Potato Harvest

Potato Harvest    

It was a beautiful coolish, sunny day (still drought-y out there).  Perfect for potato harvest.  Potato harvest feels a little bit like Christmas.  You can watch the potato plants growing - sometimes they yellow, sometimes they flower, sometimes they are green and lush and you just know that there is magic happening.  That's what happened this year.  The potato plants just kept growing and growing despite 115 degree temperatures and drought.  My expectations were high and my excitement was that of opening a long-anticipated gift.  

It's always fun and somewhat magical to dig up potatoes. This year it was slightly less fun as the soil took more "busting" than usual due to dryness. I try to work methodically so that I don't accidentally pierce the potatoes or lose any of the small ones.  Large potatoes go into storage.  Small potatoes go back to the garden shed for re-planting.  

Potato skin is somewhat delicate when first emerging from the soil.  I accidentally scraped a few when trying to remove dirt clods.  The skin will toughen as the potato cures.  Potatoes prefer to cure in the cool and shade.  I usually give them a quick bath to remove most of the dirt but try to resist any sort of scrubbing.  They will need to cure for about 2 weeks in a well-ventilated area.  A garage or a basement works nicely if you have one. 

After curing, you can store in a cool, dry place (not your refrigerator) for winter.  As with all stored produce, check regularly for any signs of rot.  It is quite unpleasant to find a box of liquified potatoes.  I used to store potatoes and onions on the floor of my pantry and then I read that that is not a good combo.  Onions will actually cause them to begin sprouting.  Instead, I read to store them with an apple.  I have not yet tried this trick out as my potatoes seem to store just fine on their own in the garage.  

To check out a picture of my suburban potato harvest for 2021, click on the link below. 

Potatoes on Instagram 

To finish out my day in the garden, I added compost to the spot the potatoes came out and planted cabbage and peas. 

Candy or Fruit?

 

Candy or Fruit?

My big kiddos are 9 and 11 so this year for Lent we let them think about what they might like to fast from.  Dad and I usually fast from semi-difficult things… screens… soda… snacks and desserts... so I was interested to hear what they might suggest. 

First suggestion – sleep.  Well…  that’s not gonna work.  Next – school, chores, homework – you get the picture.

We asked them to think about what would really be meaningful to them to mark the season.  The purpose of a fast is to draw attention away from the ho-hum-drum of life and bring attention to the bigger, spiritual picture happening (usually in the background) of our lives.

Finally, they landed on … candy… and fruit.

Fruit?!?  “That’s a goofy thing to give up,” their aunt said.

But is it?

It was incredibly interesting (and awe-inspiring) to see these two navigate their Lenten season – sticking to their chosen fast through daily life and special events.

My daughter chose candy.  Now candy is not usually an everyday thing – it’s meant to be a special treat.  She could still have candy on Sundays (typically a rest-day from Lent) but she politely and determinedly passed-over candy during birthday parties, sleep – overs, even in school when the teacher handed out lollipops for the kids to suck on while they took their standardized tests.  For two days she brought home cotton candy flavored dumdums (her favorite!) and asked me to keep them safe for her until Sunday. She was very stalwart.

My son chose fruit.  At first, I think he may have been trying to get out of eating a portion of his daily fruit and veggies.  But, that’s the thing – he chose to fast from something that would affect him DAILY!  So while his aunt scoffed, he soldiered on…  not eating the “fun” fruit that we get at birthday parties (kiwis and raspberries and pineapple) …  eating red peppers and lettuce with breakfast instead of oranges and apples.  I can save candy for sister to eat on Sunday but saving kiwi and raspberries is a different story; their shelf life is less predictable.

So, who made the better choice?

I am super-proud of both of them.  For the most part, it was left up to them to keep their commitment.  There was no badgering or loop-holing on my part. I would help them explain their dietary restrictions when we ate at a new place but then I left it up to them to monitor what went in their mouths.  Often, they remembered better than I did, “mom, I can’t have that.”  I don’t think they broke their fast once!  Pretty impressive.  And, even more importantly, I think it made a spiritual impact on them as well.  Choosing to abstain, especially in tempting situations and away from mom’s eye, showed them the meaning of commitment and follow-through.  I pray that God blesses them for their courageous faithfulness.  

January - Time for a Frog Party!

