May
A Show in Three Acts
Faith and her friend J have been very busy for the past 6 weeks or so. They decided to hold a show in our backyard for their friends and family. A script was written which consisted of two dance numbers and one drama. They created a backdrop, chose costumes and wrote and delievered invitations. A snack booth and a tag sale area were also set up. And then they practiced.
They practiced almost daily. The most amazing thing was seeing their excitement and teamwork. I mean these two 9 year olds really dedicated themselves to putting on an amazing show, dress rehearsals and all. I know Faith prayed for good weather. She hardly slept all night. And then yesterday dawned rainy and cool.
In the afternoon, we saw a clear break and we set up our yard and placed the chairs. I set off to deliver Garnet and Faith to their classes and that’s when I drove into it. A sheer wall of rain. It was a downpour and it was headed our way. I quickly called James at home and begged him to quickly take down the show area and bring everything inside to the schoolroom. I felt sick. Off I went to pick up Faith early from her class and let her know we’d had a change of plans.
As I picked Faith up, we were still hopeful that it would pass us by. We talked about how God could make the rain go by us and into the draw just behind our house. We talked about trusting Him to know best and yet asking Him as our Daddy to do the right thing for us. We drove down the main road toward home and only a few hundred feet away from our turn-off the rain stopped! Our hearts soared and Faith was cheering in the backseat! And then we turned the corner onto our road and were hit by another wall of rain.
I pulled the van in to the driveway and Faith was off to call J. Would anyone still come? I didn’t know if the neighbour kids would be here but I knew their family would (including Stephen who was currently driving over a mountainous highway through that same storm to get to the show on time). Duct tape in hand the back drop went up on the school room wall. Faith gasped! Oh yes she did. Tape on my wall is a huge taboo around here. She told me, “You must really care about my show Mom if you are using duct tape on your walls!” Sigh – yes I am a a bit, umm particular about my paint. Anyway, back to the main story…
We ran around and set things up the best we could. The girls were so nervous and excited. The energy was very high around our house.
And you know what? Kids came, quarters in hand. My schoolroom was full with neighbour kids, grandparents, parents, siblings, an auntie and cousins. Popcorn was popped and purchased. Lemonade was drank and bracelets, books and knick-knacks and treasures were purchased.
Act 1: Here We Go Again
A hit. Some nerves, but they pulled it off with smiles. Lots of popcorn refills from the crowd.
Act 2: Cheetah Sisters
They hit their groove. Extra flair. Again more purchases made – handled by their two stage managers (and yes, they thought of everything!) – one sister and one friend.
Act 3: The Country of Doom
A vampire drama (ahem, not my choice of content, but very funny). Three songs were sung (written and again, choreographed by the two girls). Smiles and laughter were shared. Two Moms cheeks were a bit pink. As J’s Mom mentioned, I don’t think either of us would have had opportunity or nerves to put something like this on. And the neighbour kids? The best part was a comment I overheard from one of the older boys as they headed out the door. That was SO cool!
Flowers from Daddy
Watching the video I took afterwards. Healthy Pride.
One more thing. Something for me to treasure in my heart. Faith announced last night in an off handed way. You know, I think it worked out better having it in the house. I’m so glad!
Yes honey, that’s right. Your Daddy knew all along.
Apr
Decisions, decisions
We are in the midst of our annual two day homeschool convention.
I so look forward to going every year. It’s so affirming to literally walk amongst a large group of like minded families. The kids have their own mini, Christ centered educational camp. The youth have workshops and receive hands on teaching from a number of the keynote speakers from the adult conference. And Stephen and I have a chance to share a tea and puruse great books, seek out direction for our next year and take stock of how the past year has gone.
This year has been challenging in a new way though. Last year I remember being curious as to where the kids would be at, particularly our newest addition. What would she know already? What would her interest bent be? What is her learning style? How quickly would her language be at a level that we could move beyond the basics to all the fun projects, etc.
And here we are. One year later and still many questions.
I shouldn’t be surprised about this. Each year brings new questions regarding the next year’s direction. In many ways I enjoy the discoveries we make and the ways that we tweak their learning paths. But, yet again, I am reminded that my family is not the “norm”. Is there a norm? You know, I never thought so, but somehow the reactions from others suggests to me that there must be.
Each vendor booth at the curriculum market makes me think this when they begin searching for details about our kids in order to begin to narrow down what they might be able to sell us offer us for the benefit of all of our children’s educational goals.
