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

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.

Let there be light!

Wow, this post becomes more relevant to me with each passing day, even though I wrote the first draft almost one month ago.

At that time, I was 39 weeks pregnant and feeling more discouraged, more tired, more sore, and more anxious that I had ever felt while pregnant. I was having strong contractions on and off for several weeks and all I really wanted was to have my baby, but at the same time, the fear of labor pains and my new life afterwards loomed over me at all hours of the day and night.

All I could do was try to stay busy. I excused myself from the family to run to the Chinese grocery store (Chinese food– my biggest craving) and heard this song coming through my van's CD player:

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth

The earth was without form and void and darkness was over the face of the deep

And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters

And God said, "Let there be light"

And there was light

The lyrics are straight from Genesis 1:1-3. As I sat listening to the soothing melody, I was reminded that God is the ultimate Creator. He has been there since the beginning, creating and holding the universe together. And He was still creating now, in me! There was a whole new person inside me! How amazing that I can be a part of God's creation process.

And even more encouraging was the fact that God brings order to chaos, light to the darkness. I picture God's great hand giving shape and meaning to the turmoil and confusion of the uncreated universe. Similarly, anytime I am feeling unsteady and fearful, God guides me through it.

And guided me He did.

That very night, just a few hours after I started writing this post, my water broke. I then experienced my hardest, most painful labor ever because the baby was posterior facing. But after laboring through the dark night, the baby was born at 6:49am, March 4th, healthy and whole. And how perfectly fitting that her name is Nariah, which means 'God is my light'!

But we are still in the midst of the chaos. Nariah is having trouble nursing, so I pumping around the clock, supplementing, and trying to teach her to like the breast again, which also means I can't pay as much attention to my other children or keep up with daily chores. I still have moments of darkness, even more so now because sometimes I feel like I'm failing as a mother, to the baby and all my other children...

Then I remember God's words, "Let there be light!" And I am reminded (again and again) that this present darkness is not forever, not when God is in charge. I may feel inadequate as a mother of eight, I may not know the reason for the timing of this baby, I may want to think that God has made a mistake (or more likely, that I have made a mistake), but those are all NOT true. God is sovereign. God is present. God is orchestrating all the details of my life, and Nariah's young life too.

So be encouraged as I am being encouraged. Maybe you are in your first trimester, or your 39th week. Or maybe you just lost a child. Or you are going through illness. We all have periods of darkness, when we wonder if God has abandoned us or if this time will never end. Remember that God was there at the beginning and that He is in charge. Only He can make something out of nothing and create beauty out of the ugly.

One more thing, if you are looking for uplifting music with lyrics straight from the Bible, check out Seeds Family Worship (and hear the song mentioned above, 'God is Creator' from Genesis 1:1-3). I am so glad my friend Ariel gifted our family with the Character of God CD. Listening to the Seeds Family albums are also a great way to memorize Bible verses!

God With Me

I am tired.

Physically tired. Emotionally tired. Mentally tired.

But I am joyful and grateful. A friend asked me on Friday, "How can you be so calm during all this?!"

Well, it's been a bit of a journey. This is a situation I would have never expected to find myself in.  But let me begin at the beginning.

A few months ago, my husband and I began to notice a strange stench in our bedroom, a foul smell that came from under the house. My husband tried all he could to locate the cause of the odor, but could find nothing. Since we had done all we could, we called the landlord and told him about the smell. We also had to start sleeping on the sofa bed in the living room because the smell  was bothersome and overwhelming at times. We wondered if it was a leak, or mold, or worse.

One plumber came. He could not find a leak. Maybe it is the rain water? he said. I told him about the smell. He said, it must be the rain water.

A restoration specialist came to test for mold. How do I get under the bedroom? he asked. There was no entry that we knew of, I told him. Only these two little vents. Then I can't do anything, the man said. And he left.

Finally, workers came to fix the possible rain water problem. They dug trenches in the front yard to lay a French drain, and they jackhammered the cement in the backyard to level the ground. After two days of noise and demolition, the workers told me, the only way to see what the smell under the house was to go through the bedroom floor. I called my husband and he came home right away to help empty out our bedroom.