 

Pacific chorus frog (Pseudacris regilla)

 

You may not have heard them last night because of the gusty wind-storm but the frog were having their annual party.  They did not care that a storm was blowing – it’s nearly mid-January and the night was warm enough to socialize. 

 

We have a wetland behind our house, man-made but effective at attracting various amphibians.  One of the most-easily attracted is the Pacific treefrog.  This frog doesn’t hibernate, it finds a sheltered place to hunker down and wait for warm nights to emerge and sing.  I have found these guys in flowerpots, between deck boards and under grill covers.  One time, deciding to be brave and grab an out-of-place object in my dark shed, I surprised us both when the object turned out to be a squishy tree frog (thankfully I had grabbed gently). 

These frogs congregate in wet places on warm nights and begin their annual chorus to attract mates.  From a distance, they sound like lovely crickets.  If you are ever fortunate to be amongst the chorus, the sound is a deafening cacophony.  The males are singing to attract mates and defend territory.  Females will lay eggs in wet areas (even if these areas are dry by summer) and males will fertilize them.

What can you do to help these little guys?

Unfortunately, amphibians are one of our most sensitive land-animals.  Their skin is especially susceptible to poisons and toxins and they are prey to cats, dogs, and invasive turtles, frogs and fish!  The first thing you can do is protect areas that are wet this time of year.  Keep them un-mowed and preferably fenced to reduce predation by house-pets.  If a wet area is on your property, you can even enhance the habitat by leaving fallen leaves and adding stumps and sticks.  One of the biggest things you can do, however, is to be mindful of what you are adding to your lawn, flowerbeds or streets that have storm drains.  Fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides and things leaking from cars will enter waterways via storm drains and affect amphibian habitat.  Especially during Oregon’s rainy season (when it is cold and plant growth is slow) avoid adding fertilizers, herbicides and pesticides as these will not be taken into plant tissue very quickly and will mostly end up in our local waterways. 

You can find out more info at these websites:

Department of Fish and Wildlife (Oregon)

https://www.dfw.state.or.us/wildlife/living_with/docs/LWW_Pacific_Treefrog_final.pdf     

https://myodfw.com/wildlife-viewing/species/frogs-and-toads

Crazy- Christmas Story of Hope

 Advent... day 5

https://www.instagram.com/p/CIWLbuFFDR0/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

Imagine the holy family on Christmas morning.  Take a close look.  Zoom in to the parents, tired but excited by the miracle of birthing a new life.  They have no idea what they are getting into.
Do we ever?

Today's crazy Christmas thought... imperfect humans raising God's son.

Once upon a time, God made a perfect world, put his children into it, and the kids messed it up.

I can relate, can you?

But... like a good parent, God used those children to slowly (and clumsily) clean up the mess and make it right.

God could easily have said, "forget it, I'm going to do it myself," wiped the slate clean, and started over. But he didn't. He chose, and still chooses, to use us, imperfect humans to do his important work.

The thing is, we can't be perfect. But we can be perfected.
Through partnership.

Mary didn't decide to buck-up and create a baby savior. She partnered. She participated. She submitted (oh, how we hate that word!).
But that is how the work gets done.
That is how this mess gets clean.
That is how we go from rejected to reconciled.

That is God's crazy story of hope. That we don't have to be perfect, we only have to be willing.

Next time you pass a nativity, take an extra look at those two parents- imperfect but jumping into the deep end (willingly).

#crazychristmasstory #advent #advent2020 #welcomechristmas #hope #imperfecthumans #imperfectbutwilling #willingness #pouredoutlife

Love Cannot be Silent

Today is the 4^th of July and instead of my typical red-white-and blue garb, I choose a dark shirt featuring a dove breaking out of some kind of biding and the phrase, “Love Cannot Be Silent.” I wear this shirt intentionally and excitedly today (I love the 4^th of July) but also with a good measure of self-consciousness.  Not the least of which is because, as my literal husband and son would point out, the statement is simply not true.  Jesus displayed the greatest love by going faultless and sinless to the cross (Acts 8:32).  Secondly, silent is exactly the posture I intend to take:  silent in solidarity (with those who need justice) and silent in humility – ready to listen, ready to mourn the atrocities of the past and present.

But I fully believe at the same time the statement “love cannot be silent” is powerful and true.

