Have Mercy!

i am home with the children for the week.  heath is traveling.  so, this weekend, i've been full on.  tonight at dinner, i was running around, meeting the needs of the children.  reaching left and right to hand them the things they needed to begin their meal.  keep in mind, our london kitchen is tiny.  it's the size of our kitchen island back in the states!  the 3 older children sit up in bar stools while echo sits at a little table in a little chair.  i stand and eat.  but, it's probably better that way because every time i try to sit, someone needs something anyway.

as we were finishing eating, maddox spilled a huge cup of milk and immediately starts to say how sorry he is.  maddox has the most sensitive heart of any child i know.  he felt terrible.  as i saw the mess of the milk go all over him, all over the table, the chairs, the cabinets, the walls...even a bit went on zane!  i'm telling you, this cup must have bounced fifty times before it finally landed on the floor.  i stood there speechless, defeated, worn to a tither from the day's events of playing, disciplining, birthday partying (yes, i'd taken them to an outdoor birthday party in the park, heaven help me), cooking, cleaning....cleaning, cooking.  so i stood there.  speechless.  i took one look at maddox and told him he needed to get into the shower.  i marched him back to the bathroom, put him in the shower and told him to wash his whole body and i would come back for him.

as i was leaving, i could here him say, "even my hair!  ahhh, man!"

in the back of my mind i knew this was a complete accident.  he was sorry immediately.  i knew this, and yet, i still could not speak.  i was oddly calm which i think freaked maddox out even more.  all i could think about was how i was going to clean up all that milk!  i had gotten to the kitchen when i heard maddox yell out that he was done.  i knew there was NO way he had washed his body, even if it is a tiny body!  i ran back and asked him if he washed his entire body.  "yes" was his timid reply.  i asked if he'd washed his hair.  "yes" was, yet again, a very weak reply.

he was fibbing.  i turned into a cyclone at that moment.  i think my head, torso and legs went in three directions as i told him, yelled rather, that there was no way he'd washed and i knew that he was not telling the truth!  he started crying and then told the truth.  he had only gotten his body wet.

shocking.

i marched, stomped, back up to the kitchen and began to clean the mess as he remained in the shower to clean up his own "mess".  after he was finished, i told him to come up and watch me clean the rest of the kitchen.  cruel and unusual?  maybe?  did it make an impression?  yep, i think so.

i'm thinking he'll probably hold that cup a little tighter and make sure he tells the truth next time.  it's just a hunch.  being a cyclone mom has it's advantages.

after the clean up, we hugged and talked about the situation.  i told him that i was only annoyed by the spilled milk but the lie made me angry.  very angry.  "i don't accept you telling me things that are not true.  i'm your mother.  please be honest with me."


he cried a little more, maybe just for dramatics, i'm not sure, gave me a huge hug...and asked if he could go play his DS...ugh.

later that night as i was praying with the children, i gave thanks to God for his kindness, love and mercy...after i was finished praying maddox asked "mommy, what is mercy?"  after stuttering over my words and floundering for a bit, i told him that it's being forgiven and getting mercy from God, that even when we do things wrong and make mistakes, God loves us and has mercy.  he forgives us and we don't have to suffer the consequences of the mistake.  he forgives us and washes it clean.  maddox's reply was, "well, mommy, can you have mercy on us next time we make mistakes?"

really?

did he just say that to me?

i had to stifle my laugh.  don't kids say the darnedest things?  just when we think we can't take anymore they come out with something fantastic like that.

maddox and i had a really good conversation further about forgiveness and mercy.  we talked about unconditional love and what that meant.  i'm not sure that he absorbed it all but i think a lot of it went in pretty clearly.

later i googled mercy and this is something that i found:

"Mercy is like a judge finding you guilty, but then withholding any punishment. Grace is getting something you could never have imagined. An inexplicable gift. It's like the same judge awarding you $10,000,000.00, after finding you guilty!"

wow, i'd been thankful for the mercy...but i forgot about the grace that he gives also.  not only do we not pay for our mistakes if we know Christ, but we get His grace as well....

it's a pretty good deal.  i can see why maddox asked for it.  he's a smart kid.

now i sit here thinking, after all that happened tonight.  all that we talked about, all that we cried about, all that was learned.  will he spill the milk again one day?  absolutely.  he'll spill milk a million more times...not always milk, but you get what i'm saying.  he will always do something wrong.  and there will be more times (cringe) that he will lie to me.  will it make me angry?  yep.  will i be upset?  of course.  will i still love him?  without a doubt.  there is nothing that can separate my love for him.  he's my child.

i believe that God feels the same for me.  i constantly make mistakes.  after my mistakes, unlike maddox, there have been times that i'm not quite sorry.  i knew it was wrong but i did it anyway.  and there are times, that not only do i not say i'm  sorry but i lie about it.  i don't go to Him with my mistake.  i try to cover it up from Him.  and He knows the truth.  He knows.  and after i come to Him and tell Him the truth, what does He do?

