Weeping may endure for the night…

Dear Baby,

Your life mattered. You were seen by God and you were formed by His hands. There was never a moment that you were an accident to Him and you were never unexpected. You were a perfect miracle–perfectly you. You were seen by human eyes when you were just 8 weeks and 5 days old, with a heartbeat of around 100. Before your mom went to the doctor to get an ultrasound, she was very afraid that she may have already lost you and the tears of sorrow and grieving had already started. But there was still hope that you were alive. An ultrasound would say for sure. But there was the unknown of what would happen if you were still alive. Would your heart keep beating after that day?

8 weeks 5 days old

The doctor, your mom, and one other person had the honor of seeing your tiny, perfect form. Your mom proudly told me, “A healthy baby, m’am.” When I asked her how she felt when she saw you, she started weeping and said, “Happy, m’am.” And all the love, sorrow, joy, and fear mingled together in her heart and her words and the battle for your life raged on. The battle for your mom’s life raged on too. Many were praying for her and for you, and I hated that your mom felt trapped and helpless; and I did everything I could to show her a way could be made, no matter what. She loved you.

You were loved

And the enemy hated God, and you, and your mom and he fought with all he had to take you and your mom down, to take life down. And I raged at the sadness and the darkness of it all, because your mom could not possibly know the pain and you were an innocent, beautiful life.

The autumn candle flickers silently and brightly in the dark now and my tears fall with your mom’s. You would have been born in the fall, at the end of October. You mattered and you are loved and you have not been lost to the darkness. And wonder of wonders, and joy of joys, your mom hasn’t been lost to the dark either.

While the enemy plotted and schemed, God plannned and planted, and you were given a name. Jeremiah. It means “raised by God.” I held onto hope that this name meant that courage and love would overcome it all and your mom would fully know that God would be the one to make a way for you to come into this world, but God knew. He made you and formed you and now He alone is the one to raise you. Your Heavenly Father, in perfect peace and love and safety.

I asked your mom if she had a feeling if you were a boy or a girl. She told me that she was wishing for a boy and she had always had a name picked out if she had a boy someday, with the meaning of gift, because you would be given to her by God. Your life was too short, but you were a true gift.

So, Jeremiah, the enemy’s head has been crushed, for you were not lost to this world. You were not lost to hopelessness. Your life was not snuffed out forever. And your mom….she knows there is a God who loves her and who loves you. And while the next part of this journey will pierce her like knives and almost tear her heart in two, God has already been planning redemption and healing. And when this vapor of a life is over, you will behold your mom and Jesus will hold you both. Healed, whole, and redeemed. It won’t be long, Jeremiah. But you probably already heard that from the One who made you.


The intimate love of suffering companionship

No one’s life revolves around mine. Not my kids’ lives (my life revolves around theirs, right? :)) Not my closest friends’, and not even my husband’s. Not today on my birthday (I am 42 now), or any other day of the year. And that’s how life is for all of us. No human can meet all our needs and we can’t meet all of any other person’s needs. We are not at the center of any one person’s universe. I sit here with my journal on my birthday and these thoughts brew in my mind about our humanity as I am wondering about and pondering the thought that I in fact do know ONE whose life revolves around mine and it’s too insane and too good to be true.

The Starbucks cup matches my kindle šŸ™‚

Jesus. 24/7, He is available to meet my every single need. Able to carry all my burdens. Able to comfort me in all my pain. Able to answer all of my questions. Able to calm all my fears and worries. Able to understand me when no one else can. He knows me better than I know myself. He knows my thoughts before I think them and my words before I speak them. He knows exactly what I need at just the right moment.

He speaks and moves in the deepest parts of my heart where no one but me can hear Him. He believes in me and reaches for me. He opens my eyes to see things that only He knows and only He can reveal. He makes me feel known and understood. He never judges me. He loves me enough to give me the great gift of seeing myself as I truly am, with all my weaknesses and faulty thinking, so that I can be free from captivity.

He gives me gifts year round–just because. And so that I can be filled with vision and purpose and can have a part in touching peoples’ lives and hearts. He gives me so much more than I could possibly handle. Sometimes to the point of drowning. But then He lifts me to walk on water to do the impossible. He takes my hand and leads me through my life. He is so gentle and kind. He never drags me along against my will. He waits for me. He never stops patiently waiting for me.

I can’t visibly see Him, but He lets me see Him every day through being a mom, especially of young ones. He lets me see Him in completely new ways through the journey of adoption. He loves me. I am like a toddler learning to walk and struggling to talk, and He loves me.

He gives me lyrics and music and big dreams. Sometimes too much at once. Sometimes just enough. But actually, always just right. He takes the swirly, spinning parts of my mind and calms the storm. He tells me He is enough and I am really starting to believe Him more and more. He tells me the world isn’t enough and I know now–but have so very far to go.

