A Fickle Gut

A short post today. This is what I was thinking about in the wee early hours as I lay in bed...

My gut is broken.

And by gut, I don't mean my intestinal insides that be can fixed by changing my diet and ingesting more probiotics, or my changes in appetite throughout the nine months of pregnancy. I mean the instinct inside me that is supposed to guide me through life. Somewhere along the way, during my childhood years, between moving so often, being bullied, not feeling affirmed enough, growing up in the Chinese tradition–a myriad of things–my "guide" broke.

Sometimes "following your gut" is a good thing, but in my case, I would be in a world of trouble, because my gut is not always trustworthy. 

I would take my small revenge–my gut tells me,"You deserve it. He/she owes it to you."

I would be fearful of everything–my gut says, "Something out there will hurt you or your child."

I would doubt myself all the time–my gut whispers, "Don't try it. You'll probably fail." or "Rita, you made a mistake... again."

I would avoid conflict–my gut screams, "Run away! Protect yourself!"

We are broken people living in a broken world. Life happens–the good and the bad–and most of the time, my jerk reaction to the bad is just not reliable. This is a lesson I need to learn again and again: trust in the Word, trust the Holy Spirit's promptings, and trust people I know in the family of God. When I get lax and overly confident in my own abilities, I go with my emotions; then without realizing it, I may choose to take the easy route, the route of self-preservation. But that route is not always the right route. 

Overriding my natural responses and emotions is not easy. It's an uncomfortable place to be–sometimes it's downright painful!–but it's better than listening to the fickleness of my gut.

Surprises From God

I'll cut to the chase. We're expecting Baby #9 in October.

When I had my first prenatal appointment, the doctor asked what is now a routine question, "Was this a planned pregnancy?"

I said, "No, not exactly."

"And you plan to keep this baby?"

"Yes," I answered, when what I really wanted to say was, "HECK YES!" (pardon my language)

Before the baby was bigger than a grape, before we found out if the baby is a boy or a girl (it's a girl!), before I ever saw her wiggling on the ultrasound, I cared for this human.

My husband and I were not expecting another child. After all, I'm 44 years-old. My youngest is now 5. I had become really good at tracking my ovulation cycle, and then...

God surprised us.

And this all happened RIGHT BEFORE the opening of my musical. Not the best timing.

And yet, it was my musical that helped me wrap my head (and heart) around this surprise.

I didn't expect to get pregnant, just as I didn't expect to write a musical. And if I saw Five Children and It as a gift from God, entrusted to me to bring to fruition and share with the world, how much more can this child be a gift?! God surprised me with 3+ years of working on a musical, and if I said "No" to him at the start, I would have never experienced the joy that the musical brought me. And that is how I see this child. There will be years of work involved, but the joys will outshine the work.

Children, ALL children, are a gift. It sounds clichéd, but I must say it, because I hear parents, Christians and non-Christians alike, complain about their children. Some people (Christians and non-Christians alike) think I'm crazy to have nine children. They see children as a chore and an inconvenience. I admit that in my younger years, I would have been whining to God at this point, "How am I going to handle another one? When will I have time to do the things I want to do?" 

But children are people, and we need to fight the urge to think of the people in our lives as "inconveniences." Let us love as God loves us; we are God's children, and we are NEVER an inconvenience to Him. 

A Musical is Born! -Part 17- The End?

The cast recordings are not yet done. We spent 2 days–nearly 8 hours–in the studio getting every cast member on the recording. Now it's time to edit, balance, fix, and maybe add some instruments (everything was sung to piano only.)

And I still need to update the script, librettos, and all scores to reflect the changes we made in perfecting the show. I want to have the new scripts, scores, and recordings ready for another theater group. I would love for Five Children and It to live on on other stages. And I would love to see the other versions of it!

As I reflect back on the whole process, I am still in awe. I feel like the show was handed to me... I opened my hand to receive it, and there it was. Not that I didn't spend hours at the piano searching for the perfect "magic" sound, or restless nights working out a stubborn lyric in my mind, but I feel like the pieces came together so effortlessly. I can't really tell you how it happened! God gave me a mind that can solve musical/theatrical puzzles! Where I was doubting myself months ago (constantly asking myself, "Is this good? Will people like it?") now I know that I have a good sense of balance, pacing, and musical lines. Something I didn't know about myself a year ago! (which goes to show that life doesn't stop when you have kids or when you turn 40! There are always opportunities to learn and try something new. I say, go through those doors, especially when God is inviting you to do so!)