He has mercy.  He cleans up all that spilled milk. but on top of that, He gives me grace.  no matter how big the mess is.

he cleans the mess, hands me another cup of milk and, on top of that, an oreo cookie to dip into the milk.

why?

because i'm His child.  and nothing can separate His love for me.

thank God.  because my mistakes have been a lot bigger than a little bit of spilled milk.  i've hurt others much more than a few splashes of milk flying across their shirt.  and yet, God forgives, forgets, and moves on.

i am so glad that we, as humans, have the capacity to love, to forgive and to move on.  God made us in His image and i believe that is why we have the ability to do the things that we do, to feel the way that we feel.  because we have some of our Father in us.

now, the kids are all asleep.  i'm beat.  i think i'm going to go have a nice cold cup of milk.

"But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."  Romans 5:8

Disappearing Act

you can disappear pretty easily in this city.  it's not difficult.  i do it almost every day.  i walk out my front door, say "hello" the porters outside of my flat,  i pass the starbucks baristas who wave to me and sometimes i pass a couple of familiar faces on their way to the gym.  if it's raining or a lucky day, i may pass my homeless friend, david.  but once i hit kensington high street and into that multicultural sea of faces, i'm just another speck on the street.  and i kinda like it.  actually, there are many days that i love it.  don't get me wrong, i certainly miss running into any number of friends and family at target back home in the states, or seeing a friend drive by in their SUV with their windows rolled down taking their children to one of many places around marietta.  i love all of that too.  but sometimes it's nice to disappear.  it's nice to be in the background. to be anonymous.

last week, i had a really good friend over with her children for a play date.  i don't do a lot of play dates because my children live their lives in a constant play date.  that's all they do, the four of them together.  they play all day with one another.  i cater to their needs of bathroom breaks/diaper changes, snack times, lunches, juices, organized playing and unorganized playing.  yes, it's a constant play date around here.  so when i do decide that we are going to actually have some friends over or go to their place, it's a big deal.  i know it will change as they get older and more independent but right now, it's a family event, i go over with them, i stay while they play, then we all go home together.  and sometimes, especially here, our play dates are a package deal...you invite one over and i might just have to bring all four!  so little play dates can easily turn into big parties!

i was excited about this play date for good reason.  not only do my children really enjoy the children coming over to play, but i adore the mother bringing them.  it was a time for us to hang out and chat as well.  i love a good chat with a good friend.  and best of all, we laugh.  i really love a good laugh so i was thrilled to have her over as well.

we've grown to be friends in the last year and i love the fact that i have a friend in this city.  she, too, is from the states and living here for a couple of years so we have that in common.  we have several things in common and we have several differences as well.  as much as i adore my friends who i have everything in common with, i can also appreciate a good friend who i don't have everything in common with.  one that can challenge me.  and can be challenged by me.  it helps me see myself more clearly and i really like that.

we've known of our differences for quite some time.  little things, the obvious, she's taller with fantastic long legs and i'm....less tall.  she's from the north, i'm from the south.  and then there are the less obvious, i believe in Christ, she does not.  we've had a couple of discussions over this and i'm always interested to hear her view of things.  on the afternoon that she brought her girls over to play, i tried to do more listening than talking.  goodness knows, i have a big mouth so i'm not sure how it all turned out from her view point but i wanted to hear her side of things.  i wanted to know her thoughts, her heart.  i wanted to know why someone who had grown up catholic all her life could turn from a Father who loves her more than she could ever know.  had there been an occurrence?  was it that she slowly left God or did she up and decide in one brief moment?

as it turns out, we have some different views on our faith.  different views on the bible, different views all the way around when it comes to spirituality.  this is a challenge for me because i'm not the most eloquent speaker.  i don't have verses from memory that i can quote.  and i'm not a history buff who can explain how the bible falls into our historic knowledge.  how the two, history and the bible actually DO coincide with one another.  and the idea of how science explains things vs. the bible.  oh, don't even get me started...even though i've learned how they also coincide with one another...i still can't interpret it back.  and i know several of my friends who can do any of these things, if not all of them.  how i wish i had that gift but i end up fumbling over my words, wracking my brain for the right verse to share or staring blankly when history or science is brought up.  it can be frustrating at times to know there are answers...and to not be able to give them.

these conversations have led me to do more thinking, more questioning of myself, my belief, my spirituality, my faith.  and all of this has helped to draw me even closer to God lately.  for that, i'm thankful to this dear friend.

one night last week, i was in the middle of my prayer and it hit me.  the feeling that i just wanted to disappear from all of this.  there is so much that i want to say.  i haven't explained myself well to her, i haven't explained God well enough to her, i haven't done this...i haven't done that...i haven't.....it's all too difficult.  it was in that moment i prayed to just disappear from the situation.  and then i realized that, yes, i need to disappear so that God can be be more clear.  i need to do less worrying and more trusting.  i need to be still.  be quiet.  so i can hear.  He will eventually answer in His own way.  and i truly believe that when God answers our calls...He answers big.  He answers mightily.