He has helped me to learn to receive his love for the last 41 years. And now He is helping me to love Him back, to really want to love Him. He has drawn it out of me—or rather, put it in me in the first place. I love because He first loved me. How he has wooed me all these years, and mostly in my pain. The intimate love of suffering companionship. He has walked with me into all the deep places of pain and wrestling and He sat with me for such a long time. He never got up, not once. He never sighed in frustration or impatience. He didn’t watch me struggle from afar. He sat with me. He asked all the right questions, said all the right things, and covered me with the most comforting blanket of silence and peace when He saw me writhing and striving and angsting.

He left the door open for me to escape the pain or the emotion or the calling. He never locked me in. But I couldn’t leave–He was beckoning me deeper. His deep calling to my deep and it was a spiritual knowing, an instinct, a response. Not a mind response. Not a purely human one. One that is in every person if we will let Him enlarge and deepen our hearts and spirits. It is us before time began and after time ends–our eternal longing and reaching, where no human words can suffice.

He took my desire to abide and surrender and change and answered it in all the foolish ways of the world. They make no human sense. But His love never has. The gift of receiving His love has been just that- a gift. It’s the best birthday present I could ever ask for–to be known and loved by Him every year, every day, until I meet Him face to face.

The wonder of His words that are never changing, but always changing for me. And this is only skimming the surface in comparison to the love, wisdom, peace, and joy that is available to us at all times, forever and ever. May I receive His love and His precious gifts, and know Him in more and more revelation and abundance this year, as I learn to love Him back. This is how my freedom, healing, and transformative journey began. And begins again.

Let me be with you

POST EDITED TO ADD THE SONG FOR RUSSELL AT THE END (special guest at the end of song :))

Boundaries. Healthy boundaries.

This has been on my mind and heart so much lately. We are living in a day and age where setting boundaries, self-care, entitlement, and self-strength are being touted as the end-all, be-all in our health and happiness. If we can just love ourselves well and better, we are on the right path to wholeness. If we can cut all the toxic people out of our lives, and surround ourselves only with those who praise and encourage us, we will rise stronger. More positive talk and less negativity. You can see some of the quotes below related to boundaries. Before I go on, please know right now, that I absolutely believe that boundaries are healthy and often necessary, and at times critical to a person’s survival and emotional and mental well-being (clearly, always in the case of abuse this is true). So, know that I am not saying that boundaries are not necessary or that they are not ok or wrong. I am not saying that. I am in my own process of self-discovery, learning how to process my emotions of the past and present, and exploring healthy boundaries in my own life. This is a newer and ongoing process for me and these are some of my reflections on my own journey.

I was talking with a friend yesterday and said, “Being a Christian and learning to set boundaries is so hard. I mean, the only example we have of Jesus setting boundaries is getting away to pray.” And it hit me when I said that. Huh. Jesus and boundaries. What did they look like? We talked about this and reflected on it some more. This thought was confirming what has been on my heart in a lot of processing and wrestling lately and my friend’s insights were furthering our own journeys of being challenged and changed.

So often, the answer of Jesus is different than the answer of the world. They absolutely align sometimes, and oh those glorious moments. But the wrestling that comes, when the answers of the world are different than the whisperings of your heart. In a particular issue in my life recently, I have wrestled. I have heard and agreed with much in the way of boundary setting and have often been encouraged to do this better and more clearly in my life, to protect my heart. But there is this tiny whispering that tugs at my heart and reminds me–Jesus. Have I asked Him? What is the way of Jesus? And sometimes I honestly don’t want to know. Because won’t Jesus keep telling me to forgive? Keep loving? Keep burning myself out and taking my heart down with me? Won’t He tell me to set my emotions aside and just serve and love? Won’t His answer be to think of the other person more highly than myself? Won’t He just remind me that He loves them as much as He loves me? Won’t He discourage boundary setting?

Well, how the heck will I know what He would say if I don’t trust Him enough to ask Him? And why would any of us ask what He thinks if we think that we just need to love ourselves more, do more self-care, and set boundaries in order to be healthy. If we think we have the answers, we aren’t going to go to Him. Or even if we don’t think we have the answers, we might be too afraid to ask Him. And lately, I have tentatively been asking, in-between fits of anxiety and confusion. In-between listening to the lies that fill my head. In-between the frustration and the hurt. In-between the entitlement and the need to be understood. Every so often, and more often as I learn to trust, I dip my toe ever so reluctantly, into the waters that Jesus resides in. And I let myself believe and trust that He knows me better than any counselor, any family member, any friend, and that He has the answers. And I remember. Jesus got away to pray. He Himself spent all night praying before choosing His disciples (Luke 6:12-16). And who was one of the 12 disciples Jesus chose? One of the most toxic humans known to humanity. The very one that handed Jesus over to die.