The organization who sold the shirt is called Preemptive Love Coalition and their whole schtick is to go into war zones and depressed areas and to intentionally meet the needs of the oppressed, marginalized, and forgotten – especially refugees. 

So I bought and wear the shirt because I believe in the sentiment behind it.  True and acceptable religion is this – to care for widows and orphans (James 1:27).  When I become aware of wrongs, injustice, oppression, those in need, then what is the role of love?  Do I pass by on the other side of the road?  Or do I act?  Do I remain comfortable and “unaffected?”  Or do I get a stranger’s blood on me pulling him from the ditch? (Luke 10:30-37).  To the one who has been given much, much will be expected (Luke 12:48). 

And so I am urged to act and to stand.  Against what is wrong.  With those who need defending.  And I cannot remain comfortable and “unaffected.” 

Love cannot be silent.

                When the ice caps melt

                When refugees are starving

                When children are sold

                When wages are unfair

                When food systems cheat

                When race brings discrimination

Seek justice.  Love mercy.  Walk humbly. (Micah 6:8)

We need to grow comfortable with being uncomfortable.

And yet, fired up, my self-consciousness returns. 

The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak (Matthew 26:41).  Reality sets in. I am a hypocrite to myself.  Because as I don my statement-shirt, ready to take a stand for justice and mercy, my flesh fails.  I am asked to send a birthday card to a Sunday School teacher, visit sick grandpa, do a favor for a family member.  UUUUhhhhhgggggghhh……

How can I stand against oppression when I struggle to care for the orphans and widows in my own world? 

Maybe knowing and seeing my hypocrisy is a good first step.  Maybe recognizing that the most eloquent post, most well-researched thesis, most sacrificial giving is nothing if I can’t mail a birthday card (1 Corinthians 13:1-3). 

“Dear children, let us not love with word or speech but with action and in truth” (1 John 3:18).

Lord, let me be faithful with the little things (Matthew 25:23).

Love cannot be silent.  Love must be faithful.

And so though we stand words silent, in solidarity, let our attitudes and actions SPEAK VOLUMES!

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Year of Small

This year, God has been speaking to me about the small life.  I don’t want to call it small though, because that has a negative connotation.  Small does not mean that your reach is small or your impact is small.  To me, small is reducing your external hubbub – frenzy, activity, extensions – to increase your internal activity - growth, nurturing self, investing in relationships.

At the end of 2018, I started pruning things out – activities, groups, projects.  And it felt good.  More space to breathe again.  In January, I started committing to writing – 5 days a week, I try for at least 30 minutes, 2 hours is ideal.  In January, I also traditionally vision for the new year.  This year, God gave me the image of Mother Teresa – talk about small life, big reach.  What did she say? 

“It is easy to love the people far away. It is not always easy to love those close to us. It is easier to give a cup of rice to relieve hunger than to relieve the loneliness and pain of someone unloved in our own home. Bring love into your home for this is where our love for each other must start.

The greatest disease in the West today is not TB [Tuberculosis] or leprosy; it is being unwanted, unloved, and uncared for. We can cure physical diseases with medicine, but the only cure for loneliness, despair and hopelessness is love. There are many in the world who are dying for a piece of bread but there are many more dying for a little love…

At the end of life we will not be judged by how many diplomas we have received, how much money we have made, how many great things we have done. We will be judged by “I was hungry and you gave me to eat. I was naked and you clothed me. I was homeless and you took me in.” (Matthew 25:35)

Changing the world was not her goal.  Loving those in front of her was her goal, her mission, her passion.  And through her devotion to love those close to her, her simple actions had a world-wide ripple effect.  That is the small-life I seek.

Sometimes, I struggle to feel that what I’m doing, how I’m spending my time, is making any impact whatsoever (Enneagram 4 anyone?).  My culture is all about your “brand,” how the wide-world perceives you.  What platforms are you on?  Who are you influencing?  How many likes did you get?

The small life is teaching me that the time and energy I spend investing on my internal self is just as important, if not more important, than the time and energy I spend investing on my external self. 

And God is confirming that for me again and again. 

What a great God we serve.

And so, here we are in April and my family is downsizing our outside-life. 

Ironic?

 Significant? 

Guided by a cosmic force? 