We then tried to manage normal living in a house full of furniture and clothes. We continued with school. I went to my prenatal appointment and baked cookies and made split pea soup for dinner. But then one of the workers came to me and asked, Do you want to see what we found under the bedroom floor? I wasn't sure I wanted to, but I followed him to my bedroom.

Under where my bed had once been was basically a pond of muck. Toilet paper and scum floated about. An old, broken pipe stuck out,  the only clue to this mystery. We stood staring into the hole in the floor, flabbergasted and speechless. 

The only solution was for my family to live elsewhere for a few days while the workers shut off the water and fixed the pipes. And that is where we are in the story today.

"How can you be so calm, Rita?!" my friend asked.

Calm. The calmness she saw was an answer to prayer.

My friend didn't know how months before I had been searching daily on Craigslist for rental houses that could accommodate our large family, all the while worrying about the increase in rent. I wanted to pack and move immediately, if only to escape my present  circumstance.

She didn't know about my prayers to keep my baby safe, and for the many times I almost panicked because I couldn't remember when I last felt the baby kick. Then I prayed specifically for a flutter or some sign that the baby was okay, just to calm my heart. 

She didn't know about the night I felt so helpless and anxious that I just cried in bed. I called out to God for peace. And that whatever happened, that I would trust Him through the situation.

He has answered my prayer, times a hundred.

The problem under the house may be a major inconvenience, but it is fixable and not the danger we had imagined. We did not lose our home. We did not lose our belongings. We will not need to move after all.

It has not rained in eight days. The surprisingly warm and sunny weather has only aided in the clean-up of the unwanted water. 

Our friends Jason and Susan enthusiastically welcomed us into their home and said that we could stay as long as we need. I've been able to cook and do laundry. My children have been playing with their children. I can relax and feel at home because of their hospitality.  

We are not sick, in pain, or suffering in any way. My baby is 26 weeks old now and healthy. I feel her kick when I play the cello or sing.

So, this hasn't been the holiday season I wished for, but I have come through this time of uncertainty with a peace that goes beyond the twinkling lights and merry holiday music. 2017 was not the year I had expected it to be. Never would I have thought that I would one day be pregnant with my eighth child and living in my friend's house. But I see the way Emmanuel, 'God with us', has walked with me through the years, and the way He is walking with me now... right into 2018.

Introducing… Dorcas!

Many years ago, I was a lonely ten-year-old whose family had just moved from New York to California. I soon met my first friend, a joyful, spunky, enthusiastic girl named Dorcas. She was a year younger than me and we had much in common– Chinese parents who were devoted Christians, a home in the suburbs, weekends spent at piano lessons and church gatherings.

A few years passed, and as life changes came our way, it seemed that Dorcas and I no longer had as much in common. Sadly, Dorcas's father passed away from liver failure when she was only 14-years-old. Dorcas went on to attend Stanford University, then married her college sweetheart, who was an engineer/entrepreneur and the cofounder and CEO of d.light, the maker of solar-powered, rechargeable, LED lanterns (check them out at www.dlight.com). Now Dorcas Cheng-Tozun, she and her husband lived internationally before settling back in California to raise their two children.

Somewhere along the way, Dorcas and I reconnected on Facebook, and that was when I discovered that Dorcas was an amazing writer! With a humble, honest, beautiful, clear voice, Dorcas shared on her blog about her faith, her life as wife and mom, and her time being a Chinese-American living in China. As I read about her unique and sometimes challenging life experiences, I found myself laughing, sighing, and sympathizing with her, and our lives once again shared a commonality– one that went beyond our young, junior high, suburban lives. Now, with her talent for writing about culture, Christian faith, and the world of small-business start-ups, she is a regular contributor for Inc.com, Christianity Today, The Well, and Asian American Women on Leadership. 

Then, almost a year ago, Dorcas made an exciting announcement! A publisher was interested in her book proposal, and she had signed a contract to write a book on start-ups and family life! And all while expecting her second child! Knowing that she was one busy mama, I hesitated to ask her for an interview, but I also knew that she had such wisdom and insights to share. So I contacted her, and she kindly found the time to answer a few questions for me. Read on (and find out where you can pick up a copy of her book!)