And I am still in awe of the community that came around me. This musical was like my heart on my sleeve. There was a bit of me in every character. All the "Lessons Learned" were lessons I had learned in my life, and hope that my children will learn. That was what I wanted to give the world–beautiful, Godly life lessons presented in a format that made it easier to digest. "A spoonful of sugar," as Mary Poppins would sing. I really wanted the show to be more than just entertaining. And everyone, from my artistic team members to the actors to the parents who worked behind the scenes, saw that too, and treated the musical like my newborn baby. I cannot thank them enough.

So what's next, besides all the work I still have cut out for me? Well, I have the first drafts of a script and songs for a new musical. I'm a little nervous about this one, because it's very different from Five Children and It, but I'm also so excited about. So back to step one for me! Writing, rewriting, a read-through, rewriting again... and maybe in a year or two you'll hear about the birth of another musical!

This year, as I was thinking of what verse to draw for Christmas, this is the one that kept coming to my mind. Christmas is not about the lights, it's not the presents, it's not the food. Christmas is about God giving us the one Gift that we desparately needed.

I wish you and your family a wonderful, merry Christmas!!

God and Dishes

When I was a young teen, I suddenly decided one day to wash the dishes for my mom while she was out (this was in the day before we had a dishwasher). Surprisingly, I had never washed the dishes before. My parents never taught me, or made me.

But this one day, when I saw the dishes piled in the kitchen sink, I thought it would be a nice surprise for my mom. Most likely I was prompted by a recent Sunday school lesson, something about "honoring your parents." So I did my best to wash everything and put it in the drying rack, then I waited for my mom to come home and notice.

It didn't take long for her to spot the clean dishes. 

I waited for her to come and ask me about them, which she did. But when I told her that I had washed them for her, she didn't say "thank you" as I expected her to. She said, "They're still greasy. You didn't do it right."

And I didn't wash dishes for my mom for a long time after that.

This was the memory that suddenly popped into my head as I washed the dishes this morning. I don't know why. But I see a two-fold lesson here:

1) Praise a child for doing right. There are times when quality matters, but what is more important is that the child is choosing to obey, to take initiative, or to make the attempt at something that is difficult. Rather than focusing on how well the child did the job, praise him/her for doing it to the best of his/her ability.

2) Our Father in heaven loves it when we obey Him. We hesitate because we worry about failing, but God asks us to take the first step in obedience, and He promises to guide us the rest of the way. He is the perfect Father, and He never criticizes us for not doing a good-enough job. Rather, He's the Father who asks you to do the dishes, then stands with you at the sink, gets His hands dirty, and cleans three plates for every spoon you clean (and the rest of the kitchen besides!)

No More Excuses

In my new book, I make a lot of confessions. Here's one I didn't include:

I'm afraid to talk to new people.

This morning, as we gathered for in-person indoor worship for the first time in over a year, I was so nervous about the many new faces filling the sanctuary. I wanted to stick close to people I knew, or busy myself with something and avoid eye contact. Just the thought of talking to someone new makes my heart race, my palms sweat, and my mind go blank. 

And I used to let that be my excuse.

"I'm just shy. That's who I am."

"They don't want to talk to me. I'll wait for someone to come over to me."

"It's easier to hang out by the food table and keep putting food in my mouth so I don't have to talk to people."

But guess what? God still calls me to love people, to reach out, and to build community. And He has all the tools I need to grow in this arena.

No more excuses. 

So, this morning, I made it my goal to meet one new person before I left. And I did it! I walked straight up to a new person and introduced myself.

Sometimes I'm talking to parents and I hear them say things similar to what I used to say about being shy. 

"I could never do what you do."

"I just don't have the patience."

"You were meant to have eight kids. I wasn't."

There was a time when I believed these too! I would watch how another mom handled a situation and think, "I could never..."