And the peace I have is comforting; and the trust I have that God’s got an awesome plan for my life is humbling and exciting.  My inner-self is not screaming, “NO, you can’t loose your yard, your identity is in the garden, you will loose yourself!”  In fact, I’m thinking, “This will be such a great opportunity to explore how my green thumb expresses itself in a smaller setting.  I’m content having a ‘normal’ suburban yard.  Not everyone can have a giant yard and that’s ok.” 

This is so unlike me.  I am amazed. 

And then, my God is so kind to me… I see posts like this:

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bw4iSnIl5ix/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
“Whether you are a gardener, a farmer, or the manager of a park or nature reserve, you can take action to protect and restore habitat.”  - Scott Hoffman Black, Xerces Society Executive Director

and

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bw0jag-Arq3/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

“In our molecules and in our dreams, we are what we eat. Eating close to home is not just a matter of convenience – it is an act of deeply sensual, cultural and environmental significance.  – Gary Nabhan

To me, these words remind me that my identity is not rooted in my love of gardening and my knowledge of fruits and vegetables and my passion for food use.  My identity is not my brand or my self-made persona.  I can release all that into God’s hands because he is trustworthy and because MY IDENTITY IS ROOTED IN HIM and who he says I am! 

Here are some other encouraging posts about the small life.  May they encourage you to focus less energy on your external self and more energy on your internal self.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bv-Vc2tlgx0/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

“Live for the things most meaningful – and your life will be the most beautiful.” – Ann Voskamp

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bv_y9rZA--h/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

“Your to-do list is worthless if it’s at the cost of driving a destructive need-to-get-it-all-done bulldozer all over everyone who you love and care about.” – Lyndsey Garber

https://www.instagram.com/p/Bvoz_ScADsS/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link

“JOMO (noun) – Joy of Missing Out. Feeling content with staying in and disconnecting as a form of self-care.  Antonym: FOMO”  - Brene Brown

2 Corinthians 4:16-17 New International Version (NIV)

¹⁶ Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. ¹⁷ For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.

He Will Guide Your Steps

The house I was excited about smelled like cigarette smoke.  Our realtor smelled it, we smelled it, we went outside for 5 minutes and came back in and smelled it even stronger.  Our realtor advised us that it is really, really hard to get smoke-smell out.  It’s in every soft surface – walls, ceilings, rugs, etc.  Strange thing, the owners don’t smoke.   

If it hadn’t smelled like smoke, we might have put in an offer.  My husband said he was trying really hard to be as excited about it as I was.  I LOVED the neighborhood – cute, wide, quiet streets, literally a 5 minute walk to a really cool playground – with bathrooms!  A great straight-shot 15 minute commute for him.  And everyone gets a bedroom!

But… it really did smell like smoke - that acrid smell that hits you when you enter a room. 

That was Friday.  Monday we went to look at one I had seen at an open house back in February.  I remember walking in, being unimpressed with the 4^th bedroom (no carpet, small closet) and thinking, this is a good house for people who want to see nature but not be outside (the backyard is less than tiny, but it backs up to a green space).  But this time, I walked in and thought – doable, doable, all doable.  Funny how your real estate perspective can change in three months.  The kids were excited – everyone gets their own bedroom and they stay at the same school.  The husband was excited – our bedroom is gigantic and on the other side of the house from the kids.   And there is nothing better on the market at this time.  So, we put in an offer. 

Inspection was Friday.  I give earnest money tomorrow.  Looks like a move is coming. 

We are leaving our giant yard and giant garden.  We are passing-on our chickens and re-homing our big dog.  The cats are coming with, but there’s no guarantee that they will stick around.  They may not adapt to the in-town life.  We are down-sizing our outside-life.  … and we’re all ok with it.

The funny thing is that it’s become trendy lately to buy land out in the country and start a mini-farm.  Homesteading (#homestead) some are calling it.  I have a friend who moved here last year from the city.  She and her husband and 3 kids bought 20 acres in the country and moved.  They have cows, peacocks, chickens, goats, llamas, bees…  and she loves it.  A bit ironic that “outsiders” can afford to start a farm in the neighborhood but those of us from the valley can’t.  I guess that’s just the way it goes.  If she can afford it and loves it, more power to her.  I will move into town and take a few years off from the mini-farm life.  A Sabbath is good for everyone – even farmers. J

Provision

Today I feel peace.  I feel thankful and provided for.  I feel that God is looking out for me and my family. 

