On Purpose Thankfulness

Today is one of those days: where I am tired and whiny in both my private thoughts and speech. It's annoying to others and to me. So I am trying very hard to be thankful, knowing that sometimes my true attitude follows the actions of my mouth. With that in mind, I am listing the things that I have noticed this morning that have given me a moment of beauty, thankfulness, and have been a reminder of God's great grace for me. .

• Kids laughing together on the trampoline.
• The lilacs that are in bloom. I love lilacs!
• The clothes hanging on the line and that I had *almost* enough clothespins to hang them all.
• The realization that I have more pictures of myself as a young child than I had previously thought. 
• Eric made it to the bus on time. 
• A day warm enough to wear shorts.
• The promise of a meal that I don't have to cook in the company of good friends tonight. 
• A second cup of coffee fixed just the way I like it.
• A committee I have been on for the past two years completed its task last night!
• I successfully re-purposed an ugly old wreath into a front door decoration that makes me smile every time I look at it. 

I'm going to hold onto these. If I add any more to the list, I will be doing it just to add more to the its or because I feel I should (you know, I should list my thankfulness for healthy kids, a great job for Eric, a home for us to live in and food to eat, all of which often go without saying). 


And to temporarily remedy the whiny, I'm going to go cut some of those blooming lilacs for my dining room. 

It's Good for the Soul

They say that confession is good for the soul. So, for the sake of cleansing my soul, I hearby make my confession.

For the past 12 years, I have used Eric's job as the reason for my inability to keep a clean house. And now, at 35, I have realized that really, I'm just not a good housekeeper.

What brings on this confession? Eric started his new job today which promises to give us a more regular schedule and a more stable and predictable home life. I have long used his unpredictable and ever-changing hours as an excuse for my less-than-perfect housekeeping skills. His job left us both drained from other responsibilities so there wasn't ever the extra energy that was needed to complete basic household tasks, you know, like putting away the laundry. Goodness, there wasn't even a hope that I might mop a floor or clean the bathroom.

But over the past three weeks, Eric has been between jobs. We've had no real stress on our plate and you know what, my house still isn't clean. There are still piles on the floor and counters and the laundry still needs to be put away.

I make this confession because thinking about how our life and family is changing has produced in me a great deal of paranoia and soul-searching. With Eric taking a job that has regular hours, I've felt a bit of the pressure that suddenly, I need to be the perfect housewife that complements that. And according to the cultural upbringing and other things I have heard, this means that the house needs to be perfectly clean, dinner on the table, and me "freshened" for the moment that Eric walks in the door.

Isn't it amazing how cultural stereotypes that may not even be applicable anymore still have an ability to haunt us? There are so many other things that do not bother me that I am surprised by how hampered I am by this.

All joking aside, I am actually a bit troubled by this one thing about me, as if my validity and effectiveness as a mother, wife, and housekeeper are hinged on this one thing. Which they are not.

Regardless, today is a big day in our house! A new job! A new beginning! A chance for us to increase our communication skills! A chance to practice grace as we adjust to this new way of living!

But, shoot, I just looked at the clock. Eric's going to be home in a few minutes . . .and I have to clean the house, make a gourmet dinner, freshen my make-up (when do I ever wear make-up?) Oh well, at least I could get off the computer and pretend to do something useful. Maybe fold a basket of laundry!

Peace.

Remembering Mrs. Meadows

My High School English teacher passed away last night. She flew from a body that was sick and broken into the arms of Jesus.

Today, I have been watching as past classmates of mine have left notes of remembering and grief on Facebook. And it has been sweet to remember.

Of all the wonderful teachers I had during my many years at ICS (Intermountain Christian School) in Salt Lake, Mrs. Janice Meadows is the one I remember the most. Oh sure, I can remember Mr Benson teaching chemistry or editing the school yearbook with Mr. Gutman or even trying to pay attention in AP Calculus with Ms. Schaeffer. But Mrs. Meadows. . .well, she impacted my life in so many ways.

First of all, I can still see how her classroom was set up--with all the desks facing the chalkboard, her desk in the back and her wonderful bookshelf full of books just waiting to be read. I spent much time in front of those bookshelves trying to decide what book to read next. I can see her sitting at her desk while we all tried to figure out how to cut out all our "it is" and "there was" from our essays. I remember the 5 step revision process and I can still see being handed back an essay that I thought was pretty good that was literally covered with red ink.

She helped me to fall in love with classic literature, diagramming sentences, and the well-chosen word. She got me my first real teaching job tutoring 2 twins in grammar over summer vacation. (Man, I love grammar!) Through her classes I read Beowulf, Les Miserables, hordes of English literature, and even some American literature. One Friday she told us our next book was "A Prayer for Owen Meaney." I went to the bookstore that night and bought it. Over the weekend I devoured it. On Monday morning she announced a different book because a parent had complained about questionable content. I was very disappointed and a little confused.

In her classes and through her teaching I learned that I love to write, to express thoughts, ideas, and emotions with the written word, that I love story. She helped me discover the path that I am currently traveling.