sometimes i get so caught up in what i'm doing, what i'm saying, how i'm doing it, when, where, why....that i don't trust that God is doing it all.  yet again i realize that i can't lead.  so why don't i just sit back and follow?  wouldn't that be easier, wouldn't that be more fun actually?  just follow God and stop taking control?  to keep my eyes set on Him?

this city is a big beautiful sea of faces.  i see them everywhere i go.  there are moments when i feel bigger than life, having a blast, enjoying each moment, experiencing each new and exciting event.  and there are moments when i feel so small, this world, this life is bigger than me.  so much bigger.  and i feel it especially here in london.  i feel small.  and then...there are moments when i feel as though i've done a disappearing act.  i've completely vanished from it all.  i'm not only one in a million, but i'm one in a zillion, one in a million-zillion...i'm too small to be noticed, too tiny to be seen.  it's reassuring to know that i may be super tiny in this great big world, but i am amazingly, inconceivably, outrageously important and big in my Father's eyes.  i am loved beyond measure.  i'm heard and i'm seen at all times by a loving Father who wants desperately for me to see Him.

there are a lot of reasons why i love to disappear in this city.  but i think my favorite is when i disappear and God appears.  it's in my smallest, tiniest, weakest moments that He can be huge.  so i think i'll stay tiny for a bit longer.  i'll continue to listen and follow.  i'll continue to love as unconditionally as my human heart can.  and i'll give it over daily so that God to be huge.


"When you were in trouble, you called, and I saved you.  I answered you with thunder".  
Psalm 8:17

The Wheels On The Bus

the london bus.  i have a love/hate relationship with the bus.  and the drivers.  i love the bus for the ease and excitement.  i hate it for the fear and distrust.  when i travel alone or with heath, i love the bus.  when i travel with the children, it completely freaks me out.  we've been here for almost a year and i still can't quite get over the my bus issues.  and with good reason!  i've had my run-ins with the buses and drivers.  if you live here and you ride a bus regularly, you've had run-ins as well.  it just goes with the territory.

first of all, pedestrians do not have the right away over here.  if you see one of those big, red buses coming your way, you better move!  because it's not going to stop.  i'm actually okay with this to a certain extent.  i mean, think about it, the bus driver is responsible for all of his passengers.  if he slams on his brakes for one person, then he puts all of his passengers at risk for injury as well.  however, when you are the one about to see red paint across your face and tire mark across your tail, you think twice about what it right and wrong for that bus driver.

i've made jokes about playing "frogger" in the streets.  i'm pretty good at it.  i don't play the game when i have my children with me.  we make sure and go when the "green man" appears on the light.  we DON'T cross unless that green man appears.  as a matter of fact, when the kids are with me, i've been known to walk an extra 10 or more minutes to find a proper light that has the green and red man.  i will not cross without those men.  there are too many little hands and feet around me to try and cross a road without having certain "permission".  and i want to make sure that i'm the legal one, that i have the right of passage.  because, if, in case, there is any sort of accident, i'm going to go buck wild on someone's head and i need to make sure that my behavior holds up in court after i've gone crazy.

there are few moments that make me laugh, like yesterday when we were getting off the bus to go to school and i noticed that zane had dirt and black stuff around his mouth.  what could that be from?  he was totally clean when we left the house?  we haven't had time to get dirty?  we've only been on the bus......NOOOOOOOO!  zane had put his mouth all over the bottom of the window while riding on the bus.  agh!  this makes me want to projectile vomit just thinking about it.  so, i just wiped him clean once we got to school, laughed about it and went on my merry way.

there was also the time that my iphone was stolen out of my back pocket while i was distracted by the accomplice.  this was not so funny...

there have been a few incidents lately that have shaken me to my core.  i'm usually a pretty relaxed individual.  happy, a bit carefree....okay, maybe i am on the outside.  i'm wound up pretty tight on the inside when it comes to my children.  i try to relax but they just mean too much to me to relax.  and did i mention all the little hands and feet?  some days i feel like it's twice as many as what they actually have!  they just make continuous circles around me.  and when we are entering and exiting a bus, it can be exhausting.

a couple of weeks ago, we were on our way to school in the pouring rain.  we saw our bus was stopped and already loading people so i told the kids to pick it up a bit.  i don't want them to run to the bus, but we need to step it up.  i was strolling echo and had reese by my side.  the boys rushed up to the bus to go ahead and hop on.  the driver, as little zane was getting on, closed his doors on zane!  zane and maddox were so close to the bus and i yelled for them to back away.  as i yelled, the tasmanian devil came out of me.  i put my arm out to the children and told them,  "stand behind echo's stroller".  (look out, here comes big mama) remember when i said i would go buck wild on someone's head?  well, this day, it was on the bus driver.  i began to slam my fists into his door, literally kicking and screaming at him for closing the doors on my children in the rain.  he simply turned his cheek to me and drove off as i kicked his doors.  now, i'm not proud of this.  and i can't believe that i let myself get so crazy, but it happened.  it happened.