Jesus was so poor at setting boundaries that He let crowds surround Him and touch Him and He healed them everywhere He went. He got into boats to teach the people instead of sailing away in the other direction as they chased Him. He reached out and touched the ugly, the sick, the deformed. He took the hands of the blind, the outcasts, and the marginalized. He redeemed the worst of stories by connecting and loving. And then–He let Himself be led to His own death. Worst boundary setter ever. Granted, He was God. But He was also human. And He was tired. And He was spent. And He was hungry. And time and time again, He needed to refuel. And He didn’t do this by processing it with His disciples, or seeking out professional help (all good things for us humans, but they are secondary to God’s wisdom). He did it by getting away to be with His Father. I wonder at those times of prayer and would love, love to hear just a smidgen of them. I believe one thing with all my heart though. Those times in prayer were filled with love and peace. And the strength needed to do the next thing in front of Him. God’s love changes me. And it’s not because I said the right words or asked the right question. It’s His very presence. It’s because His love is that powerful. No striving. No trying. No faking. His presence can sometimes literally be what we need to move our heart in one direction or another as we have been wrestling. “But when you praygo away by yourself, shut the door behind you, and pray to your Father in private…” (Matthew 6:6a). I must get away by myself with Him. And this is not legalism. It is a life-line. And so often, I don’t. We don’t. And we suffer, we agonize, we thrash about and can’t rest. “I have set the Lord always before me. Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken. You have made known to me the paths of life; you will fill me with joy in Your presence” (Psalm 16:8, 11a).

A few years ago, I was at an impasse with a Taiwanese co-worker of mine. There was much misunderstanding and I had tried with all my heart to explain and make it right, but the language and cultural barriers were seemingly insurmountable, and the damage seemed to already be done. I told God, I literally have zero clue what to do. That was basically my only prayer through the whole thing. God, I can’t. I have tried. And sometime during that time period, I read the story of Jesus washing His disciples feet. I have read this story or had it read to me countless times. This time was different. For the first time in my life I felt pulled to do this for someone in particular. And believe you me, I thought it was too cliche and way too awkward. I did not want to do it. But I was so sure that the idea was not from myself (one of the main ways I know when God is speaking: no way did the thought come from me), that I knew I should do it anyway. And I did. And it was hard. And it was awkward. And it felt somewhat cliche. But not to her. Through her tears and in that moment, there was healing. True healing. Her heart changed and my heart changed. Like miraculous. And I wondered at the wisdom of God. He knew what I needed. I didn’t need to pull away. I didn’t need to set boundaries or try to explain myself anymore. I needed the heart and eyes of God. I needed His answer. The change in my heart actually probably didn’t really happen until after I had washed her feet. God knew what it would take for a heart shift to happen. And not because it would only bring healing for the other person, but for me. If God calls us to the seemingly impossible, especially in relationships, I believe it is ultimately for our good. It’s not to ask us to be a martyr, or for us to take on a martyr complex. It’s not to focus on the needs of the other person. He is teaching us how to set boundaries His way, not ours. And if that means that boundaries and walls are shattered in the process, well so be it, because that means God is doing a miraculous work all around us and in us.

Sometimes God’s answers may eliminate the need for us to set the boundaries we are so hell-bent on setting. Sometimes the boundary needed is God’s own protective boundary around our hearts. And it’s enough for healing to happen. Suddenly, we no longer feel compelled to draw a line in the sand around somebody. That somebody else just became a moot point in the big picture of what God is doing in our own hearts and lives to bring true freedom and healing. In us. Independent of the other person. You are getting healthy and it’s between you and God for now. For now. There might be more to come, but I want those things in His timing and in His way. He has proven His ways are better than mine time and time again.

We are all toxic in some way. We all breathe out things that aren’t beautiful, aren’t encouraging, and are self-serving. There is not one of us who won’t ever hurt those we love. I can’t love others more just by trying harder. I can’t love myself more just by making myself do it. I can be gentler with myself and forgive myself and learn to love me. But I absolutely cannot do this on any sustainable level without the love of God changing me first. I might be able to do it for short spurts, and I might even feel great during those times. Until the next incident in life. The truth is, Jesus absolutely might whisper one of the things above that I am afraid He might say. But when it is in His presence, when I am letting His love wash over me and remind me how He feels about me, I’m not afraid anymore. The entitlement slowly starts to crumble. The mistake I made becomes something I can live with and ask for forgiveness for. I can be human! I am human! And He is not. And that is why I must be with Him. He is the only one who can give me the strength to do what He nudges me to do. He will not ask me to do it without giving me the love, the courage, and the humility to needed to do it. And He promises peace to accompany me. He PROMISES. But so often, I cannot receive His peace, because I am not stepping away to be with Him. To just be with Him.