They begin by asking our children’s ages and genders. This is followed by questions to gain an understanding of what they have studied prior to this. Sometime soon after this we find it necessary to divulge just enough about our kids that they begin to visualize the specific needs of each of our four and then they begin to either:
a. Scratch their heads.
b. Look at us in disbelief.
OR
c. Begin to convince us that no matter the wide variations in our children’s learning needs and backgrounds, theirs is the o.n.l.y. curriculum that will not only gain our children entrance into an elite university of their choice, but do it while allowing me to have time to catch up on my housekeeping, pursue a degree of my own and gain back all the blonde hairs I’ve been trading for grey as of late.
Anyway, we seem to pose a bit of a problem to others. We don’t fit into a neat and tidy little curricula box.
And I like that about us.
I think it is what makes our family just that – our family.
Over the years it used to stress me out a lot more than it has today and I am really thankful that He’s brought me out of that dark and weary land of curricula chasing and into a new era of realizing that He knows what my kids need and box or no box, I’m the woman He’s chosen to use in their lives to bring them into closer awareness of their part in His – story.
Did I mention that I think I have the best job I could ever imagine myself doing?
(This is not the job I dreamed of, but He knew better. Anyway, that’s a post for another day.)
So, tonight I pore over catalogues, click through the review sites, fill in my spreadsheets and pray and ask for wisdom. He knows my kids intimately. After all, I am only a tool in my Potter’s hands.
Yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand. Isaiah 64:8 (NIV)
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In another answer to a prayer I prayed many years ago, we were able to meet with the Independent Graduation Counselor from our school of registration. In our province it is widely expected that students will enroll in the publically funded distance learning programs, as a home edcuated, Ministry of Education supervised student. The family will receive a portion of the funds allotted to that student and by completing the required provincial outcomes, that student will receive a highschool diploma. It is assumed that a teen will need the diploma to enter a program of further study at a college or university.
However…
After meeting with the Grad Counselor, we have been told that by collecting samples of the work that our kids complete along the way, the school will approve that an appropriate level of work has been maintained (an informal rather than formal evaluation). The school in turn will create a completion transcript for the student and recommend to the admissions counselor that the student be given entrance into the college or university. The only requirement for entrance beyond the transcript? An English placement exam that is designed for English Language Learners and for which there are numerous online samples and ministry supplied preparation materials.
He directed our steps in this when so many of our peers have gone the mainstream route. We have been going on faith that God would be faithful as we headed down the unknown path. And today He showed us His faithfulness in the flesh.
I’m so thankful.
Apr
What do you say?
I have been approached by a new wave of folks asking questions about our adoptions. Perhaps because spring activities are in full swing, the neighbourhood has come to life and we are out and about a bit more than in the busy indoor months.
(Lots of other little guys have come out into the sunshine too – much to the kids’ delight.)
It’s like we say here in our “herd” (what we have taken to calling our growing family),
“We don’t match on the outside, but our goal is that we match up to Jesus on the inside.”
Unique gifts, free spirits, strong determination, bold imagination and loyal to the core.
That is what we hope for our kids.
Of late, the questions have been both a mix of gentle and, well, not so gentle.
And my responses have been varied as well.
You know, some gentle and some not so gentle.
Am I proud of it? No. Not so much.
But, it has given me reason to think about the two classes of questions that I get asked.
The first is regarding adoption in general and usually allows for a nice balance of give and take in the conversation. I love discussing adoption in general. In fact, it’s one of those times that I get positively chatty. And I’m not one that finds chit chat easy. (No comment, my dear husband.)
The other type involves questions directed to me about my own children’s adoptions.
Now, here is where it gets dicey.
As a parent, I feel it’s my repsonsibility to create a safe haven in our family for all the members in it. So talking about the most trauma filled moments of my children’s lives (and that includes my bio kids and my husband as well) to anyone wanting to know more details than have been offered up for conversation gets me going through a little speedy evaluation process.
First: Go on Red Alert
The warning bells go off and I begin to silently evaluate the words I am hearing or the questions I am being asked.
Second: How much information are they asking for ?
Is this curiosity or probing? Do they want to know more about International Adoption, the orphan crisis in the world or about what makes my kids tick? Are they wondering about Steve’s and my choices? Is this something that the Holy Spirit is doing in their lives?
Third: Can I in good conscience answer that question on behalf of my children?