when i returned to the children standing in complete shock they began to ask questions like, "mommy, did you just kick the bus?"  "mommy, are you angry at that bus driver?"  "mommy, were you screaming at the bus driver?"  "mommy did you almost break his door down?"  and as i heard their questions, i saw another mother who looked at me with such understanding.  she even told me that bus drivers do things like that all the time.  well, i bet, but how many times does he have a mama chase his bus down while kicking and screaming?


the most recent incident (and i'm so happy to say that it did not result in an accident) was a couple of weeks ago.  and the reason i write about it now and didn't write about it then is because i couldn't get a grip on how to type it out.  i didn't even know where to start, how to get it out.  i can't really make a joke about it, like a usually do with situations.  because it was a moment in time that i desperately wish didn't happen or that i could take back.  i've lost sleep for many nights.  maddox didn't sleep for 3 nights afterwards.

i shake as i type.

a couple of weeks ago, we were getting off the bus, like we do every day after school.  usually, it's a non-event to get on and off the bus.  i make sure that the children get off the bus first and i count them as they jump down, sometimes i even count out loud.  yep, i'm a freak.  so once the boys had jumped down, reese realized that she'd forgotten her thermos at the back of the bus and ran back to go get it.  i had echo in her stroller and told reese to grab it.  this only took seconds.  it only takes seconds....suddenly, the bus doors closed and the driver started to go.  i stood in complete horror as my mouth dropped open and i saw my boys on the outside of the bus, me and the girls on the inside driving away....i saw maddox's eyes.  wide open.  those eyes.  the shock.  the fear.  oh, the fear.  and i saw my little zane running for the bus.  running to the bus!  he wanted back in.

i could hardly think but in my mind, i knew that zane running to the bus plus those big wheels did not equal anything good.  i think the blood drained from my face to my toes.  it certainly felt that way.

my heart was racing, panic stricken, i could not form words, i could not use my voice.  i could hear and see reese screaming and banging on the glass doors screaming, "no, my brothers!  no, maddox!  no, zane! my brothers!"  (you have to know reese is very protective of them both, when we are getting on a lift or an escalator, she makes SURE they are on! this was one of her biggest fears, to leave her brothers behind).

and in my weakness, all i could do was think, "no, oh my God, my dear Father, please no...."

and truly, by the grace of God, zane did not make it to the doors, or the wheels of the bus for that matter, before three men jumped up from their seats and ran to the driver yelling at him, "stop, there is a mother on here and her children are not on the bus"  others were screaming, "stop the bus!!".  thank God those men had a voice.  saw the situation.  and reacted.

and so, this panic stricken mother was able to get off the bus.  i've never been more solemn or more shaken.  i don't even know if i muttered a "thank you" to those men.  i dizzily ran back to my boys, knelt down and just squeezed.  squeezed.  and i still had no voice.  no words.  i'm not sure i was even breathing.  i may have taken that first breath to inhale the scents of their heads, their hair, their "boy" smell that i so love.

i cry as i type this.

i still have not gotten over it.

i'm not sure when i will.

the burning eyes of maddox, the complete panic of zane, the screams of reese for her brothers.  my stomach goes into knots when i think about it.  the helplessness that i felt makes me queasy.  

i write this blog today because i need to get it out.  i need to write it down.  i need to purge.  this is what keeps me up at night.  this is what wakes me from my sleep.  it grips me, it suffocates me, it swallows me up at times.

i pray for God to take the fear from me.  and i know He will once i finally let Him.  once i give it up and let it go.  and i will, but my stubbornness  clings so tightly to hold onto it.  the memory.  the fear.  the panic.  it's all so fresh, so real, so raw.

you know, there is a verse in the bible that talks about how when we don't know what or how to pray, the Holy Spirit prays for us?  i love the verse.  it's mind boggling to me.  i can't wrap my brain around it.  it's crazy to think about but it's also reassuring to me.  i've had times in my life that i don't know how to pray, what to pray for, where to begin.  but knowing this verse, it gives me comfort knowing that the Holy Spirit has it all under control.  He says the words that i can't come up with.

i'm forever grateful for those men who stood up and yelled,  who knew what to say when i could not, they had words, voices, LOUD and CLEAR voices when i did not.  i've never seen or heard people react like that while i've been on the buses.  i'm so grateful.  and it makes me think, that in my weakness, when i can't speak, when i can't form words because i'm too afraid, too vulnerable, too weak, the Holy Spirit can be just as clear, as loud and as direct as those men where that day.

this gives me great comfort.