What have we been praying?  “God,put us into the house you have chosen for us.” 

A few weeks ago, our offer was accepted but we backed out before the earnest money was given (a story for another time).

Sunday we were going to put in an offer but we were 4 hours too late.

Today we were going to go back to a house we had previously considered and probably put in an offer but found out this morning that last night, they accepted an offer. 

Why would that make me feel thankful and provided for?  Because it makes me feel like God is directing our path.  He is leading us somewhere specific.  I don’t think God always does this, but in this case, I really do.  There is somewhere specific we are supposed to be and we are being protected from pairings that would not be ideal.  I love that.

Last night, my little boy woke up at 3am yelling from a dream (not uncommon).  Usually I can get back to sleep after 15 minutes or so.  But last night as soon as I was conscious, I started thinking about the house we were to see today.  I thought about it for an hour before I finally got out of bed. Then I thought about it some more. 

Something about the frenzy of my mind must have convicted me because I had a little “talk” with myself.  “You know, you’ve been saying for weeks that you need to ‘chill your buns’ on this house hunting.  You keep saying that but then you gear all the way up again being obsessive and scheming.  You’re getting worn out.  Your family is getting worn out.  And this is turning into one of you ‘plan your way to the goal’ efforts that you know doesn’t work for you.  What have you learned?  You need to put more of your ACTIVE energy into pursuing God – praying, reading, waiting, listening.  And you need to ‘chill your buns’ on trying to scheme your way to an ideal future.”

Then I remembered Jesus.  Ya, him.  What did he say when he was hanging on the cross?  “Father, into your hands, I commit my spirit.” (Luke 23:46).  This is from Psalm 31 and the verse right before it (verse 4) says, “keep me from the trap that is set for me.”  Sometimes, a house can be a trap.  That is one of our big fears.  Since this is our first house, we don’t want to be in a house-trap where we can’t afford the payments or the repairs or can’t resell it when the time comes.  But God is proving faithful over and over  and keeping us from the traps set.

Once again, I fully realize how shallow it sounds to compare my house-search struggle with Jesus’ sacrifice or with the psalmist fleeing from him enemies.  #whitepeopleproblems #firstworldproblems  I get it, I know.  But, guess what?  God cares about my white-people, first-world problems too!  He does.  He’s big enough to care for the orphan and the oppressed and find me an awesome place to live.  That’s the amazing love of our God.  Giver of good gifts (James 1:17)!

Now, my mind is hyperactive (though the rest of me is NOT!).  And one thing that calms my over-active brain is a good mantra.  When I start to swirl, I redirect the brain pathways.  I refocus.  So my mantra became, “Into your hands I commit my spirit.”  And it snapped me out of my scheming tail-spin. 

I tell you what – not an hour later I found out that the house I had been obsessing over since the wee hours was pending. 

THAT’s when I felt grateful.  That’s when I felt provided for. 

God is so dang faithful.  Faithful beyond our human capacity.  He knows!  He knows our dang corrupted hearts. He KNOWS my propensity to over-plan instead of trust and wait.  And like a kind Father, he disciplines me.  He waits.  And when I bend my knee and my heart, he acts. 

Look at the Moravian Daily Text I received today…

Maundy Thursday

Watchword for Maundy Thursday — He has gained renown by his wonderful deeds; the Lord is gracious and merciful. Psalm 111:4

Thursday, April 18 — Psalm 51:1–6
Job 22,23; 1 Corinthians 3:1–11

Mortals look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart. 1 Samuel 16:7

The Lord turned and looked at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the cock crows today, you will deny me three times.” And he went out and wept bitterly. Luke 22:61-62

Lord, you see the whole of us. Polish our inmost hearts so that we shine with your love and claim you as our Lord. We pray in your most holy name. Amen.

My heart is in need of some serious polishing.

I am Peter.  I look so good on the outside.  I sound good – I will stand by you Lord!  I will die with you!  But a few hours later… I break Jesus’ heart and the cock crows.  That is me.  Again and again. 

I had coffee planned with a friend this morning.  I was grateful for a chance to get out of my neighborhood, into the sunshine.  I was thankful to have someone else to focus on for a while.  I turned my yearning for a house into prayers for others.  So many (everyone in fact) need prayers- we all have yearnings and longings, hurts and sufferings.

