Category: Hard Things

walking with a limp

I am officially “old”. I know this because yesterday, when I was getting out of my van, I somehow pulled a muscle in (around? near?) my hip. Yes, really. I am now hurting-yourself-while-getting-out-of-a-vehicle years old. Insert eyeroll here.

So now, my hip is sore. And I’ve been walking with a slight limp for the past day and a half. My brain is still trying to catch up with what I may have done to cause this while doing a perfectly normal activity of daily living. It’s a bit mind-boggling to me. But, it is what it is, and I will just be limping until it heals or until I decide to go to the doctor.

But truthfully, this couldn’t have been a more perfect real-life illustration of something I heard later in the day yesterday. I love to listen to podcasts while I fold laundry. And since I often have buckets and buckets of laundry, I often am listening to podcasts. I’d love to share some of my favorites with you, but maybe that’s a topic for another post.

Yesterday, I was listening to this excellent episode of The Glass House with Ben and Lynley Mandrell, talking with some friends about adoption and special needs in “the glass house.” The Glass House is a term they use for living life in pastoral ministry. And this episode is one that I actually personally requested over a year ago. In the intro, they mention how it is an often requested topic, and I am SO glad they have finally delivered on this. I have been hoping and praying they would address this facet of life in the glass house, and it was so worth the wait. The episode truly knocks it out of the park, and I urge you to give it a listen. It is descriptive and insightful while being helpful, validating, and inspiring.

There were many, many sound bites I could quote from this episode. But a statement that guest Lange Patrick made about “walking with a limp” profoundly struck me. As an adoptive parent, he has had to make adjustments to his own life and ministry in ways that he maybe would not have had to adapt if he were not parenting special needs and adopted children. We know this from our own lives as adoptive parents. Life just looks different than we expected or imagined. But Lange’s summative statement about this was simply that, “I will just always walk with a limp.” And it clicked for me.

He did not make this statement about limping (or disability in general) being a bad thing. I believe it is just recognizing that things are different and living within that difference. Things can be good and hard all at the same time. And to this I say, “YES!” This is what I needed to hear yesterday. And today. And tomorrow.

I am not a stranger to disability. I have a hearing impairment that has left me deaf in one ear. It’s something I am used to now, and I just live life with one hearing ear. Sure, it has its disadvantages (masks, anyone?). But I have learned to adapt.

Still, I have not, until now, really embraced the thought that the trauma and special needs and mental illnesses and disabilities of my children are also my disabilities, and I will bear the marks of those in my own life for the rest of my life. I will walk through life, yes. But I will walk with a limp.

I know that embracing the truth of what is will allow me to cling to Jesus as I persevere. The hard things will be there. When I’m tempted to be discouraged that I can’t be used by God because my life looks different than other “more productive” disciples, I need to speak truth to myself. God can use the parts of me that I find discouraging. And he can still use me. He will uphold and empower me to accomplish His purposes.

I think of Derek Redmond’s 1992 Olympic finish in the 400-meter semi-final in Barcelona. Redmond sprains his ankle just shy of 200 meters, and limps to the finish line. But he doesn’t do it alone. While Redmond is clearly in pain, at about 300 meters, his father comes down from the stands and supports him as he all but collapses in agony onto his father’s shoulder. They walk together, Redmond still limping, to finish the race. You can watch this emotional moment in less than three minutes here. You won’t regret it.

This is how life goes sometimes, is it not? At times, the suffering may be so profound that we feel in our core that there is no way we can finish the race without the Father holding us up. We need Him to bear us up on wings like eagles. To run and not be weary. To walk and not faint. But not only emotionally and spiritually. We need our community who comes around us to be His hands and feet in these times. Our people who walk beside us in the trenches, who come out of the spectator’s stands and get in the game with us. Church, we desperately need you! We need each other.

Second, I think of the New Heavens and New Earth where Revelation 21 promises us that we will be healed both spiritually and physically. There will be no more pain. There will be no more limp in my step. My children who trust in Jesus will be with me in the presence of the King, healed and happy. They will have no more trauma, no more special needs, no more mental illness, no more disability. We will together rejoice fully in God’s resplendent glory and power, and will be whole. Forever.