Again, I am absolutely not advising anyone, or myself, to never set boundaries. Please, please hear me on this. Boundaries can be a beautiful thing. I am sure of it. I am learning about it. But what I am saying is–will we trust God enough to ask Him what He thinks? Will we let ourselves sit in His presence and see what He stirs up in our hearts? Will we trust that He DOES have our best interest at heart–not just the interests of everyone else around us. Do we believe that He can do such a move in a situation or relationship that will exceed all our expectations and/or bring us an answer we never would have imagined? And that answer might be so mind-blowing we couldn’t possibly do it. Forgive? Love? Let go? Surrender? Take responsibility for our own actions? Noooo! Every fiber of our beings might scream in protest. But there it is again. His love bubbling up–first for you. Then for them. His forgiveness melting your resentment. His humility replacing your pride. His tears mixed with yours as you express your hurt and pain. His arms wrapped around you as you let go of control. And it absolutely might be that He encourages you to forgive, set a boundary and move on. But He has the healthy way and the healthy answer. I believe that His answer–even when it appears to the world that is self-sacrificial in a messed up way—is the best answer. Because our hearts will be literally transformed. It won’t be forced. It won’t be us patting ourselves on the back for a job well done. It will be miraculous. It will be impossible. “Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.” (John 7:38).

Sometimes the very boundaries we think we are healthily setting for ourselves may in fact be shackles meant to keep us bound up like a caged animal.

Today after school, I laid down with Russell. Russell has Down Syndrome and is transitioning to a full day of inclusion at our kindergarten. He has dropped his nap during the weekdays, but tonight he is going to a baseball game, so he needs a nap to make it through the night well. He did not want to sleep. He started whimpering and covering his eyes, mixing tears and snot and telling me not to sing or pat his back every time I tried. I asked him why he was crying and he said he didn’t know. I told him it was okay, he could cry. And I told him, “Let me rest with you. I’m here.” And this little song came out of my heart for him and he let me sing it and he fell almost immediately asleep. And as I sang it over and over, I could hear the words like God sings them to us. And this is where I believe our boundary setting needs to start. With Him. We need to let Him be with us.

“Let me be with you. Let me wipe away your tears. Let me cry with you. Let me whisper in your ear—You are loved, you are kind, you are precious, you are mine. Let me be with you. Let me be with you.”

Treasure for me. Treasure for you.

The brilliant orange flower growing in the little cactus that you see here on my blog had huge significance in my life several years ago. Looking at it, I still remember exactly how I felt the day I saw it. We had been living in Taiwan for a couple of years at that point and I was on a new journey of hunger to hear God’s voice, to believe He really spoke, and that He wanted to speak to me. Not just others. But to me. Part of what started the journey in the first place was the brain surgery I had right before moving here, but that’s a whole other story. I had owned the cactus for about the whole time that we had lived here at that point. It was barely hanging on by a thread. It looked perpetually parched and it was no longer cute. But I couldn’t part with it. So, I kept watering it as if I had a clue how to keep it alive, amazed that any of the plants were surviving on our balcony. One day, probably in 2012, I went out on my balcony and there it was. The brilliant orange flower. What in the world? How did this flower come out of this near dead cactus after years of owning it? It was a complete surprise. I had never seen so much as a bud on it. I had zero expectations of this cactus. It’s survival was a gift in and of itself.

It was not just the beauty of the flower that struck me. It was my thought that accompanied it. “God put the flower there for me.” It was a thought that was relatively new to me at that point on my journey. My previous self would have thought how cool it was, wondered at it, given God the credit for its beauty even. But I would not have believed that God would do something like that for me. And I realized I probably hadn’t believed He would do it for anyone. Because God was not in the tiny details of my life at that point. He was in the brain surgeries, the labor and deliveries, the hardships, the conflicts, and the beauty overall. But to believe that He was in the tiny–that was new for me. And I was excited. And still questioning. I still question. A lot. But the more it happens, the more I believe. And the more I believe, the more I look for Him. The more I look for Him, the more I find Him. The more I find Him, the more I want to look for Him. So many of us are trying so hard to hear His literal voice, when He is already literally everywhere. One of the main ways God speaks to me is through birds of all things. But if I had to pick the one thing that stands out as the starting point of it all, it’s the flower in the cactus.

In all of my journeys over the last 10 years, including brain surgery, Down Syndrome, adoption, 5 children, a pregnancy center, and daily life, a common thread through all of it—the good, the hard, and the ugly, is uncovering treasure. I am so inspired by others’ stories of the treasures in their lives, and I want to share the treasures He has revealed and continues to reveal to me in this life He has called us to. It is so not pretty a lot of the time. Ha, actually, a lot like the cactus. But those random brilliant orange flowers tho….

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” John 10:27

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