But I have learned over the years that God calls me to be the best mom my kids can have. He has all the tools I need to grow as a parent. So whether I am getting to know my newborn, or I'm figuring out new ways to be organized, or I'm learning patience–again and again and again–God's got me covered. 

No more excuses.

(Read more about my parenthood journey in my book, Dirtying My Sleeves!)

"I need help!"

Ever since she started walking at eight months, my youngest has always acted older than her age. If she sees me vacuuming, she wants to vacuum. If I'm cutting vegetables, she wants to cut vegetables. She wants to do EVERYTHING that her siblings do.

So usually, when she insists on doing something "all by myself", I let her try, if it's not dangerous. This may mean that her shoes are on the wrong feet and her shirt is backwards (and I'm practicing my patience as she is taking soooo long to do each task), but I can see that she is growing and learning.

But there are times when I KNOW that she cannot do something, simply because she doesn't have the dexterity or the understanding at the age of three! And yet, she insists on trying to do it herself (and there is no convincing that girl.) So I let her give her all. Sometimes I'll leave the room (my daughter tells me "Go away!") or I'll just wait nearby. Then after a few minutes, I hear "Mama, I need help!"

And aren't we just the same with our Father in Heaven?

God knows that things will be difficult for us. He knows that parenting, or getting sick, or losing a job, or loving a neighbor, is a difficult task that we cannot tackle alone. So He does not leave us to do everything on our own, and yet, oftentimes, we insist on doing it "all by myself!"

And how long does it take for us to realize that we don't have the strength or the understanding? How long do I keep trying before I finally pray "God, I need help!"?

My Father is always right by me, always ready and willing to do the heavy lifting. In ALL things, big and small, He never leaves me to struggle by myself, if I only ask Him for help!

The Big "What-Ifs"

In the past two years...

a friend lost a husband,

a friend lost a wife,

a friend lost a child,

a friend lost a parent to cancer,

and a friend was diagnosed with breast cancer.

This is basically my list of the Big "What-Ifs". 

Other what-ifs aren't so scary. My husband could lose his job–no biggie, been there, done that. Our house could burn down; that's just stuff, stuff comes and stuff goes.

But to lose my husband, my child, my parent, or my health... I have to ask myself, "Would I start doubting God's love and faithfulness? Would I turn from him? or doubt his existence? How would I respond?" And these things could happen to me. Four of these five friends are my age. 

Seeing my friends go through these heart-breaking, soul-crushing times have been the most difficult thing I've ever experienced. The only thing harder would be experiencing them myself. 

But–if this is any comfort to people going through a hardship right now–it's because of my friends that I'm no longer afraid of the Big "What-Ifs." 

Because I've seen my friends go through these times, and come out the other side.

Because I've seen how their faith carried them along when they had no strength left.

Because I've seen our church family surround my friends with love and care.

And because I've seen the Savior cover them in His wings and draw them near, even when He felt the most distant and silent.

There are some changes coming in the next few months for my family, and thinking about the unknown always causes a ball of anxiety to collect in the pit of my stomach. 

But I don't have to be afraid. God is the faithful Shepherd, and through green pastures or the Valley of the Shadow of Death, He is always with me.

New Year, New Fruit

As I thought about this blog post, I realized that every January, I write something that starts with, "I don't really believe in New Year's resolutions, but..."

And it's true. I don't believe in New Year's resolutions, only because I don't believe that there is anything more magical about making a life change on January 1st than making a change on any other day of the year.

But there is something about the "tick tock" of 11:59, December 31st becoming the "tick tock" of 12:00, January 1st that makes a person think. We all hope that life will be better in the New Year–not worse, not the same, but better. The change in number marks the passage of time, and it should mark a change in us. As Ecclesiastes 3:1 (ESV) says, "For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven." The New Year is a new season. It's a new page, both literally and figuratively.

So, I was thinking about my 2021. What do I want it look like? In 2020, I have had more friends lose loved ones. My friend Sarah passed away on December 28th. She was a person I looked up to; despite enduring physical pain for most of her life, she was a beautiful, joyful soul, an amazing singer, and the best mother to her two little ones and best wife to her husband. I've also had many blessings in 2020–wonderful memories with my family, personal creative growth, and spiritual growth too. So how do I continue in this growth? In light of Sarah's passing, how do I best use the time I have left in my life? 