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.  Romans 8:26

The Luckiest One

one year ago we held echo for the very first time.  two chinese nannies brought her through a curtain "door" and dropped her into my arms and walked away.  one year ago.  i remember it as if it were the birth of a child.  it was our day.  our moment.  our time.  only ours.  no one knows what we felt, except for the two of us.

every year when i awake to the birthday of one of my children, i have a bitter-sweet feeling.  that breath that i take that says, "ahh, we made it another year".  this year, on echo's second birthday, april 2, i tried to have that feeling.  i wanted it.  but it was different.  not any less special, not any less worthy than my other three.  but it was different.  and i could not put my finger on it.

this morning, our Gotcha Day, i woke up at 4 am and had the feeling.  that "ahh, we made it.  our first year".  today was the day that echo and i shared together.  our day.  the birth of "us", "we".  today was that day.  and i truly felt that bitter sweet feeling.  but with it came another feeling or thought.  i couldn't help but send up a prayer, a question.

"how did You pull all this together, Lord?  when did You begin to tie us together?  was it only last year?  was it the 15 months before when we started the adoption process?  was it during our years of infertility?  was it college, when i was completely interested and thrown for a loop with the whole "nature vs. nurture" concept?  when was it?  and why?  why her?  why us?  why me?"

i've gotten several comments over the last couple of years saying that echo is so lucky.  and she is.  she has 3 amazing siblings, a home, a family, a warm, soft bed at night, food to eat.  oh, she is very lucky.  but the thing that is so amazing is how lucky we are to have her.  she is bright, she is healthy, she is beautiful, she is sweet, she is funny, she is loving....she completed our family.  she was our missing link.

for several years before we brought echo home, i would see asian girls out and about.  some young, some adolescent, some older, some were even very old.  and i could not help but wonder, "where is my little girl?  does she look like you?  doe she act like you?  will i stare at her the way that i desperately want to stare at you right now?"

now that i have echo, i know what she looks like.  i know how she acts.  oh MY, do i know how she acts!  i know so many things about her.  i've caught myself several times in the city walking by an asian girl and smiling to myself.  i no longer have to wonder.  i no longer have to think.  i no longer have to ask the questions.  because i have her.  my girl.  my daughter.  she is home.  she is mine.  i get to watch her grow.  and with God's grace, i will get to watch her grow into that old woman.

lucky.  it's so difficult to hear sometimes.  she came from such an unlucky place with such an unlucky story.  but the day we met up a year ago, it turned around for the both of us.  for our whole family.  we became the luckiest of them all.  we found one another.

if you've ever considered adoption.  looked into the face of another and thought you could possibly love outside of your comfort zone, outside of your "own".  i encourage you to dig deep into your soul.  pray.  allow yourself to be guided.

echo is certainly one lucky girl.  reese, maddox and zane are lucky as well.  they all have one another, they have love in their family.  but i have to think that i am the luckiest.  the most blessed.  really, luck has nothing to do with it.  it is not by chance that we were put together.  it's all one big fat blessing.  and i have the biggest blessing of all.  an indescribable, incomparable, unimaginable kind of blessing.  a random little asian girl, and a random crazy caucasian family were knit together by The Big Guy, himself.  we came together and we are a family.  the luckiest and most blessed of all.

and now i'm off to bed.  because tomorrow is a new day, no longer our Gotcha Day.  just a regular old, crazy mad, insignificant, temper tantrum, food throwing, time-out sentencing, running around, ear piercing, tiring old day.  yep, it will be day one of our journey to reach our Gotcha Day anniversary number 2.  nothing so lucky about that....or is it?

It's In My Memory

zane.  from the moment i met you, i was hooked.  your little puffy eyes, your square feet and tiny little toes, the way you melted into my arms the first time i held you.  you were a blast from the moment we found out that you were going to be born.  the shock and awe of our family and friends when we told them that we were pregnant after just having twins 14 months prior.  i feel like if i had the time to reminisce long enough, then i could conjure up every detail of what it felt like the day you were born.  my memory seems so clear.



last weekend we celebrated zane's 4th birthday.  the age 4 is one of my favorites.  children are still really young, they are super cute, their language is well developed and they say the BEST things!



some of my favorites:
"mommy, i want to hold you."
"i wuv you."
"can you snuggle me?"
"i want to kiss your wips."
"can i sweep wid you?"

zane has an amazing talent.  the boy can squeeze his way into your arms and into a perfect snuggle position without you even knowing it.  it's his favorite past time, to snuggle.  well, snuggling and making loud obnoxious noises...that's his other talent.  he just tucks himself right into, on top, under, around, through, behind, or in front of the person he wants to snuggle and he goes for it.  he claims that space as his own.  and if he has his lovie, raffie, with him, then he sticks those two middle fingers in and goes silent.  and to top it off, with the middle fingers in his mouth, it makes the "i love you" symbol with his hand!  it's awesome!  he's warm, silent and smells of "zane".  it's one of my favorite things.