So while I may be (quite literally today) walking with a limp, I am still on this journey set before me. With God’s strength and the aid of His people the Church, I will persevere even when it is painful. And we will all press on to our heavenly healing with hope.

yesterday’s faithfulness; tomorrow’s promises

I’m trying to get more exercise. My body and my mind need it. But my body and my mind also really love to sleep. And I have a new soft, warm, fluffy comforter. It’s magical. The struggle is real.

This morning, I finally succeeded at prying myself out of bed at an hour early enough to allow time for me to drink my coffee, spend time in the Word (and read my current devotional book), and plod downstairs to the treadmill.

The treadmill had cobwebs on it.

Yikes. It’s been a while. Kind of like my blog.

Well, this morning, I swept the cobwebs off the treadmill, and got going. And now I will wipe the cobwebs off my blog and get going. Often, it’s easier for me to think about writing, and even get excited about my intentions to write. But I hit the proverbial “snooze” button instead. Just like with excercise, I just need to take the first step. I need to pry myself from the comfort of my thoughts and let my feet hit the floor.

Or let my fingers hit the keys. I think you get it.

Well, when I exercise, I like to listen to either a podcast or an audiobook. I like to engage my mind while I engage my body. Sometimes I like fluffy stuff with little concentration required. Other times I like heavy stuff where I really need to work at it. Today I chose a podcast including a message from a Gospel Coalition message on corporate prayer. It was a good mix of funny, (fluffy) and thoughtful (heavy).

I was struck by the reminder, about one-third of the way through John Owunchekwa’s message, that “because God doesn’t change, His past faithfulness is really a future promise.” God has been faithful. God is faithful. God will be faithful.

This immediately drew me to recall some Scripture that I meditate on often. I know I’ve even talked about it on my blog before. You can probably tell it’s a pillar in my mind and heart. I will risk beating the same drum again. Lamentations 3:

Remember my affliction and my wanderings,
the wormwood and the gall!
My soul continually remembers it
and is bowed down within me.
But this I call to mind,
and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”

Lamentations 3:19-24

We remember what God has brought us through. We remember His character. And we can see His faithfulness to provide His portion for us in the future. Praise God!

Prayer helps us in thinking through this. It allows us to recall God’s faithfulness. And when we ask in faith, we can trust His promises to be faithful in answering. We can hope in Him.

This year has been doozy. For kids with trauma–specifically in our context, adoption trauma–2020 has brought with it added layers. But just as for us, God has been faithful to our children. He cares for our children. We can have hope in His steadfast love and His faithfulness.

God’s provision and gentle faithfulness to our precious kids in their yesterdays stands as a promise for His faithfulness to them in their tomorrows. Weary parent, as you shepherd your little flock of hurting and anxious sheep, hope in Him! Great is His faithfulness!

If you would like to interact a bit, I would be edified to hear in the comments some ways in which God has been faithful to you in this season of all that “2020” encompasses to you. Praying for you all, friends.

ten

February 28, 2020 marked ten years of life without my mom. At the age of 26, I lost my mom to ovarian cancer. I had a premature baby boy who was three months old at the time, but we had not yet even reached his due date (March 15). On that particular February 28 — 2010 — my son slept in his NICU bassinet in a hospital across town, while I sat by my mom’s side as she left this world.

Life has not been the same since.

But, the same God that sustained me through those days sustains me still today. His steadfast love reaches to the heavens, and His faithfulness to the clouds (Psalm 36:5). Those days were so long. So full of uncertainty. So packed with driving from one hospital to the other. Yet, the thing I remember most from those days is God’s abounding love and care for me and His peace reigning deep in my heart. He truly poured out His grace and mercy in that time to meet every need of my heart.

Psalm 36:7-9
How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.

This year, as February dwindled on, and I waited for the 28th to come for now the tenth time since she’s been gone, God gave me peace anew. He gave me refuge in His strong and tender wings. In His lovingkindness, He allowed most of the often-gray February days to be full of unexpected sunshine instead. What a gift! He provided encouragement from friends and in His word. He provided patience. He provided peace.

Life has not been the same since she died. But God has been the same and has proven Himself faithful and steadfast in all things. The well of His mercy will never run dry.

Psalm 36:8-9
They feast on the abundance of your house,
and you give them drink from the river of your delights.
For with you is the fountain of life;
in your light do we see light.