This is what came to mind:

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance [patience], kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. (Galatians 5:22-23 ESV)

In the past, I've prayed for more love, more joy, more patience (especially patience!) and whenever I acted unlovingly or grumpily or impatiently, I just prayed for more love, more joy, more patience! I thought that was what I needed. And really, eight of the nine things listed as the fruit of the Spirit are all things I want more of, all except... self-control.

I don't know how you feel about self-control, but it always felt a little out-of-place to me on this list. It just sounds more... blah. In a Bible passage that gives me warm fuzzies when I read it, self-control seems like something Paul just tacked on. "Oh yeah, and self-control. I'll just put it here with these other things." Love and joy and everything else make me feel more free, and self-control sounds so restrictive.

But this time, as I meditated on Galatians 3:22-23, I had this thought.

When I think of the times I've acted unlovingly or grumpily or impatiently, my regret afterwards was usually, "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have said that." All the times I've yelled at the kids, it wasn't more patience I needed, but more self-control! There is a reason Paul put self-control on the list!

I told my husband about this revelation. He got so excited about it! Why do we think of self-control in terms of how much dessert we eat on Christmas Eve or how much we drink on New Year's Eve? God practices self-control... all the time! If He didn't, all His power would be unleashed on us! And Jesus, He is described as a man of meekness. What is meekness? Strength under control. Jesus is also self-controlled!

And so I'll be making 2021 the Year of Self-Control. If I can control myself better, then I will also have more fruit of the Spirit! That thought actually gives me warm fuzzies!

How about you? Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Which would you like to focus on this year?

Grains of Sand

I reread an old post from December 2011 and found it to be encouraging, in light of my latest post. These photos show grains of sand, courtesy of Professor Gary Greenberg and his book, Grains of Sand. To our naked eyes, sand looks like tiny brown rocks. But when magnified, we can see that each grain is amazingly unique.

Not only that, some are precious gems, just so minute that we don't realize it. Can you imagine... if God can make each individual grain of sand so beautiful, how much more does He care for us? God is in even the tiniest details!

We look at sand and think of it as ordinary and unremarkable, but let us remember that oftentimes the "ordinary" can be extraordinary! We may pass our time daydreaming of doing "bigger" things, when what is important and beautiful is right under our feet: time with our children, calling an old friend, inviting a neighbor over.

Joy in the Trials

My husband is currently reading through the book of Proverbs with the family at breakfast time. A few days ago, he read this:

Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox. (Proverbs 14:4 ESV)

When I heard those words, I had to chime it.

"My version is 'Where there are no children, the house is clean, but abundant joy comes by the presence of children.'"

And boy, am I feeling this right now!

With all of us at home, playing, creating, schooling, and working, the house pretty much looks like a disaster ALL THE TIME. We have close to a hundred books checked out from the library. On top of that, my husband brought home books from his office. The little boys have been setting up trains or scenes with tiny army men on the floor. My older kids are drawing and painting and cutting up cardboard boxes. And I'm in the kitchen cooking and baking, and now, preparing for Easter treats. 

But I go back to the proverb (my version). Joy, different from happiness, is rooted in knowing that God has me in His Hands, despite my situation. My children, in their joyful, innocent, trusting way, remind me that I too can trust in my Father. 

Life does not looking normal right now, and there are times when I almost can't stand the chaos, but I can't deny that there is much joy in our house. We are healthy. The children are working on projects together. My husband has spent more time with the kids than ever before. I see the older ones playing with the younger ones, and their laughter is contagious! We may not like living in these uncertain times, in almost complete seclusion, but at the same time, I am noticing the benefits. Whereas before, I would look at the calendar in astonishment and wonder, "Where did the time go?!", I feel like I'm actually experiencing each and every day.

I remember a quote recently shared to me by a dear friend. Fanny Crosby, the blind author who penned the words to the hymn 'Blessed Assurance', wrote this about joy:

Blindness cannot keep the sunlight of hope from the trusting soul. One of the easiest resolves that I formed in my young and joyous heart was to leave all care to yesterday and to believe that the morning would bring forth its own peculiar joy.