just this past weekend we were scootering in the park sunday afternoon and we decided to get some ice cream.  the kids were silent as they devoured their ice creams.  after finishing our cones zane asked the question, "hey guys!  guess where all my ice cream is?"  heath and i both replied, "it's in your tummy!"  and zane said, "no, it's in my memory!!!"  we thought it was so funny and so clever for him to say such a thing that we both laughed.  yes, of course, that's where the ice cream is, in his memory!   duh!

already, i can look back, just over the past 4 quick years that have gone by and realize that time goes by in a blink.  it happens so quickly.  i look back at pictures and can remember the best of times.  i remember the happiness, the joy, the CRAZY moments, the love....oh those sweet tiny babies.   believe me, i can also remember the difficulty of it all as well.  the late nights, the early mornings, the lack of sleep, the whining, the crying.  the chaos.  the pandemonium.  but we all keep growing.  we are making our memories.  we are making them together.

each time we bring a child into our lives, they change us.  my children have made me stronger, quicker and more joyful.  though i wonder why it is that my weakness comes out so easily when i see them hurt or suffering, or why i feel so slow when they are moving circles around me and i just can't seem to catch up, or why my frustration comes out in quick sudden bursts.  they bring out the best in me and they bring out the worst.

little zane has only been in my life for 4 years.  how is it possible that life ever existed without him?  without any of them?  you know that question that parents ask themselves, "what did we DO with ourselves before we had kids!?"  well, actually, i can answer that one.  and life was really good...sleeping late, eating warm meals, cooking for two, late nights, endless conversations, doing what i wanted, pretty much when i wanted to.  yep, life was pretty good.

but truly, this is so much better.  i'll take the early mornings, the cold meals, cooking for what feels like 20 screaming monkeys, early nights because i'm so dog tired. broken, scattered, completely interrupted conversations with heath...and i'm doing what i want.  maybe not when i want to but it's certainly what i want.  these are our memories that we are making.

zane, i don't care how old you are or how big you get.  i will always want to hold you.  i will always want to kiss you.  you will always have a hold on me.  you will always melt my heart.  you are my baby.  you are in my memory.

I thank my God every time I remember you.  Philippians 1:3

Happy 4th bithday, Zane!!!

My Name is David

i have made a few friends since moving here.  friendships are one of the most important things to me and without them, i don't function quite as well.  i have made all kinds of friends in my lifetime and i plan to make many, many more.  my dad use to tell me that if i could count the number of "true" friends on one hand, then i'm doing really good...well then, i consider myself amazingly blessed because i could fill up all my fingers and toes with the amount of "true" friends that i have.  if you combine the group of friends that i have along with the group of friends that heath has and you put them together, than we are doing better than just good.  much better than good.

back in january, heath and i had taken the children out for dinner and a special treat.  they were allowed to get ice cream and then we bought each of them a small gift for earning "house points" for doing extra special things around the house.  (the house point idea came from reese and maddox's amazing teacher!).  after our grand adventure out into the city, we started to make our way home.  and when we came out of the mall we'd been in, we realized it had been snowing!!!  i love snow...maybe even more than my children do.  when i was a teacher, we would tell our students to wear their pajamas inside out so that it would surely snow.  (and guess who else would wear hers inside out in hopes that it would bring us snow?)

yes, i love snow.  so on this night, i was feeling more than blessed.  an amazing night out with my family in a really cool city.  ice cream, toys and now SNOW!  it couldn't have been better.  it was when we got off the bus to make our way home and we passed by a homeless man, that i could not help but feel a pull in my gut.  here we were celebrating the snow.  cheering.  PRAYING for it to snow more, harder, bigger, colder snowflakes.....

was this man wishing...praying for the opposite?  what did the snow mean for him?  where would he find shelter tonight?  did he have enough to keep him warm?

i've passed by a few homeless people here in the city.  you can't dodge it in a big city.  homelessness is everywhere here.  you can't always see it, but it's here.  lurking in corners, crouched on steps , pushed back from the crowd.  hiding.  it's there.  and i always have that pull in my gut.  haven't you felt that pull too?

so when we passed this man on this particular night, i, like always tried to put it behind me as we passed him.  but once we'd gotten in the door of our nice warm flat.  our shelter.  our warmth.  i looked at heath and i think he knew right away what was wrong.  i told him i had to go back out there.  i had to bring him an umbrella, something.  i couldn't just leave him there.  i could no longer walk past him.  i'd walked past him already too many times.  i could not leave him tonight.  so i grabbed the umbrella and started to rush back out when heath called for me,

"mistye, give him this...."


and out i ran with my umbrella and some cash.  my husband, just when i think that i need to do something for someone else, he pushes me to do more.  that's the great thing about our marriage, i'm not afraid of the "doing" and he is not afraid of the "giving".

i ran back out and crouched down to give him his things.  he looked up and smiled, "God bless you", he said.  i gulped back my words.  i didn't know what to say.  i hadn't expected much conversation.  i told him to keep warm through the night and i began to walk away....