I can still hear her voice and see her red marks as I write today. I cringe with every "there was" that I write because I know it is lazy, boring writing. And because of this one sweet woman, I will strive to do better.

Thank you Mrs. Meadows, for you inspired me and countless others to do our best, to not settle for lazy, uninspired words.

All About Me

So this weekend, I turned 35. Can you believe it? I can't, but in honor of this blessed occasion (cough, cough), I thought I would post 35 things about me. Well, at least I hope I can come up with 35.

1) I know two stories about my birth. First, my parents really want to have me and
2) My Dad fainted in the room before I was born.
3) Samantha means "listener."
4) I was born in Arizona.
5) When I was a kid, I wanted to grow up to be a newspaper editor, to earn my PhD, and win a Pulitzer for best novel. (Ha!)
6) I am a better athlete now than I was in high school (or at least I don't care as much as I did then and slow is better than nothing!).
7) Yep, I color the gray hairs on the top of my head.
8) My life passage is Psalm 139. I read it and cling to it in good times and bad times.
9) I met the man I married when I was 16 years old on a mission trip in Ensenada, Mexico.
10) I was 18 when I knew I was going to marry him (it took a little bit longer to convince him!)
11) I am not a good housekeeper.
12) I always knew I wanted to get married, I didn't want to be a mother.
13) I love to jump on the trampoline (don't tell my kids!)
14) 9 times out of 10 I will choose a bike ride to a run.
15) I am an avid reader.
16) I fancy myself a writer.
17) I am actually about 15,000 words into a novel.
18) I may have grown up in Utah, but I was never a Mormon. (by the way, as long as I can remember, there have been paved roads and running water in Utah)
19) I am an introvert, barely.
20) I love to create: whether by sewing, writing, making, cooking. I take great joy in the process of creating.
21) One of my favorite things about God is that he is a Great Creator.
22) My favorite name of God is El Roi, the God who sees, because he always knows me and my struggles, even when I can't give voice to them.
23) The greatest compliment I ever received was when, as a high schooler, my Dad told me that I reminded him of his sister, my Aunt Kathy, who died much to early at 36 of breast cancer.
24) I despise laundry.
25) I am exceedingly proud of the fact that I completed a marathon. In 5 hours, 12 minutes, and 20 seconds, but who is counting?
26) Sometimes, I am irrationally anxious.
27) Over the years, I have really learned to enjoy a good glass of wine. It makes a night complete or it redeems an otherwise bad day.
28) I am thankful beyond measure for the life that I get to lead.
29) I am really awkward at meeting new people and shy in those kinds of situations.
30) I really, really, really like thinking about, creating, and eating fantastic food. However, you might not think it's so fantastic because some of it's kinda weird.
31) I have worked very hard in the past two years to regain good health in my body. Consequently, I will probably be gluten free for the rest of my life.
32) Three of the greatest things I have ever had a hand in creating are my children: Josh, Katie, and Olivia.
33) Two more blessings are waiting for me. And I am waiting for them.
34) I do not deserve the love and companionship I receive from Eric. He is truly a gift to me.
35) I am a Daughter of God, my King, I have been redeemed from my sin by the death of my Savior, Jesus Christ, and I am constantly being molded more into likeness of God by the Holy Spirit. This is who I am.

Now that I am at the end, I've thought of more to tell you, but I'm out of numbers. I guess you'll just have to wait until next year when I give you 36!

The Weight of Waiting

I'm sure that sometime in my almost 35 years of living, I gave a pithy remark to someone who was waiting for something. Maybe they were waiting to find out the result of a medical test or waiting for the announcement of a child for their family or waiting for a loved one to come home. And I said something well-meaning like, " Oh, don't worry, it'll happen soon enough," or thinking "why are you worried, it'll all work out as God planned."

If ever I uttered or thought those words in your general direction, I sincerely apologize.

While I believe firmly in Christ's admonition not to worry, that God has all our yesterdays, todays and tomorrows firmly in his grasp, and I try to live within that, I had yet to experience the weight of waiting.

And it feels like I am walking through waist-deep water wearing a lead-lined cloak. It is hard, it is heavy, and there is little relief.

There is so much waiting going on in our family right now. Two big ones, in fact. One is the exciting and family changing news that E got a new job. We have been blessed with his past 12 years at Gift of Life. That job has shaped how we view the world, how we live, and how we shape our family. Many, many wonderful decisions and relationships have been made as a result of this job. E has done phenomenal work. He has touched families in their darkest moments and brought them the slightest glimmer of hope in the dark of grief. I am more proud of him than I can adequately use words to describe. But this work is hard on a family. At an age where kids understand that "Daddy can't come because he has to work," even if it is noble work, it is difficult.

So God put into our laps, at a time when we weren't really looking, a job that is near to our home (within bicycle distance), with regular hours (how does 8-4:30, M-Fri sound to you--to me it sounds FABULOUS!), with much less call time, and is a perfect fit for E's skills! You know what that sounds like? God's infinite and loving provision for our family.

But now, we are waiting. Waiting for time at GoL to come to a close, waiting for a new job to start. Waiting.