And that is what I've been doing–looking for the day's "peculiar joy". 

And one of these joys is music making with my family. We've always had a few reluctant kids who just did NOT want to perform, but now, without the pressure of an actual audience, they are emerging from their shells. For the first time, we've been able to musically involve all the older children in some way. And we've even put our music on Youtube! You can look us up under Homespun Royale (our band's name) or click on this link to hear our version of Ms. Crosby's Blessed Assurance (which actually has all 8 kids "participating" in the video!) 

So at this time, as difficult as it may be to adjust to homeschooling, entertaining, and feeding your children around the clock, find your "peculiar joys". Make memories. Stop to take mental pictures. Thank God for this time together.

The Light in the Dark

I’m sheltering with nine people – my husband and our eight kids. By God’s grace, we have yet to have a major blowup (though no shortage of minor ones), and by God’s provision (through many kind friends), we have yet to run out of toilet paper. 

My main job right now is to break up the humdrum of our day-to-day sameness by making things “interesting” – what interesting meal can I make with what’s in the refrigerator? what interesting crafts and games can we come up with? what interesting virtual playdates and trips can I schedule for the afternoon? So far, I’ve baked apple strudel, we’ve made popsicle stick catapults, and we’ve learned a new line dance.

And that’s been the easy part! The greater difficulty is fielding the kids’ questions.

“Is anyone coming over today?”

“When can we go the library?”

“How much longer will this go on for?!?!?”

I try my best to answer their questions, doing what I can to calm their restlessness, and their hearts. Then back to “cheerleader” mode I go! Who wants to line dance?

The truth is, behind my bold front, I am just as uncertain as my children are. I don’t have the answers. I feel anxious and unsettled too. And so I go to my father, my Heavenly Father. 

James 1:17 (ESV) tells us that “every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”

During this time of uncertainty, one thing is certain. God knows what lies ahead. He is sustaining us through this time with His gifts of peace and love. He is our solace and aid. And for Him, this isn’t some bold front. He truly is, and always has been, our steady foundation, especially during shaky times. He is our hope, our light in the darkness. 

And this is no flickering candle, no glimmer in the distance, no ordinary light. This is a light that “shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5 ESV). Another favorite verse of mine says, “Even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you” (Psalm 139:12 ESV).

This feels like a time of darkness, but remember this: it is not darkness to the Father of lights. Take some time today to sit with your Heavenly Father and bask in the warmth of His light.

Thankful, Not Entitled

"You deserve it!"

All my life, I've heard this from advertisements, movies, TV shows, and well-meaning folk. I've heard it so much that now there is a voice in my head yelling it whenever I feel someone has wronged me somehow. Just this past week, after nights of coughing and bad sleep, I was impatient and grumbly with my family because I kept thinking, "I deserve a break! I deserve help! I deserve people listening to me with no question because I am sick!" Not to mention all the times when I am perfectly healthy but feel that "I deserve recognition" or "I deserve a better present" or "I deserve a nicer house."

But here's the truth: I don't deserve it. I don't deserve anything at all.

A mother loses a child. A wife loses a husband. A girl finds out she has cancer. A family loses their house. I have my children, my husband, my health, and my house. Did I do anything to deserve this? No, I am not anymore deserving than any other woman.

An attitude of entitlement is the opposite of a heart of thanksgiving. Telling myself that I deserve something, no matter how big or small that something is, only raises my expectations that people should give me what I want, and this breeds discontent, pride, and bitterness. I cannot be thankful if I don't receive everything as a gift.

And so this year, as Thanksgiving Day comes again, I am working on quieting that voice in my head in order to cultivate my heard of thankfulness. Instead of "I deserve", I tell myself "Be thankful." Be thankful for a husband who shows you love everyday, be thankful for children who are growing and learning, be thankful for a body that works with minimal pain, be thankful for a warm, safe home. 

And even if tomorrow I lose what I hold most dearly, God has given me the gift of His love and His mercy, which I can never, ever deserve. God has given me more gifts than I could have ever imagined: my family, my friends, and new mercies everyday.