but i'd only gotten a few steps when i felt it, the pull in my gut.  giving was not enough.  (remember, i like the "doing") so i ran back to him. and stretching out my hand.  i said, "i'm sorry, i didn't get your name.  my name is mistye."  he looked me dead in the eyes with his beautiful hazel green eyes and said, "my name is david" and shook my hand.  we spoke briefly about the snow.  and i told him that i'd seen him out often and it was nice to finally meet him and that i was so happy to know his name now.  he smiled and said he felt the same.

since that night, there has not been a day that david does not cross my mind or my heart.  i began to pray for the chance to see him again.  he sits out in front of a crispens mini grocery store across from my flat so if anyone had a chance to see him, it would have to be me!

finally, one night when we needed milk and bread at around 7 pm, i ran across the street to pick some up.  and there he was!  i ran inside and immediately filled a bag with extra goodies.  apples, water, milk, and peanuts.  i almost forgot what we needed for ourselves....oh, yes, milk and bread!  i grabbed my things and ran back out to give him his bag of food.

"hi david!"  


"oh, mistye!  hi!"   (yes, he remembered me too)

i told him that i'd been waiting to see him again and i was glad to get a chance to say hello tonight.  he smiled and said thank you and i was on my way again.

it was the third time seeing him that we became friends.  the third time, i felt comfortable enough to sit with him and talk to him about who he is and why he is homeless.  his story is probably not very different than many others.  he was in a war (shame that i don't remember which one!).  he's in his 40s. he came back from war and can't get back on track.  he is injured and having trouble getting over the war situation.  he is from scotland with no family left.  he said the cold weather doesn't bother him here in london because it's not nearly as cold as what it is in scotland.  david is a bright man.  i can tell by his vocabulary. david never smells of alcohol.  i've never seen a drink in his hand.  he reads books.  he is looking for assisted housing.  he had an interview coming up and he wanted a shower.  so i asked him what i could do to help him today.  and he said he needed bus money to get to the shower so he could look presentable for his housing interview.

bus money is next to nothing.  so i gave him that and little more and told him to get a sandwich after his shower.  after we said goodbye, i turned to look back at him.  he was jumping up and rushing to the next bus...

i saw david the following day.  sitting on a bench, reading a newspaper, looking very happy.  and very clean.

i've seen david several times since then and we always exchange conversations.  i've sat with him a few times to talk.  although his scottish accent is thick, we still manage to understand one another pretty well.  but then, accents don't need to get in the way of a friendship, right?

yes, i've made all kinds of friends.  david is one of them.  a very different, but equally as special, friend.  he teaches me not to turn away when we feel that pull in our gut.  that voice that says to turn back.  that call from God.  because that's what it is.  a calling.  our calling.  to give and to do.

friendships are important to me.  without them, i don't function quite as well.  i hope that david is able to function a little better, himself, knowing that he has a friend out there.



Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another.  Proverbs 27:17 

You Don't Know

going home to the states was exciting for a lot of reasons.  one of the main reasons it's always great to go home is to see our loved ones.  friends a family cannot be replaced.  so when we arrived home, i had the list in my head of who i wanted and needed to see.  the list was LONG but i was determined to do my best.

one of these special friends happens to be my Eyebrow Lady.  i know her actual name but have great fun in calling her Eyebrow Lady.   i even told her one day that i call her this and she thought it was hysterical.  i saw her every three weeks for almost 6 years to do a little maintenance on my brows.  we met, for the first time, when my husband bought my mom and i a facial from her after my twins were born in 2006.  not only did i enjoy going to her because of the miracles she performed on my face but because of our conversations. she was such a deep and honest thinker.  her heart was always interested in others.  she had a lot of questions.  and had a lot of answers.  we would have great conversations about worldly issues, religion, people, finances, places, friends, children and so much more.  i considered her a friend.

a few years ago, when i came in, she asked me some questions about my faith and wanted to hear what i had to say.  it was one of the first times that i was more calm in my response.  for me, talking out loud about my faith, makes me jittery,  nervous,  sometimes embarrassed, when it is with someone that i feel as though i'm trying to justify it to.  i'm not good at memorizing scripture, i'm not eloquent with my words, i'm just a regular old mama who believes utterly and faithfully in something that i cannot explain or justify.

her mother, who lived in kazakhstan, had recently passed away and she was having a difficult time with it.  she wanted to see her again.  she wanted to know the true meaning of life. she didn't want her mother's life to just be what it was, a life.  here and then gone.  it seemed too painful for her.  too simple.  there had to be more.

as she worked on my eyebrows, i explained to her what i believed to be true about Christ and how it is that we get to Heaven.  it wasn't a flowery explanation, i didn't have cool words to woo her or anything of that sort.  she was skeptical and told me that she did not believe the same way but thought that there might be a higher power of some sort.  she seemed to be chewing on what i'd said but i could also tell she may have thought that i was off my rocker.  a little crazy in the head.  haaha  (okay, i'll take that)

after that conversation with her, i started to feel a pull toward her.  i would pray for her daily, regularly.  actually, she was the reason why i began to pray even more.  she was on my mind often.  when i sat in church, i would think of her.  months went by and we would have other small conversations about prayer or spiritual "well-being".  she was always trying to know more mainly because she loved to hear her clients talk.  she has a great listening ear!