1) Tell us about yourself.

I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, but I have also had the privilege of living in mainland China, Hong Kong, and Kenya. My husband, Ned, and I are college sweethearts who have been married for more than twelve years. We have two adorable boys who have the wonderfully unusual combination of being part Chinese, part Turkish, and part Jewish.

For the first decade of my professional career, I worked in the nonprofit sector, supporting a number of different programs and policies to empower underserved communities. But I always loved writing and found excuses to write in my jobs, whether it was writing reports, proposals, or newsletters. When my first son was born five years ago, it seemed like as good a time as any to try pursuing writing full-time. It’s been a wild, unpredictable ride, and I have loved it.

2) What passions drive you in your writing?

I firmly believe that powerful stories can transform us on a very deep level. I am especially passionate about telling true stories that delve into the messiness of human existence—the awful, the beautiful, and the profound. It is from these stories that I think we can learn the most about who we are, what connects us as fellow human beings, and how God is redeeming each of us day by day.

3) What is the greatest lesson you’ve learned as a wife?

Being a wife has taught me the importance of prioritizing my husband’s flourishing, even when it has been costly for me. Ned has a vocational calling that is extremely demanding, and the entire family has had to sacrifice significantly to support him. 

It has been far too easy for me to grow resentful of these sacrifices without acknowledging that Ned’s flourishing is directly linked to my own. As he has grown in his leadership through his business, he has become a more mature and supportive husband and father. He sees what I have given up for him and is that much more willing to sacrifice for me. Ned has been the greatest supporter of my writing career, even though it’s probably one of the least stable careers I could pursue.

4) What is the greatest lesson you’ve learned as a mother?

In a single word: grace. Grace for myself, as I see all my flaws and imperfections emerging through the daily toil of managing sleep deprivation, tantrums, and adorable little people who have a mind of their own. I have learned far more about my limitations than my abilities after becoming a mom, which has pushed me to be more humble and to be more willing to ask for help. 

Grace for my sons, of course, who are trying to find their own way and establish their own identities in this world. Grace for my husband, who is a fantastic dad, even though his time with the family is limited. 

And grace for all the other moms out there, who are juggling kids and housework and vocation and community service and more. None of us are doing it perfectly, but we’re all trying our best, and we deserve to be acknowledged for our efforts.

5) What is the greatest lesson you’ve learned as a daughter of the King?

Like many kids of Asian immigrant parents, I’ve struggled for years with striving, achievement, people-pleasing, and perfectionism. Over the past decade or so, God has been slowly unraveling the false idea that I am only as good or valuable as what I can accomplish. He has been teaching me that my worth is in my identity as his beloved—just as the worth of every other individual is as his beloved as well. 

While this is a lesson that I am still very much in the middle of learning, in recent years I have felt far greater freedom to take risks, to try new things, and to be (somewhat) okay with failing. My life is so much richer when I am less burdened by the need to prove myself or earn others’ approval. I can instead lean into the unpredictable adventure that God has me and my family on.

6)  What is the best way for readers to get a hold of your book?

As of November 7, my first book, entitled Start, Love, Repeat: How to Stay in Love with Your Entrepreneur in a Crazy Start-up World (Hachette Center Street), will be available wherever books are sold! You can get the hardcover version, e-book, or audio book through Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other online retailers. Hopefully you’ll also be able to find it in your local bookstore.

As you can imagine, this book was inspired by my real-life experience. My hope is that this will be a helpful, practical guidebook for couples that are struggling to balance marriage and family with growing a business. And it’ll also tell you a lot more about the life lessons I’ve learned as the wife of an entrepreneur.

To read an excerpt from Dorcas's book, or to read Dorcas's other published works, visit her website, www.chengtozun.com. And thank you so much, Dorcas, for taking the time to answer my questions! Congratulations on your new publishing venture!

I See the King!

"Mom! There is a giant bird in the tree! Mom! It looks like a penguin!!"

Penguin?! I thought. My children's imaginations must be working overtime. 

But my children know about birds, so they could not have been exaggerating that much. I made my way to the window to check out this penguin.

There, in our neighbor's tree, was not one, but TWO, gray oblong shapes that did look a lot like penguins!

