions with nature are why it's so important to me that my kids get outside.  Not just to play soccer or climb on a playground - but really into nature.  Spending quiet, thoughtful time watching, touching, building, exploring, creating and testing child-sized hypotheses about why and how things happen to be a certain way.  These are beginning lessons in entomology, biology, ecology, botany...  I call it "unschooling," because we're not planning lessons here - we're cultivating a lifestyle in which the kids can freely learn through exploring the world around them, and even under their feet. I'm around to answer questions, but their natural curiosity drives their learning. The thrill of personal discovery trumps any coloring page text book, or nature documentary in terms of both the experience itself, and for retention and meaning. Discovery is a meaningful personal memory, not a dry fact.

It seems so silly, but I distinctly remember adopting an ant hill in my backyard in Georgia when I was seven years old. I brought bread crumbs out to feed them, and watched, fascinated, as the teeny tiny creatures carried them away down into their tunnels.

Picking up worms and putting them into the garden because their waste helps feed the plants is a child's study in nutrient cycling.

Watching the ducks forage for slugs to keep our garden from their constant slimy attack is a child's lesson in organic pest management and biodiverse agriculture (watching the slugs decimate the garden this year, including the sunflowers D planted, because we don't have ducks, is a much less pleasant way to learn that lesson).

Watching plants wither and droop in the sun, then spring back to life after the rain is a child's study in plant respiration and circulation.

Observing that the clover closes up its broad leaves toward the evening, then opens them again to the morning sun, is a child's study in circadian rhythms and plant physiology.

Children are so curious, so excitable, so impressionable, that all we need to do is give them access to the outdoors, and they simply learn.  I leave you with these quotes from Charlotte Mason, a pioneer of homeschooling philosophy at the turn of the 20th century:

"[The child] must live hours daily in the open air, and, as far as possible, in the country; must look and touch and listen; must be quick to note, consciously, every peculiarity of habit or structure, in beast, bird, or insect; the manner of growth and fructification of every plant. He must be accustomed to ask why––Why does the wind blow? Why does the river flow? Why is a leaf-bud sticky? And do not hurry to answer his questions for him; let him think his difficulties out so far as his small experience will carry him."

"…because my object is to show that the chief function of the child––his business in the world during the first six or seven years of his life––is to find out all he can, about whatever comes under his notice, by means of his five senses..."

Do What You Love

Pinterest. Oh, Pinterest. We all have mixed feelings about Pinterest, right? It's so helpful and inspiring, on one hand. When I'm stuck on ideas for dinner I can find something new and yummy quickly. I adore browsing photos of white, turn-of-the-century farmhouses and decor ideas. I pin gratuitous numbers of horse pictures and have more pins on my Geek board than all four of my boards related to cooking.

But then there's the dark side (maybe not to Pinterest, but certainly to our hearts): the constant pressure to make your house Pin Worthy, your dinner, birthday party, or bathroom reorganization a Pinterest Success, and the need to occasionally claim (humble-brag?) that something you tried ended up a Pinterest Fail.

But, even for the Pinterest Fail, the point is that you TRIED to make that cake/tutu/throw pillow/dinner/homemade soap a Pinterest Success, right? We feel like we have to TRY, or what are we really doing with our lives? I mean, if it can't be photographed and shared with a couple hundred or thousand people, what's the point?

I'm not immune to any of this, for sure. And keeping a blog that relies on pictures of my property makes me want to keep everything perfectly curated and picture-ready. But that's not life (not my life, anyway), and that's not why I'm doing this. I don't really want it to look perfect on this blog, because it's not. At all. It's an experiment, and it usually looks exactly like an experiment - always hopeful and varying degrees of messy, fun, stressful, unpredictable, and wonderful.

If I could share one thing I've learned about this homesteading, homemaking, homeschooling life lived in the shadow of Pinterest and social media that keeps me sane, it's this:

Do what you love.

Do what you love, what you are passionate about, what gives you energy and hope, do what you want to do with your children and pass on to them as a legacy.

Yes, you still have to scrub toilets and go grocery shopping, that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about those extra things - the specially cultivated skills and activities of the homemaker that make a home uniquely warm and welcoming, and express her personality to her friends, family, and neighbors. Those things that you spend your time, energy, money, and resources on - 

choose wisely and LOVE those things.

You see, for a while I was convinced that it would be really great to be crafty. As a child I thought I had some artistic talent, so as an adult exposed to the world of Pinterest I thought it'd be fantastic if I always made homemade cards, and maybe homemade art for my children's room, and homemade wall hangings and so on. And wouldn't it be wonderful if now that I have kids I could sew? I could sew costumes, pillowcases, curtains... the possibilities and pins are endless. 

But after a lot of trips to Michaels it turns out that I don't actually enjoy crafting. I'm not actually an artistic person. I can sketch a bit, sure, but only because I am good at copying, not because I have any sort of vision of my own. Additionally, I don't really enjoy being inside, sitting down, or holding still. Or cleaning up the messes that happen after art projects. So sitting at a sewing machine or a table covered in art supplies didn't work for me.  It took me a while, but eventually I realized it wasn't bringing me any joy, and I let it go.

Yeah, Pinterest is full of all these really awesome things I could make. Yes, I love to see them in other people's homes. I admire the gifted and talented people who can really pull that off; their creations add to their homes and display their personalities and God-given talents. But that's not me.

For a while I pinned pictures and tutorials on "Easy Fast Ways to Style Long Hair."  Nope.  Couldn't make any sense out of those pictures!  And I realized I didn't care enough to try very hard to figure it out. I have three hair styles: up, down, and baseball cap.  Beautiful, intricately braided hair is awesome, but that's not me. 

