Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Unrelated things I am Pondering

A friend texted me today and said she was pondering my wise words, and quoted me. It totally made me laugh.

I am so not wise. At least I don't feel that way. And I am totally fine with that.

Summer has brought me to my knees. And I don't mean in that thank-God-for-all-He's-done kind of way. And that is probably my problem. [Should I just end the post here?]

One of my sweet dear children lost his mind while we were in New York. And we're all still recovering. It sort of rocked our[my] boat.

Our pastor started a series on rest when we returned from New York. And it's funny how God does sh&% like that you, when you're feeling more stressed and confused than ever before, he wants you to hear about rest. Because upon our return, I was feeling as if I would never be able to rest again. And summer was just beginning. And I was trapped.

My definition of rest= leaving my children for a designated period of time to not take care of anyone, at all.

Our pastor started out the series with the idea that most of us rest from our work, when we should be working from our rest.

I wanted to stand up and shout, "Hello! I am a mother of five traumatized kids!" (I do realize only three of the came to me traumatized, and I take full responsibility for traumatizing the other two.)
"I don't get any rest to work from! And when I do get rest, it isn't to fuel my work, it's to keep me out of jail!"

Needless to say, I showed up the other three weeks to hear all the answers to how I could feel rested. And work from my rest. If I get it figured out this summer, I will fill you in.
But I haven't yet. I think it might take a lifetime to fully grasp God's rest.

So I am pondering rest.
I pondered it in the middle of the night last night as I curled up at the feet of D's bed because I had left my own after a coughing toddler and snoring husband had me lying there pondering how to suffocate them both, with one pillow.

I pondered it while sitting in the backyard at 2 am with the puppy who refuses to go to the bathroom outside.

And I pondered it while watching 10 kids at the pool ages 7 and under.

How do I do the work of mothering from a place of rest? How do I work from my rest and not rest from my work?

I will continue to ponder it next week when I leave all my children behind. I think I will get all the answers on rest while I sit on the bow of a boat, on the lake.

(And to my friends who are helping to watch dear sweet child, I will eternally owe you, and I already asked God for an extra big shiny jewel for your crown, that I get to put there!)

Eternal Perspective
When I talk about adoption and foster care in the big picture, it is easy to remind and encourage others that they are changing the world. Literally, I believe that. From my core.

But I read this quote the other day that made me cry, and laugh, and try to blow away the mist... "Sometimes the mist of our time clouds our eternal perspective." - A.W. Tozer.

The more I work with hurting kids, the more my kids hurt, the more mist I see clouding my perspective of eternity. And thus I am pondering how to gain eternal perspective in the mist of summer cloudy days.

We have one that keeps sneaking around our house, and eating our berries, and our trash, and pooping on our driveway. And I am pondering killing him. And making a sweet sexy rug for my bedroom.

I am so so grateful for other adults in my children's lives. When people asked me why I don't think I went super crazy as a teenager, I attribute it a little a lot to my parents, and even more so to their wisdom in putting other adults they trusted that WERE NOT THEM, into my life.

It was essential for me to have other adults. Adults who gave me love and praise that I did not and/or could not receive from my parents. Adults they knew and trusted, and that I loved.

I am so grateful for having other adults in my children's lives. And they're still little. I believe our friendship with so many amazing people is benefiting my children more than I could ever imagine. Demetrius' very first case-worker is now a close friend. She knew him before we knew him, she knows what he looked like as an infant, and has stories of he and his birth-mom that I don't. Her friendship is an unspeakable joy in my life, and I know she will be a part of the village that is helping to raise up this amazing man!

We have bad-ass pastor friends that hunt and shoot guns, and stop bad-guys, and they will always be cooler than us, and I am so grateful for them. They will speak Jesus into our kid's lives like I never could.

We have a single friend who loves on my kids like they were her own, she spoils them and gives them all the stuff that I forget to do. And she makes them feel wonderful. When a kid get's in trouble by David, they cry for me. When a kid gets in trouble by me, they cry for David. But when a kid gets in trouble from both of us, they cry for her. And it melts my heart, and is worth eternity that they have someone like that.

I LOVE sitting at football practice and watching the coaches teach my boys about responsibility and being a good friend to everyone, and all the lessons I try to teach them everyday. I love that there are big strong black men modeling for my sons what it means to be a big strong black man.
And I could go on and on.

I am pondering how on earth we got so blessed to be surrounded by the village of amazing adults that we have, because Lord knows, it will take a village.

1 comment:

  1. I recently found your blog, and have LOVED going back and reading through a lot of your older posts. I so appreciate your honesty about foster parenting! My husband and I are praying about doing foster care one day, and your blog has been an incredibly helpful resource as we research and discuss moving forwar.