"Mom, are they hawks?"

"No… not any hawk I've ever seen!"

We eventually figured out that our penguins were two huddled blue herons trying to keep warm in the windy weather. We watched the pair throughout the day, taking great delight whenever one moved, worrying when we couldn't see two, and wondering if they would choose to be our permanent neighbors.

That evening at dinner, my husband read another chapter from Tales of the Kingdom (one of our favorites, written by David and Karen Mains). This chapter, titled 'Sighting Day' was about a game called seek-the-King.

"The children try to find the King all over Great Park on Sighting Day," Mercie explained further. "It is a huge game of seek-the-King. He appears in disguises…"

But the game is not as easy as it sounds, because before a person can see the King, he/she has to believe in the King. I won't give away too much, but by the end of the chapter, our protagonist Hero was able to say, "I see the King!"

Suddenly it all came together. Hero understood. This was the King. This beggar. This peasant. This athletic young man.

For me, the connection could not have been clearer. I'm not an avid bird watcher, but I do take great delight in identifying birds and watching their habits. Whenever I'm walking or driving, I spot birds and point them out to my children. Now the children have caught on to my little hobby. When I hear one of them shout out, "There's our phoebe!" or "I saw a red-winged blackbird" I am filled with joy.

Similarly, I can be the one who teaches my children to see Jesus everywhere. When I give thanks despite a difficult situation, I am showing my children that Jesus is in control. When I give praise to the Creator for His beautiful world, I am pointing out God's handiwork. And when I treat strangers, neighbors, and even enemies with love, I am demonstrating Jesus's love for those who were made in His image. Yes, the King is everywhere, if we only open our eyes to see Him.

The herons did not choose to stay for more than a day, but as we drove to church last Sunday, we spotted a heron at the nearby creek.

"Look! A heron! Maybe that's our heron!"

I smiled. Hearing those words brought to my mind an image of my children playing a game of seek-the-King, maybe at church, maybe at the park, maybe at the store. How wonderful it would be to hear them shout one day,

"I see the King!"

Comfort and Peace

His chest rises and falls
Rises and falls
Rises and falls

As he lies in my arms
All his weight
His whole twelve pounds
Rest on my strength alone

There is nothing he wants more in this world
Than the comfort of love
And the peace he finds
In his mother's arms

And if I could
I would
Stop turning to objects, memories, desires, experiences
Even people with the best intentions

This is all I want
To lean
To rest
All my weight
On the only One

To know the same comfort
To know the same peace
That can only be found
In my Father's arms

How I Discovered My Superpowers

"This looks like a job for… Rita Baird!"

Okay, the truth is, I've never said that. And there is no Bat Signal illuminating the sky (I wouldn't see it anyway, since I prefer to sleep as much as I can when it's dark) or Jimmy Olson calling me on his signal watch (unless my husband changes his name to Jimmy and suddenly decides to get an iWatch). But when a friend needs a place to sleep, or a home-cooked meal, or a babysitter, or just some extra loving, my call to action is four simple words:

Sure, come on over!

It's your birthday? I'll whip up some chocolate cupcakes!

Your kids are here for a playdate? I can make cookies or popcorn.

Having a hard week? I'll double dinner and drop off a potpie and visit with you for a bit.

Who knew that under this ordinary-suburban-mom exterior were these amazing superpowers lying dormant all these years? 

Tsk, you scoff. That's not a superpower. Almost anyone can do that!

Which is true. My superpowers are not elasticity, invisibility, or telekinesis; rather, they are hospitality, flexibility, generosity, and a love for baking. But still, not everyone has those qualities! And there are plenty of things that I can NOT do. So while other people have their talents, I have mine, and I have recently realized that just because my talents are commonplace doesn't mean they are not special. With my specific God-given skill set, I can do all I can in the here and now to serve the people I come in contact with. The best part? I didn't need to be zapped by gamma rays (and turn mean and green) or get bitten by a radioactive spider (ew! and ouch!) to use my superpowers!

So, what are your superpowers? How has God uniquely shaped you? How can you use your talents to serve and build His Kingdom? Is there a step of faith that you have hesitated to take? Is now the time? 