I will have to answer to my children’s adult selves and even sooner to their somewhat more angst ridden teen years. My current teen has challenged me to hold tight to the familiy boundaries. I have no doubt that any one of my other kids will want the same from me in the future years. I need to preserve and protect their precious info. Can I do this and blog? How about sharing God’s heart for the orphan? This is something that I am working out the best I can. I think it may prove to be *my* biggest lesson in all this. Balance.
Fourth: The Bob and Weave
Which requires me to choose:
a) Give enough info in order to keep the converation light.
b) Change the subject
c) Walk away and ignore the questioner all together.
This is one time when answering “c” or “all of the above” may not be the wisest choice.
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This is where I really take into consideration who is doing the asking. I used to think that all “strangers” such as those in line at the grocery store or or the lady at the post office counter would always fall into the categories of b or c. Really how could it be any of their business? For the people little closer in, I assumed that their being in a close relationship with our family would allow them a bit more leeway in what I would answer.
Now I know that there is a lot more grey.
Perhaps it is because we live in a smaller community. Perhaps it is because some of those same people that I used to think of as strangers have been brought to opening up about their own stories.
I am honoured to be able to hear them.
People like the young service technician who came to our home a few weeks ago and out of the blue told me very simply that he had a tragic childhood, but that his aunt and uncle had reached out to add him to their already full household in order to give him a great launching place for his later adulthood.
Or the older female lab tech at our local clinic who was so taken by our brave little girl (in for yet another round of invasive bloodwork) and just paused for a moment and said, “Bless her heart”, her eyes a little moist.
And no, we aren’t from the Deep South.
She simply looked at our girl and really saw her – almost as if for the first time – a real living breathing Orphan-No-More. Instead she saw her as we do. A precious daughter. A beloved sister.
So I have been doing a lot of thinking. I haven’t always answered with the grace I know He would have me speak with. I have missed opportunities to share about God’s mercy to me in welcoming our children home. But I am a work in progress and the more I journey the more I match my Jesus. And the more I match my Jesus, the more he can use me. And the more He uses me the more opportunity I’ll have to discern and share. Or not.
Apr
Revelation
Tonight James is sleeping over at a friends’ house. Faith is having a friend from the neighbourhood come spend the night. So, as is our custom, that means the kids without a play date arranged get to have a sibling sleepover.
We Stephen had just blown up the airbed and I was asking Grace which movie she had chosen to watch. She had the Easter Storykeeper’s video out. She flipped it over and told me all about the “kwhy” (bad) guys and really, the whole story of Easter, ending as usual with, “Jesus is alive!”
Such precious words to hear from my little girl. But, I carried it on and asked her a question that I figured I probably knew the answer to.
“Did anyone tell you about Jesus in China?”
“No”, she said, “but I *love* Jesus!”, hugging the video tightly to her chest.
*sniff* <happy tears swallowed>
Yes, such sweet words from our little girl. It is only the beginnings of God’s revelation to her, but as with all of our kids, it is my favourite part of their growing that we get to walk alongside of.
Mar
An 8 year old sermon
I am amazed yet again at how God uses seemingly inconsequential things in a life changing way.
I picked this book up from the library today. I had been meaning to read it for some time and had forgotten that it was on order. When I flipped it open this afternoon, I read something at the bottom of page 231. It went like this, “It was a sermon preached by an old family friend, a pastor named Richard Porter.”
Soooooo?
Well, Richard Porter was the name of the head pastor at a church we attended about 7 or 8 years ago. We had just come out of a very difficult place in our spiritual life. We had given a lot and been hurt a lot and it was in Pastor Rick’s sermons that we found balm for our wounded souls. We grew a lot during that time. So when we moved to a new town in the fall of 2002, we were amazed to hear that back at that church there was some major upheaval. It blew us away as it was so different from what we had experienced there only a few months prior.
I encourage you to read the whole story, but in the mean time, let me give you a glimpse into the work that God is doing in me these many years later through a second hand retelling of Pastor Rick’s teaching. Apparently God used these same words to make an enormous impact on Phil Vischer as well.
“… what does it mean when God gives you a dream, and he shows up in it and the dream comes to life, and then, without warning, the dream dies? What does that mean?”
And this is where I am at right now.
The happy part in this? The answer to that question? Well, read the book. Bottom line, it isn’t about the dream at all, but instead it is about the dream giver.