The Call to Hospitality- Passing on Blessings (Part 4 of 5)

My husband and I and our friend Susan recently had an opportunity to visit the home of an Iraqi refugee. We were invited into the small apartment and offered sweet, delicious Turkish coffee. It was hot that day; there was no air conditioning in the home. The family did not own much; their furniture were most likely second-hand. But we chatted for hours and left feeling like old friends.

Sometimes I forget that hospitality doesn't depend on the size of my home, or the price of my furniture, or the food I offer my guests. I live in an area where many of the homes, inside and out, look like they could be featured on a magazine cover. I feel the pressure to impress. But as I mentioned in previous posts, biblical hospitality is not entertaining or showing off. Biblical hospitality is taking what God has given me and multiplying it by sharing it with others.

So what does that look like? My family has sit-down dinners, so we invite people join us. I sing and play the piano, so on occasion I will visit the elderly in nursing homes and play for them. When I bake, I will make an extra loaf for a neighbor. I have a car, so I can offer someone a ride. I'm not a gardener, but if you are, you can drop off a bouquet or veggies at someone’s home. If you have time while riding the airplane, chat with the person next to you instead of scrolling on your phone. If you are sitting with friends at church, invite a new person to sit with you. There are an incredible number of ways to be hospitable when we focus on what we have, more than what we don't have! And you can be hospitable in ways that I cannot!

In the first century church, Christians opened up their homes to host church meetings. They shared everything. Acts 4 says there was not a needy person among them. People noticed that Jews and Gentiles, masters and slaves, men and women, rich and poor were welcomed. They would gather for dinners that Bible scholars call "love feasts", where communion would be shared and Christ's sacrifice be remembered.

And that is what I picture heaven to be, a giant potluck where people of all different ages and backgrounds gather together to feast. We all bring something to contribute to the meal and we all partake of what others had brought. Everyone feels welcomed and loved. It's the most amazing party of ever!

That is hospitality. A bit of heaven to earth.

Hope When Days are Dark

I haven't written in a while because I didn't have the words.

After losing two friends to cancer, then finding out that our "pet" bird was put to sleep, then saying good-bye to some of my closest friends as they move across the country, then hearing that another friend's newborn has Down Syndrome and has trouble breathing and needs heart surgery, all within a month, I didn't know how to express all the thoughts and emotions in my heart and mind.

The world felt dark, and I found myself in a strange place.

Every time I went outside, I would take a breath and smile at the beauty my eyes beheld, and almost the very next second I would feel tears welling up inside me. Every time I started to sing in worship–sing songs of God's love and salvation–I choked on the words and more tears fell from my eyes. I was having a difficult time reconciling the beauty of the world with the sadness in it. And how the God of love and joy could allow this pain in our stories.

The only thing that kept me going was hope, and not the kind of hope that is really just wishful thinking (this hope disappoints), but the kind of hope that knows, the hope founded in my faith in the God of love and joy. I know that even in the darkness, a Light shines. I know that the darkness would not consume me, even as I felt crushed underneath its weight. I know that whatever happens, the baby, the move, the bird, the cancer, will lead to something good. These stories are not over. 

I don't have all the answers. I haven't stopped shedding the tears. But hope allows me to laugh and smile and continue to strive to love and heal this broken world.  

Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. 
~Hebrews 11:1

Little Ones to Him Belong

I was singing lullabies to my one-year-old when I was suddenly overwhelmed by the words coming out of my mouth.

Little ones to Him belong

They are weak but He is strong

Just the thought of the children suffering in my own neighborhood and around the world brings me to tears.

Almost every day I wish I could adopt a beautiful child from China or Africa. I wish I had the ability to do foster care or adopt domestically. God gave me eight amazing children to care for, and they surely need to be my first priority, but I wouldn't even hesitate to add to the number if I could. There are too many children out there who need a real loving family.

Just to give you an idea of how real this need is, here are some statistics about children growing up in the U.S. foster care system:

-71% of girls who age out of the system will be pregnant by the age 21
-50% of children who age out of the system will develop a substance dependence
-60% of child sex trafficking victims recovered in 2013 were children from foster care
-33% of children who age out of the system become homeless

The good news is that I have recently learned about two organizations that may allow me to help, in small ways. 