I like dirt. Grass. Plants. Boots. Identifying weeds. Baseball caps and tank tops and wiping muddy hands on my jeans. 

 I love to watch things grow and never lose the thrill of watching a seed push up out of the soil. I remember that moment the plant's first leaves hit the sun when three months later I pick its first ripe fruit. 

The life cycle of the garden reminds me that God is faithful and true and good. I imagine that my joy at seeing my garden flourish is like a tiny taste of God's great glorious joy in creation, when he made the whole earth spring forth with living things by his word alone. The pests and weeds remind me that the world is fallen, and make me ponder what it was like in the Garden of Eden and make me long for Christ to return. The taste of our homegrown strawberries and tomatoes reminds me to yearn for the new creation when everything will be even better - beyond our wildest imaginings and greatest hopes. 

Pinterest can't give anyone that passion. No matter what a good idea gardening is, no matter how great it looks in that picture, if you don't love it, it will just wear you down, like crafting wore me down. Growing organic vegetables for your family won't express who you are, bring you closer to God, or create a restful, welcoming atmosphere in your home if you don't enjoy it. I enjoy it.  So I spend my time in the garden. But don't be like me.  Be like you.  What has God put in your heart?  What do you love?  How can you bring glory to Him by enjoying the things he created you - you in particular- to enjoy?

You love decorating your home?  Do it! Use the passion and creativity God gave you to make your home a reflection of His goodness, beauty, peace, and order. Use Pinterest to inspire you.  Make that shiplap whatnot.  Follow Johanna Gaines.  Not because you want to impress your friends, but because the art of decorating satisfies your creative soul.

You love cooking? (I did, before it involved tiny critics standing at my elbows whining and touching the hot stove). Cook! Whip up some amazing treats and gourmet dinners to bless everyone around you! Do it because you love food, you are thrilled with new ingredients, because you enjoy every taste and texture and smell of the experience.  Do it because purple potatoes are awesome.  Not because you feel like you have to.

But you know what, if cooking is not your thing, if crafting bores you, if you could care less about your hair, or you don't like gardening (I'll try not to judge you), then don't. Don't waste your time trying to keep up with your friend who just happens to love sewing. Don't apologize for bringing store bought bagels and cream cheese (done it) to a brunch when everyone else brings an overnight crockpot Pinterest Success. Don't start organic gardening because you know a lot of people who do.  Maybe Google "ombre" and "baylage" (and then Google will ask if you meant "balayage") so you know what everyone is talking about, but you don't need to dye your hair.

Do what you love, not what is trending.

And while you're gaining your freedom from the soul-crushing cage of comparison made so easy by social media, remember to offer others grace, too.

 That mom at the bake sale who clearly stayed up all night decorating tiny cupcakes with fondont flowers?  All the other moms hate her and her perfect little petals, right?  Don't. I know it's hard, trust me, but don't. Don't imagine that she's judging you because her cupcakes make you second guess your choice of brownies from a box (YUM!).  Don't make your self feel better by deciding that she must have neglected her children all day to pull off that feat. Those cupcakes have nothing to do with you.  For all you know she put the kids to bed, poured herself a glass of wine, put on reruns of her favorite TV show, and for the first time all week - relaxed.  Focused on something simple and beautiful.  Made something with her hands that she could sit back and enjoy for a moment before kids ripped into them.  And had the. best. time. all by herself in her quiet house.  

Don't hate that. Just say, "those cupcakes are beautiful!"

Or maybe she felt so much guilt at her initial desire to buy donuts from the grocery store that she stayed up all night, stressed to tears, making these things she saw on Pinterest and now is exhausted, embarassed, and upset because she realizes that her effort to make beautiful cupcakes, which was misguided to begin with, is also making all the other moms hate her.  Don't. 

We're all in this battle, navigating our own hearts, gifts, and web browsers. Don't lose yourself as you scroll Pinterest and see what everyone else is pinning. Don't lose heart as you check Facebook and see your friends' curated selection of images.     

Do what YOU love. Serve YOUR family. Bless others with YOUR gifts.  Inspire others to do the same. And always extend grace.

Spring Update

My last post on this blog was over a year ago! There has been so much I've wanted to share, but there's a very good reason why I've taken a long break: we had a baby! Our beautiful little girl was born last year on August 2nd. We are blessed beyond belief to have her in our family! She is joyful, giggly, and easy going. The boys adore her and she lights up whenever she sees them. Life is a little tougher, but a whole lot sweeter with her here.



Gardening while pregnant started off as a challenge and then became impossible. To keep the garden alive and flourishing I had a lovely friend do a "garden share" with me and come over to garden once a week with her little children. She planted some of her own things, kept up with what I had managed to put in, and weeded. We shared the harvest. It was such a great experience I would love to do it again if the need arises!

Since we would have a newborn (and no sleep) all winter we decided to sell all of our animals in the fall (we had our turkeys butchered and ate them!). So we are now starting over with our little homestead. This year the early spring weather was ridiculously warm, so I got a spring garden in by April. I made a third vegetable garden bed, planted sixteen more blueberry bushes, another twenty feet of raspberry canes, and have plans to finally buy the sheep we've been planning for for almost two years!

I promise I'll be back to share more, but for now here are some pictures of our spring garden.

Spring??

Because who could possibly resist the idea of getting such a head start on their spring garden!? Already-hardened-off spinach, lettuce, and snap peas from a little local store, ready to go in the ground! Here's to an early season!