"With great power comes great responsibility," right?

As a Deer

What I Learned in 2015

The year 2000 seemed like such a mile stone, and now here we are, flipping the calendar page to 2016.

The biggest difference between the 2000-version of me and the 2015-version of me is that the old me thought she knew everything. She was intelligent, sassy, gung-ho, and ready to face the world. Then she was hit with real life: full-time work, a break-up, a marriage, one baby, two babies, three babies, unemployment…

The 2015-version of me is more humble and more dependent on God. And if she could give any advice to give to the 2016-version of me, it would be this:

Be humble and faithful in what you were given. Trust God in everything, even the unknown.

And don't stop striving and learning, because, hey, you don't know everything. Every year there are lessons great and small to be learned. And the great lesson I learned in 2015 was that I needed to connect with God more consistently. For years now, I haven't been attending a Bible study, or reading the Bible regularly. And that finally changed last year.

First, I stopped making excuses. Most days, I hit the ground running, but if I make a little effort, I can still find time somewhere in the middle or end of the day to sit with my Bible for a few minutes. If I have time to blog and look at photos on Facebook, I have time for God. Also, my friend Elizabeth had been inviting me to a Bible study at her house for the past several years, and I always said, "Well, it's during nap time, so maybe when the baby's older?" And of course, that day never came. But the day did come when I realized that my priorities were not in order. And I had to admit to myself that it was the quiet hour and my own nap time that I didn't want to give up. What was more important to me, naps, or my relationship with God? I asked myself. Foregoing a nap once every two weeks was not going to break me or the baby. But having fellowship with other sisters and diving into the Bible had benefits that were far-reaching and life-giving. I made a choice and started attending the Bible study in September.

Second, I needed accountability. All my previous attempts to read through the Bible or read a chapter a day petered out after a few weeks. So when my friend Kristin asked if I would like to join her online "study", I said, "Sure!" And we, along with several other women, read through Psalm 119 in six weeks. We followed a schedule and used e-mail to share with each other what we learned. And after six weeks, I felt connected to these other women, even though we had not seen each other face to face. I learned to not just read through the Bible passage and close the book, but to S.O.A.P., which stands for Scripture, Observation, Application, and Prayer. This acronym and the study comes from a great website called Love God Greatly. (I included their explanation of S.O.A.P. at the end of this post.) I've done three studies now with Kristin, and I am eager to do more in 2016!

Tomorrow, the sun will rise on a new day. Who knows what 2016 will bring for the Baird family? Who knows what lessons I will learn this year?

Though the questions sound rhetorical, they actually have an answer: God knows! And He knows what this year has in store for you too! I encourage you to seek God more courageously this year, whether it means spending more time in the Word, reaching out to more people, making a sacrifice, or being obedient.

Happy New Year!

What does S.O.A.P. mean?

S- The S stands for Scripture- You physically write out the scripture… you'll be amazed at what God will reveal to you just by taking the time to slow down and actually write out what you are reading!

O- The O stands for Observation- What do you see in the verses that you're reading? Who is the audience? Is there a repetition of words? What words stand out to you?

A- The A stands for Application- This is when God's Word becomes personal. What is God saying to me today? How can I apply what I just read to my own personal life? What canoes do I need to make? Is there an action that I need to take?

P- The P stands for Prayer. Pray God's Word back to Him. If He has revealed something to you during this time in His Word, pray about it. Confess if He has revealed some sin that is in your life.

Trust in the Unseen

Turn on the television, and the children come running.

How do they know? I always wondered. It's like they have a sixth sense for the TV!

Then they told me. When the television is turned on, they all hear a high pitch sound. I don't. I'm too old.

But I can't argue that the frequency doesn't exist, just because I can't hear it. It's there, according to my children, and I have to trust them. I have to believe that they are not lying and conspiring against me. 

How about "seeing is believing?" How far can we really go with that? Many things happened before my lifetime. I didn't see them. I have to trust the people who wrote down what they saw. 

In reality, our senses are very limited. We are not unlike a blind person trying to cross the street, or a deaf person trying to understand an important message, because we all put our trust in something to help us through life. The question is… who, or what, do we trust? Experts? Health? Money? Good looks?