My prayer as I move forward to the next decade of life without my mom here, as I continue to learn how to live this “normal” that is neither new, nor familiar, is that I will drink ever more deeply from the river of His delights. That I will know more and more each day that my loving, faithful, sheltering, redeeming God is the source of life and peace.

To God be the glory.

Our Only Hope

I hear and see a lot of talk about “hope” in circles of parents of challenging children. By that I mean those kids of ours who add an extra layer of “figuring them out.” 😉 We talk about what hope(s) we have for our kids. What diagnoses or treatments or scientific discoveries we are hoping for. Hope for a small respite from the struggle of the muddle of life.

But what always strikes me with deep sadness is the discussion of wanting to even have something to hope for in the first place. The lack of hope that some people have. I weep with and for these friends. Feeling hopeless — feeling as though you are truly without any hope — is truly devastating. It is when I consider that depth of “hopelessness” that I am drawn to plead for God’s mercy to open the eyes of the hopeless. For hopelessness to be replaced by confidence in God’s goodness and grace. Because we do not have to live without hope!

As Christians, we have a True Reason to hope. Psalm 71 says, “For you, O Lord, are my hope.” The Psalmist exhorts himself to remember his Hope in Psalm 42, …

“Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation and my God.”

Psalm 42:5, repeated again in verse 11

For the better part of 2018, my kids and I were working through the New City Catechism. Actually, we are still going through it. I referenced this great resource in my Favorites of 2018 blog post. For those who are unfamiliar with the concept of a catechism, I will cite the definition that came up on google when I typed in “catechism”:

a summary of the principles of Christian religion in the form of questions and answers, used for the instruction of Christians.

~google

A catechism like this one can be an amazing resource to teach our children the truths of God’s word in a concise and memorable way, giving them many tools to pull from their toolbox when confronted with the doubts and questions of life.

But as we instruct our children, there is a beautiful “side effect.” As most teachers know, when we instruct our students, we are instructing our own hearts as well. I have found these simple songs and sentences invaluable to counsel my own heart.

I bring up this catechism because of what it has done for my own soul in times of temptation toward hopelessness. The very first Question and Answer in the New City Catechism for children is so beautiful and comforting. It lays a foundation for our understanding of Hope.

Q: What is our only hope in life and death?

A: That we are not our own, but belong to God.

When I see discussion about hope, or the lack thereof, I think of the above question, in the form of this song. It comforts me. And it becomes the focus of my prayer for those who do not know the peace of God.

Our hope is that we are the Lord’s. This is our only hope. And it is enough. What could be more essential to the comfort of our souls in times of despair than remembering that we belong to the Creator who loves us deeply and holds our lives in His hands?

May we who are in the family of God be comforted with the peace that passes all understanding. This True Hope. May those who do not know this peace and assurance be made to see and understand!

When we are tempted to despair and feel hopeless, especially as it relates to parenting, teaching, training, disciplining, diagnosing, helping, and discipling our children, may we remember that we are the Lord’s. And what’s more, so are our precious children. When we stop seeing our children as being our own possessions, but as God’s possession, we can rest in His purposes for their lives.

We need not lose hope, because God is our Hope and we belong to Him.

[I will add a small footnote here. For a further discussion on the topic of “hope,” may I direct you to a sermon my dear husband preached this past December during Advent, titled, “Hold Fast to Hope”? I think you will be encouraged.]

Chasing Rainbows

I know I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again. Being a parent is a wonderful and beautiful gift. And being a parent is hard. It is a blessing. But it can be a hard blessing. Parenting a child from a hard place can sometimes be HARD (with all caps). But I think that just means it has the potential to be equally a BLESSING (with all caps). We are challenged and we grow through those challenges. We become more compassionate, softer, gentler. God uses these hard things to produce His fruit in us. What a privilege.

I know we all want the best for our kids. We want them to thrive! We want to give them everything they need, and then some. We would give them the moon if we could! We want to meet their physical and emotional needs, but we also long to shepherd them spiritually, leading them to the Savior.

 I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth. (3 John 4)

Well, lately, I have been feeling particularly discouraged with my ability to meet the needs of my kids. Discerning needs and knowing how to adequately shepherd a child can be so daunting sometimes. Sometimes it is easy (hallelujah!). When a child is hungry, feed him. That’s an easy one.