The first is Foster the Bay, a Bay Area organization that works with churches to build a support system for foster families. They started 3 years ago, when a social worker approached a group of pastors and said that there was a need for more foster families, could you help? Right now, there are twice as many foster children as there are families who can take them in. The goal of Foster the Bay is to see the number of children waiting for foster homes go down by raising awareness and help through local churches. Imagine, with the high number of churches in this area, if every church fostered one child, what a difference that would make! I attended an informational meeting this morning and I am excited to take part in the work they do! My family isn't able to foster, but we can definitely be a support for a family that will be fostering.

The second is Safe Families, a nation-wide non-profit organization that strives to keep families together by helping through the difficult times. If a parent is unable to take care of a child but has no outside support, he/she can get help through Safe Families to get counseling or rehab or rest while the child is safely, and temporarily, being taken care of. The child may stay with a host family for a weekend, or a month. The maximum length is one year and the goal is always to reunite the child with the parent. Check out the Safe Families website to see if there is a location near you.

Maybe this post will inspire you to do something that you've never thought about doing before. Look into adoption and foster care. Pray about it. Make the sacrifices. We were ourselves adopted to into God's family–what better gift then could we give a little one?

Ploughing Through

Lately, I haven't felt inspired in the kitchen. Seeing the beautiful colors in the produce aisles doesn't excite me like they used to. Even my usual sure-fire solution of checking out cookbooks from the library hasn't motivated me. And watching old episodes of Master Chef Junior only makes me feel more incompetent. 

But I keep cooking, because I have to feed my hoard of children. Spaghetti. Burrito night. Chicken stir-fry. At least that's better than fast food and less expensive than prefab meals.

I realized this morning, as I was whipping up some boring ol' scrambled eggs for breakfast, that what I'm doing it with cooking is exactly what I do with any creative endeavor. Whether it's drawing, writing, or playing music, there are times when you just "have to" do it. Creative professionals always say, "You can't wait for inspiration to hit. Your craft must become a habit, a job, a task you do even when you don't feel like it." You don't let un-inpiration stop you; you plough through it. And if you draw one thing a day, you slowly get better. If you write or edit a page a day, you do finish your novel. Somedays, you feel like you played 'Rhapsody in Blue' better than Gershwin himself; other days, you feel like you barely managed to play your scales.

The same applies to our Christian walk. In 2016 and 2017, I was in Bible studies and giving talks. So far this year, I have done none of that. I don't have the energy to ponder the deeper things of God, only the little things. And that's okay. As long as I'm faithfully walking with my Lord, I'm in good hands. He doesn't ask that I be always energetically running or joyfully skipping by His side, He only asks that I follow. 

So I'm crawling after Him right now, ploughing through fatigue, selfish thoughts, discouragement, and un-inspiration. But I know that He will provide the energy and the joy. He will draw me into the deeper things. He will be my inspiration.

Humble Like a Child

I am fascinated by babies.

I love seeing their personalities unfold, starting from Day 1.

I am awed by the way their brains learn and grow, and amused when their bodies can't keep up.

And every time I observe a baby in her helplessness–needing me to feed, clean, soothe, and love her–I clearly see a reflection of my own relationship with my Heavenly Father.

Take today, for example.


My youngest eagerly wants to grow up and copy her siblings in everything. She loves sitting at the table with us and eating her baby cereal; sometimes she is so impatient, she'll cry in between bites. This morning, as I held the food up to her open mouth, she grabbed the spoon and tried to feed herself. She did okay (though she ended up with cereal all over her face, hands, and feet even!) and happily chewed on the spoon and whatever cereal was left on it. I then tried to take the spoon from her, but her grip on it clearly told me, "No! You can't take it from me, Mama!" She didn't understand that I wanted to take the spoon only to give her more cereal! She was happy with an empty spoon, and cried when I took away what she thought was the best! 

As this was happening, I was chuckling to myself, but also thinking of how often I have fought to keep something that I thought was good, when God wanted only to give me something better. Time and time again I think I know best, or I try to be self-reliant, when I am really more like a baby than I want to admit. I need to learn that I am not, and cannot be, fully independent. I am created to need God. I am created to delight in Him as my baby delights in me. I am created to be fully at peace only when I am resting in my Father's arms. 