And I think that this waiting would be bearable if our other waiting wasn't so heavy. Our lead-lined cloak is two beautiful, precious kids whose parents can no longer care for them due to AIDS, poverty, or both. And we have no idea what their faces look like, when we might even possible know what their names are, or when they come home to us. This is the waiting that is heavy.

These past weeks that cloak has been heavy on our shoulders. We have seen the beautiful faces of abandoned children waiting for a home. We have heard the statistics again. In a country of 1.9 million there are 359,000 orphans. We have been reminded that truly following Christ is to "care for the least of these."

Although our cloak is heavy, I take comfort in the fact that my current family is beautiful. I am so proud of the glimpses of God that I see in my kids that it makes me cry. I overheard the girls singing "Jesus Loves Me" as they put their dolls to sleep. I am infinitely proud of the growth I see in their anger management, their accountability, their love of God. Everyday they bring me joy. In this time of waiting, my marriage relationship has changed in ways that I never imagined possible. God is using our waiting to show us what a great gift we already have. And to teach us many things at a time when we are open to learn.

But still the waiting weighs heavy on us, and we are anxious to end our waiting time. If I was totally honest with you, I would admit that this is the first doubt I have felt in my life. Not that God isn't good or that He doesn't have a wonderful plan for my life, but that this just is not going to happen.

So I balance the joy and the mundane of my days with the weight of my cloak. Don't worry about me, because I'm not worried. But if you don't mind a prayer on our behalf, it would be greatly appreciated!

What a five years!

Five years ago today, I gave birth to a child that I didn't know I wanted.

If you don't know my history, you have to understand my life at that time to fully get that statement. My oldest two are about 16 months apart in age. And just about the time that I was catching my breath from two pregnancies and babies (when #2 turned 1), God announced a third. This baby changed everything. We had to move houses and neighborhoods. This baby set an already weary body into over-drive. During the time of this pregnancy, my husband was in the middle of an intense Master's program that was coupled with an already intense job. We had made our plans about the future of our family and this baby wasn't in it.

Three babies in three years. I had enough of the "you do know what causes this, don't you?" comments. I was bone weary, soul-tired, emotionally tapped out.

And then I met her. I never knew just how she would change my whole life.

The happy baby who could go from laughing to sleeping within a nano-second. The baby with the spiky dark hair that wouldn't lay down until the day of her baptism. The little girl who while learning to walk wore squeaky shoes (so that way I could know where she was).

Olivia Grace, you are an unbelievable child. Sometimes I have felt a little crazed in trying to parent you. You are curious, independent, confident, fearless, creative, content, thoughtful, and kind to others.


You are a gift that I did not deserve. I am thrilled that you are my daughter.

 I pray that I am a mother that gives you wings to fly, allows you to express your deep heart, encourages you to run to the arms of your Savior, teaches you to love & to fully live in the world, helps you to see the beauty in the people and nature that are all around us.

Has it already been five years? Already you seem so big, so ready to take on the world, to conquer it with your love and imagination (and a little bit of sass). Already you don't need me all the time.

I pray that you become a woman of God, that in every action people know and see the feet and hands and face of Christ. I pray that you have a heart of compassion, lips of prayer and praise, hands of service, and feet that feel free enough to dance and move as the Lord calls.

I am so thankful for you. You are absolutely one of God's immeasurable gifts.

Happy Birthday, Olivia!

January 11--The Goal

So, January 11 has come and gone.

And Eric and I still remain speechless at what God has done through his people.

I don't really know how to say thank you in an adequate way. The words that I wrote (and am still writing) thank you notes don't seem to say enough.

God has used you to encourage Eric and I through some very difficult and discouraging days this past month. Thank you!

January 11th was the date that Lifesong set as a goal date for our fundraising. Our goal was to raise $2500 from family and friends to match a $2,500 grant from Lifesong. On January 11th, we had been given gifts from friends and family totaling well above the goal.

I get very choked up when I think about that. Isn't God good? Every gift, every giver, every amount is precious to us.

To understand what this means to us, I think there needs to be a bit of explaining. In the past few weeks our case worker shared with us her belief that we will not be able to adopt siblings from Lesotho because she has never seen what we are asking for. The week after that news, she suggested that we consider switching countries and now adopt from Uganda where we could adopt two non-related children at once, thus fulfilling our heart's desire. After much prayer and discussion, we have decided to remain true to our original call and intent, understanding that it may take longer than we had originally desired and we still may not have siblings come into our home.

When we add up the gifts we were given, the grant, and our current savings, we have enough to pay our next payment to adopt 2 children for Lesotho. This little bit of math is confirmation for me. (Although, the cynic in me says: yes, but the gifts you were given will also pay the fees for one child as well.)

We are so blessed. We hold tight to God's promises and our heart's desire.

Thank you!

P.S. Our next big financial item will be plane tickets and travel costs, which are about $2500 per person right now. Any gift made to Lifesong on our behalf is ours to use until we have reached the full amount of all adoption and travel expenses. Any amount raised above this will go to assist other families in the adoption process.