On the way home, I drove by one house that had been on the edge of my radar.  It’s nothing fancy.  It’s priced well, a good size, a good location, a decent neighborhood.  We don’t really have time to see it this weekend.  But, you know what?  I’m actuallyexcited about it.  A peaceful excited, not a scheming excited.  I think because I am leaning into God now and have (maybe temporarily) put aside my scheming, I’m finally able to relax a bit and stop pushing.  We’ll see how long that lasts.

Into your hands, I commit my spirit…

Pretty as a Picture

It occurs to me that folks may actually want to hear more about adoption and less about my housing crisis (ok, it’s not really a crisis, it just feels big and I’m being a bit dramatic about it). So here’s a bit more about adoption.

Adoption is a beautiful thing. 

There are children out there, through no fault of their own, in need of a home; a forever family.  There are families out there, like mine, who have the square feet, the mental and emotional energy, and the space in their life to extend themselves and absorb such a child into their family. 

Care for the orphans and widows is pure and faultless religion (James 1:27).

We have two biological children.  We had always talked about adding to our family after 2 bio kids through adoption.  Both I and my husband have adoptive cousins.  We are also both environmentally-minded and though it may sound kind of dumb to you, not adding to the expanding human population past creating our own replacements is a value we hold (some adults have even signed pledges to reduce the world’s population by not having biological kids).  So, because we have always had this plan, our kids have heard about it since day 1.  They were on-board with the adoption plan.  It affects the family as a unit; it’s something we took on as a unit.   

Remember the movie Lilo and Stitch (Disney 2002)?  In this film, an alien (Stitch) falls from the sky and comes in contact with a little girl (Lilo), an orphan, being taken care of (poorly) by her older sister.  The theme of the movie is Ohana – family – which, according to Wikipedia (2019) is part of Hawaiian culture with the intended meaning to include blood-related or adoptive famliy and in-laws, friends, and neighbors.  The idea being that we are bound together and everyone must work together and not forget each other.

Beautiful, right? 

We’re all connected; we’re Ohana.  We need to care for each other.  We can’t forget each other.  Can you say, “Kingdom of God?” 

Acts 2:44-47 New Living Translation (NLT)

⁴⁴ And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had.⁴⁵ They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need. ⁴⁶ They worshiped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord’s Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity^. 47 all the while praising God and enjoying the goodwill of all the people. And each day the Lord added to their fellowship those who were being saved.

But, but, but, but…  BUT.   There’s a big but here.

As with the perfectly planned Christmas morning… it sounds good; but it ain’t gonna go the way you think. 

People are… human.

We are grouchy.  We are selfish.  We say things we shouldn’t. We don’t share. We like to c.o.n.t.r.o.l.

So, yes, Ohana is beautiful and adoption is a beautiful thing (big picture). But in the day-to-day.  It’s tough.  It’s draining.  It’s tiring. It’s ugly at times.

I always thought I was emotionally mature and aware enough that when that sweet little Stitch fell from the sky and crashed into my house, I’d be able to embrace him and his differences and love him fully and completely.

But, in real life, when little Stitch fell from the sky and crashed into my house… I was not a happy camper.  No one is really ok with small aliens crashing into their house.  Ok, no, no, not fair.  Some people are ok with small aliens crashing into their house.  I was not.  I am not ok with small aliens crashing the house, breaking the toaster, eating all the food, running amok.  This is something I have learned about myself.  The problem is, small aliens do not know that they are being so inconsiderate.  So, I felt invaded, 24 hours a day (‘cause small aliens don’t sleep well either) but with no way to explain ‘courtesy’ to an alien. 

Does that mean that I have changed my mind and no longer think adoption a beautiful thing?  Did I make a huge mistake? 

No.

Adoption is still a beautiful thing.  It is still a very-really, tangible, way to show God’s love here, now, in an important way to a vulnerable member of society.  But I also have a lot of realism.  Big-picture, adoption is beautiful.  Day-to-day, it is a mess!

We all have baggage.  Adopted kids have a monogrammed set.  It’s just part of the deal. 

When people say, “Oh, this is such a great thing you guys are doing.”

I think, “hmm, if only you saw me pulling my hair out and screaming like a crazy person yesterday.”