I for one choose to trust the One who sees all, hears all, and knows all. I cannot see Him, but I know He exists.

I wonder as I wander out under the sky
How Jesus the Savior did come for to die
For poor on'ry people like you and like I
I wonder as I wander out under the sky

My Little Faith

When I die, I'd like people to say, "Rita was a person of great faith."

But what does a person of great faith look like? 

Certainly, not like me.

When I think of a person of great faith, I picture Esther, approaching the king, ready to do whatever it takes to save her people. 

But me? I avoid conflict. I have a hard time doing or saying anything that might cause people to not like me.

Or I picture the boy David, armed with only a sling and a rock, facing a giant trained to kill. 

A giant! And David was sure that he would win! Me? I wouldn't be so sure. I'd probably be hiding with David's brothers. I like safety. I like certainty. I like comfort.

On most days, I don't feel like a person of great faith. I don't feel like a fountain of faith is flowing from my innards. I think about my dad and his cancer, and my friend whose baby was recently diagnosed with a life-threatening anemia, and I don't feel strong. Instead, I feel helpless. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. I wish my faith was great enough to give me the confidence to say, "Yes, God can defeat that giant!"

So, what do I do? I do what I do everyday- take care of my family, call my dad, cook for some people, visit my friend. I try not to think too much about the future, the Great Unknown. I wait for waves of strength and courage to wash over me, for the times when I feel like a person of great faith, times when I might do something more than what I do everyday. Then maybe I'll have the answers. Then maybe I'll be outspoken. Then maybe...

But guess what? Jesus said, "If you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you." (Luke 17:6)

Jesus said that it doesn't take a mountain of faith. It takes one grain. Not a fountain. Just one drop.

But it also takes action. I have to move. I have to say 'Be uprooted' to the tree. I have to act on my little faith.

Jesus also said, "Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened." (Matthew 7:7-8)

Ask, seek, knock… faith isn't a feeling; it's an action. I don't have to feel faithful. I don't need to feel brave. It's okay if I feel afraid, as long as I am acting in faith. Even if I take only one step in the right direction. Even if I can only whisper a prayer. Even if I am doing what I already do everyday by taking care of my children, calling my dad, cooking for some people, and visiting my friend. If I am obeying God, I am a person of faith.

I'd like to revise my original statement. When I die, I don't want people to say, "Rita was a person of great faith." I'd like them to say, "Rita was a person of little faith, who learned to obey God, one step at a time. And that is how, through her, God was able to do great things."

To Lose a Baby

When I gave birth to my first child, I also gave birth to all my vulnerabilities. 

And now I have six children. A turtle without a shell has it better than me.

I take it back. A turtle could never love as deeply as I love my children. I am a different person because of my children– more kind, more sensitive, more humble. To be vulnerable is not a weakness. If I ever lost a child, I would not regret the pain. But I wonder how I would respond.

My friend's baby died today, a week and a half before the baby's due date. I cry for them. There are so many questions, but no answers. I think about MY baby's heart beating in me. I remember how I loved him, even before he was born. Before I met him, I already knew him. If it had been my baby, would my faith be shaken? Would my deep sorrow drive me to hate God, or cling to God? I would pray that I could see God's goodness in the situation and remain faithful.

If you had ever lost a baby, my heart cries for you too. But I pray that you cling to God, though none of it makes sense, though there are no answers, though you feel worse than a turtle without a shell. Keep loving your baby, and God can use that love to change you.

Living By Example

A few weeks back I read an article that basically said, "The worst thing you could ask of your daughter is to be an example for her friends." According to the author, the pressure your daughter feels from this kind of request pushes her to put on a good face, but to never feel like she herself can admit her fears, hurts, or shortcomings.

"Oh my gosh! I've ruined my children!" was my initial emotional response. My husband and I often ask our children to be good role models for their younger siblings. We encourage our children to be leaders among their friends and their peers at church. Have I been wrong this whole time in asking them to do that? Doubt raced through my mind and robbed me of my confidence. I didn't know what to think. I didn't know what to write. Guilt bubbled in my core. 

When my emotions finally settled down, I tried to think through this author's words with a clear head. I had written before on something similar to this. We are role models, whether we want to be one or not. Our choice is to be good role models, or bad role models. 