Jesus says, "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:3-4).

And that is easier said than done, especially for me.

I did figure out a solution to the spoon problem. I use two spoons, so the baby can contentedly chew on one while I feed her with the other.

Maybe that's what God does with me too sometimes. He lets me hold on to my little treasures, while He continues to give me what I truly need. Which shows you just how much my gracious Heavenly Father loves me.

Trading My Sorrows

My eyes filled with tears as I watched the couple slow dance to 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'. Ben, gently swaying with his arms around his wife, closed his eyes for a moment. He was fighting back tears too.

It was in that moment that I saw the pain amidst the joy, the duality that defines so much of Ben's life right now as he cares for Judy, who has Alzheimer's disease. He cherishes every smile, even when Judy isn't fully aware of her surroundings. He cherishes every word, even when Judy doesn't fully understand the conversation. And even as Ben lives with this deep pain, God has filled him with a new joy and peace that cannot be explained. When Ben is not with Judy, he is ministering to families and teaching others about Alzheimer's. 

Later, when I had a chance, I asked Ben how he has learned to manage the daily sadness of slowly losing his wife–if he has a routine or Bible verse that helps him get through the feeling when it overwhelms him.

"I don't have any one thing," Ben replied in his quiet way. "But I have learned to let myself feel the emotions."

The words struck me. I had learned at a young age to stifle certain emotions. Strength, I thought, lay in the ability to push through fear, doubt, despair, and sadness and tough it out. Why cry when I could do something about the situation? Why feel sadness when sadness hurts so much?

But as I recently discovered, sometimes crying is pushing through. Last summer, when I found out that I was expecting Baby #8, fear crept into my heart. But I didn't address the fear; I only told myself, "God wants to teach you something. So find the lesson." Then the baby came, and I found my fear realized as I struggled to manage everything. But I told myself, "I can do this. I just have to try harder." All the while, I became buried deeper and deeper in my dark emotions, sometimes lashing out at my husband or children, sometimes beating myself up for not doing enough. Joy and peace seemed elusive. I felt like everything was going to fall apart if I stopped moving. But it was really me that was falling apart. And all I was really doing was putting duct tape on a bursting pipe. I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong… until I allowed myself to cry.* If you've ever watched Pixar's Inside Out, you would understand.

And I discovered that crying goes beyond a psychological or physiological need to expel pain. Whenever I try to avoid feeling loss or pain, I am really trying to hold onto self-reliance. I put on a good front. I tell people "I'm fine." And I keep trying to fix the problem. I try not to feel the pain in the hope that by the time the problem is fixed, I can move on to happier emotions. But in doing so, I also keep a death grip on my pride. Which means my hands are closed, and I am unable to receive help, or anything, from God. 

All this time, I kept asking God to reveal to me what He wanted me to learn, not realizing that I was unable to learn it. That was, until I cried. Until I humbled myself and let go. Until I admitted that I couldn't do it on my own.

I would have found this in the Bible too if I had thought to look. My friend Susan (thank you, Susan!) reminded me that centuries before me, the authors of the Psalms cried out in despair and hopelessness, sounding almost blasphemous as they accused God of abandoning them. David, in Psalm 13, wrote

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?

How long will you hide your face from me?

How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart?

How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.

Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;

my enemy will say, "I have overcome him," and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

Notice, though, how David ended his song. 

But I trust in your unfailing love; 

my heart rejoices in your salvation.

I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me.

David did not just cry out to feel better. He didn't cry out to the sky just to release pent-up emotions. He traded his fears and sadness for peace and joy.

And that is what Ben is learning. And me also. By being honest with myself and admitting my weakness, I find strength, real strength. By allowing myself to fully feel the heartache, I can then be healed. And I've felt joy, peace, and patience return to me, though my situation hasn't changed much. 

Yes, there is a release when you cry, but what's even better is when you can release the emotions and the whole situation to the One who can do something about it.

(*See the post from May 11, When Mamas Need a Good Cry.)