after even more months went by, i gathered up the courage to send her a card, letting her know that i adored our friendship and that i was praying for her.  later, i felt the need (really it felt like more of a calling) to give her a book about my faith, "how good is good enough" by andy stanley.  and then there was a sermon that i attended that i felt so much of a pull for her that i bought the CD, as we were leaving, to give to her.  i kept that CD in my car for a month or more!  i listened to it endlessly.  over and over.  i desperately wanted to give it to her but i was so afraid.  i knew it would answer some of her questions about life but i was scared that i was coming on too strong.  and pushy people drive me nuts.  i did not want to be a pushy person.  and yet, i felt a nudge...asking me to be "persistent".  as last summer approached, i decided to drop by her business and give her the CD with a card.  i told her that it was a sermon and may sound a little crazy to her but i'd had it in my car for her for a couple of months and it was burning a whole in my glove box so i needed to hand it over!  she laughed and took it from me.

the next time i saw her, she told me she had listened to the CD and enjoyed it.  she still did not believe the same as i did but she enjoyed the sermon very much.  (okay, i'll take that)

summer was ending and we began to pack for London.  i teared up a little when i left my Eyebrow Lady.  i told her how special she was to me and that i viewed her as a friend, not just my Eyebrow Lady.  we hugged and she said that we had a connection that very few people have.  we agreed that our souls were much the same.  our souls just "jived".

we moved in August.

four weeks ago, back in the states for a visit, i decided i would call my Eyebrow Lady.  i had saved up my brows just for her.  they were nice and bushy!  i would be renewing my vows with heath and i wanted them looking their best.  i couldn't wait to see her, to tell her about London, to tell her about renewing my vows, to ask her about her daughters, to ask her how her dad in kazakhstan was doing.  she had been planning a visit to see him in September and was super excited so i wanted to know how it went and how he was doing after his wife's death.

i called to make my appointment and the receptionist answered the phone.  it was a familiar voice and she asked where i'd been.  i told her we lived out of the country now but that we were visiting and i wanted to see if my girl was available for an eyebrow wax on friday.

the receptionist paused...."oh.....you don't know, do you?"

know?  no.  i don't know.  know what?


she continued to pause for a really long time.  so long, in fact, that i had time to think of things that could be going on.

-she left the job?
-she was fired?
-she moved back to kazakhstan?
-she was in a car accident?


the receptionist said, "mistye, valentin was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in September. it was already stage four.  she passed away in November."

no....please, God, no.  i needed more time with her!  i wasn't there for her.  she was a dear friend.  i didn't get to say goodbye.


the receptionist stayed on the phone with me for quite some time.  Eyebrow Lady had wanted to not tell her clients the truth.  she wanted her coworkers to tell us that she'd moved back to Kazakhstan and would not return.  she did not want us to know that she was dying.  fortunately, her coworkers talked her into telling everyone the truth.  when she passed, she left behind her ailing father, her doting husband and her two beautiful young-adult daughters.

i'm still in shock and disbelief over her death.  i'm still saddened by it to no end.  i have no answers for why her life was taken so young or so quickly.  but i do know why i felt such a pull to talk to her about Christ, to share my faith.  i now know why there was such a pull, such a draw to her, especially in the end.  i know why i could not get her off my mind and my heart.  i know that i was put in her life for a reason.  and she was in mine for a reason.  she is a good lesson to me to follow my Lord when i feel Him say "hurry".  "don't wait until tomorrow, tell her today".  "don't be embarrassed, just say it from your heart".


it's taken me a while to register the news.  to think about the what-ifs. what if i'd been more vocal about my faith?  what if i'd been more pushy?  what if i'd sat down with her and helped her to understand, to believe?  to have faith?  why not ask her to give it a chance?  open her mind her to the possibilities?

i once heard from andy stanley, in a sermon to non-believers, "in accepting Christ as your savior, you have everything to gain.  in not accepting Christ, you have everything to lose.  so why not believe in the possibility,  why not choose to believe?".

my lesson from this is that i want to talk to my friends who don't know Christ's love.  i don't want to be pushy.  i want to be persistent.  because you don't know.  you don't know what kind of difference you can make in someone else's life.  you don't know how your actions can change someone's views, beliefs, outlook.  you just don't know.

i understand that i was not the only Christian in Valentin's life.  she had some really great girlfriends that she spoke of who also believed and wanted her to open up to the possibility as well.  i can only hope that i did a small part in rattling her heart as well.  who knows.

i like to think that i'll have an answer to this one day when i go to Heaven.  i hope to see her there.  i hope to hear the story of how she accepted Christ as her Savior.  i want her to show me around Heaven.  maybe she can do my eyebrows!

Jesus answered, "I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. John 14:6