Similarly, I can ask my children to be an example for their friends, though I should explain clearly to them what type of example they should be. After all, Paul wrote these words to young Timothy: Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity (I Timothy 4:12). My children can be examples of perfect, happy people, or they can be examples of people who know that they are saved by grace, people who know that their greatest example is Jesus Christ (see Philippians 2).

So what it comes down to is this: The worst thing I could ask of my daughter is to be an example without being the right example for her. And if I am the kind of mother who cares more about appearances, then I will teach my children to do the same. If I am the kind of mother who pretends to have it altogether,  then my children will grow into that mold.

But if I am the kind of mother who can say, "I'm sorry. I was wrong," who can share about the lessons she is learning, who gives grace and freely admits that she is in need of it too, who cares for those who are weaker and smaller, whose goal is not to be an example but to bring healing to people, who looks to Jesus, then I want to say to my children, again and again and again,

"Be an example. For your friends. For your peers. For the world."

Rediscovering Faith and Contentment

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. ~Hebrews 11:1

The initial giddiness of having a new baby has been replaced by the weariness of taking care of six children plus one adult. All last week, I was critical, short-tempered, and downright grumpy around my children and husband.

Baby blues? I wondered. But I never had postpartum depression before.

Which didn't mean that I couldn't have it with my sixth child, but it wasn't baby blues at all. It was, at the heart of it, discontentment.

I was just savoring my freedom with a toddler out of diapers. I was writing more, performing more, mentoring more… doing all the things that I've always wanted to do but couldn't because I've been busy with babies for the past ten years or so.

And now, I'm back to the start. Back to nursing, schedules, diaper bags, and nighttime feedings. And there was some envy in me as I listened to my husband talk about his work and the upcoming staff retreat. I watched him as he answered phone calls and text messages from people wanting his biblical advice, and as he left to meet someone at a coffee shop to give encouragement and care. I felt stuck, useless, overlooked.

This morning's sermon was from Hebrews. It was about waiting for God, even when nothing seems to be on the horizon. Abraham, Jacob, Joseph… just to name a few– they had faith. They believed despite the fact that they could not see. God's promise was enough.

And so it must be for me, if I call myself a woman of faith. Though I cannot see why God wants me to devote my talents and energy to raising six children rather than to be a missionary or worship leader, I need to trust that He has a plan for me and my children. Though I'd rather raise my hand and be the first to volunteer, I need to trust that now is not the time; later will be better. Though I think I am ready to take on so much, I need to trust that God is shaping me for something more. There is much that I can grow in.

My husband left for the staff retreat today. I took all six children with me to Costco (a giant warehouse store) to restock our refrigerator. It was my first time doing so, and I was surprised to find myself calmly maneuvering through the crowds, joking with my children, joyfully going through this task with them. 

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart… we sang this morning as our closing song.

It is not always easy to have a vision for the things unseen. But that is contentment– living with the knowledge that God's promises will be fulfilled, and in the meantime, finding delight in the waiting.

Daily Trust

I don't like not knowing. And I especially don't like waiting while not knowing.

Which makes it surprising that I have (almost) six children, because with every child, I reach the point where anxiety begins to creep in as I near the expected due date and there is still so much I do not know. I don't know when the birth will happen. I don't know how the new baby will change the dynamics of the family. I don't know what surprises will come, so I cannot prepare for them. 

That said, I admit that I'm feeling a little tense right now. I want this baby to come NOW, because I'm tired of being pregnant, but more than that, because I want to know what my new life will be like. I'm a person of action, and God is teaching me (constantly) that sometimes action is not the answer. No, TRUST is. Trusting Him when I first find out that I'm pregnant. Trusting Him when people ask "Did you plan to have six? Are you going to have more? How are you going to take care of all these children?!" Trusting Him whenever the unexpected comes my way.

Living the life God intends for me is sometimes about charging forward with courage, and sometimes about resting in Him with patience and faith. Every morning, I have to to trust that He will give me what I need to face that day. So I will wait-- for this baby, for God's timing, and for the courage to face the unknown and tackle it when the time comes to do so.