I guess that’s a lot of motherhood though.  Babies are sweet and cute but 2am diaper changes and bleeding nipples are not.  Adoption just brings with it a special set of flies in the ointment.  Maybe next time I’ll let you know about some of the special flies.

Waiting and Choosing

Every day I check the internet to see if there are any new house listings.  Ok, maybe more than once a day.  I may be a bit obsessive.  Plus, they made an app, people.  I can check it on my phone! 

Every day I check for new listings and usually there is nothing new.  Or, something new - momentary excitement -  that is not a good fit.  Two bedroom?  No thank you (I wish). 

The sensation is expectancy, a bit of doubt, a bit of realism, and then some disappointment. 

It reminds me of something…

It reminds me of last year (2018), about this same time, when I would check the Oregon State website: Oregon Adoption Resource Exchange.  This is the closed website that displays all the legally-free, adoptable children in the state of Oregon.

I would check it every day.  I would try really, really hard not to check it more than once a day.  I would search, altering the parameters.  What if the kid for me is just outside of my filters?  What if they are not 1-4 years old?  What if they are 11 months old?  What if they are older than that?  Maybe I should consider a 9 year old. I would read and consider and email our case worker, “what about XYZ?  What does ‘would do best as an only child’ mean?” 

I made lists, I took notes, I thought about what life would be like with each child and I submitted our name for consideration.  I prayed and yearned and prayed again.

We ended up submitting for 5 children and were selected to go to committee for 2.  That means the child’s case worker wanted us to be one of three families considered for the adoption of that child.  We could possibly have gone to committee for both, but thought that one was probably enough and also that one was actually a better fit for us than the other. 

God had a plan.

The child we ended up with was not the child I had imagined (I have been very transparent about this).  I tried really hard not to have expectations and yet… I inadvertently envisioned a quiet, 4 year old girl with dark hair – potty trained… loves to read...  Ok, ok, I failed at not creating expectations.  But we said again and again, “God, we want the child you have picked out for us.  We want you to choose.  Lead us to that child.”

And now we have 2 year old, bouncy, talkative (oh man, talkative), smiley, overly-friendly (never met a stranger), M.  And we have been assured and confirmed in myriad ways, that he is the child God wanted for our family.  Not the child we would have chosen given a line-up, but the child that was meant for our family (and vice versa).  That is more than a comfort.  That is a blessed assurance.

Already But Not Yet

Already but not yet is a theological concept the internet tells me was developed by Gerhardus Vos early in this century (thank you internet).  It’s the idea that the kingdom of God is both already come (present) and not yet here (future).  Today you will be with me in Paradise says Jesus to the thief on the cross (Luke 23:43).  And yet… here we are… 2000 years later and time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future (Steve Miller Band, 1976).  But the work is done.  Jesus has conquered death, we have entered into a new reality of freedom from the law – we’re there!  But… also, not quite yet. 

It’s not the only paradox in Christianity. 

If this is still not making 100% sense to you, I had an already but not yet experience today that may help.

I really want to buy a house, right, we’ve already covered this.  So, I am seeing my current house as if we are moving in, like, 30 days.  I’ve scheduled a big yard sale at the end of April and that has me in over-drive to get enough items to make the sale worthwhile.  My eyes scan my house continually looking for items to purge. 

“Do I love this picture?  Nah, sell it.”  Marie Kondo and Niecy Nash would be proud of me.

So I am ALREADY in move-mode.  I’m cleaning out the freezer and the pantry. I’m not planting summer crops (yet).  I’m keeping my schedule open.  I am ready.  I am there.  I am motivated.  I am mentally, emotionally already moving. 

But NOT YET.

The not yet comes because I don’t actually have a house to move into yet.  I’m anticipating. I’m prepared.  But I don’t have an actual destination yet.

This reminds me so much of the kingdom of God!  I know Jesus has conquered death.  I know I’m headed to eternity with him.  I am anticipating it.  I am ready for it.  I am expecting it. But I’m not there yet.

In the meantime, what do I do?  I look around; I live life with kingdom eyes.  Instead of looking for stuff to purge and pack, I’m looking for people to love.  Instead of trying to empty the pantry, I’m asking myself how can I seek justice, love mercy and walk humbly (Micah 6:8)?

The kingdom of God is HERE – it is in the people who love and serve God!  And it is coming soon!