But when a child is having a meltdown tantrum, things can get dicey. The task of figuring out what they need and how to help them can be so. stinking. hard. Is it just because he is not getting what he wants? Is she struggling to process emotions and this is how it is all coming out? Do I discipline or do I nurture through this? Where is the instruction book?! Add in layers of trauma, loss, and a less than ideal prenatal and/or postnatal environment for our adopted kiddos, and you can add more layers of confusion and “what if’s” and “what now’s.”

This is where I am convicted. In conversations with friends, I have said that I don’t want to be just chasing rainbows, looking for the “next best thing” to help solve this or that problem. Yes, we have sleep issues in our house. Yes, we have sensory disorders. Yes, we have emotional delays. Yes, we have dysregulated emotions. Yes, we likely have a handful of diagnoses that have been overlooked. These are all things that can be addressed. And I long to meet the needs that I am able to, in my imperfect, human abilities. But there is no cure-all apart from Christ.

I have felt how these thoughts and concerns (dare I say anxieties?) can consume me in ways that take focus off of God’s Lordship and Power and Sufficiency, and putting it smack onto myself and my own (in)abilities. My sinful flesh deludes me into thinking that I can solve these “issues” in my own strength. What a lie that is!

This is where I need to check myself. We need to check ourselves. Are we seeking the Lord about what to address and when to address it? Or are we just chasing rainbows, trying to solve all of our world’s problems in one fell swoop?

The past several weeks, I have often found myself asking God for wisdom. I want to help. I want to “fix” her world so that she doesn’t have to face these challenges! These challenges that are not even her fault, but are part of her story.  And part of my story, because she is mine.

But is what I am seeing a result of the challenges? Or a result of her (and my!) fallen, sinful nature? I can go around and around all day long and chase my proverbial tail trying to “figure it all out” in my own strength. For all the asking I do for God’s wisdom, I sometimes feel like I’m missing the mark. I know in Whom I have hope, and I know that He will give wisdom when I ask. It says in James 1:5, …

If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach.

Clinging to this promise, I have asked many times, “Why do I still feel wisdom-less? Why can I not find the ‘answer’ to help solve this problem?!” This is such a discouraging place to be.

But, God.

A few weeks ago, a guest preacher spoke at our church. He came all the way from New Jersey to bring a message on 1 Kings 19. Guys, guess what 1 Kings 19 is about. It is about Elijah laying under a shade tree in his discouragement, and God sending an angel to sustain him in his weakness.

1 Kings 19: 5-8
But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness and came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, “It is enough; now, O LORD …” … And he lay down and slept under a broom tree. And behold, an angel touched him and said to him, “Arise and eat.” And he looked, and behold, there was at his head a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water. And he ate and drank and lay down again. And the angel of the LORD came again a second time and touched him and said, “Arise and eat, for the journey is too great for you.” And he arose and ate and drank, and went in the strength of that food forty days and forty nights to Horeb, the mount of God.

It is about Elijah being discouraged and hearing God answer not in a strong wind, not in an earthquake, not in a fire, but in a whisper.

And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper.

I felt like this message was God’s whisper to me. I had been pleading for wisdom and answers and solutions, and “hearing” none. I was looking for the obvious earthquake of an answer. But in this whisper, through the encouragement God gave to Elijah in his valley of discouragement, it was as though God was asking me to rest in Him. This is the journey He has for me. He will provide what I need for the journey. As I rest, He will bring the cakes.

What if it doesn’t ever get any easier? God never promises that He will give us solutions to our problems tied up all neatly with a bow. What if this is exactly where God wants me? What if this is what God has for me? For us? For you? What if our kids will always have these needs and we will always be tempted to chase after rainbows for them? Of course we want what is best for them and we want to help them when we can. But are we trying to force God’s hand to give answers on our timeline? Or are we willing to rest, waiting on God to provide the right answers at the right time? Are we willing to be faithful to patiently, gently, mercifully love our kids through their hardships while listening for the whisper when it comes?

I was challenged in a conversation I had with a good friend recently. We were talking through this scenario, of struggling through this asking and waiting and the hard days that sometimes come in the meantime. And she encouraged me to “suffer well.” If God has ordained this road for me to walk (and if I believe what the Bible says, then I believe He HAS ordained each of my days!), then how can we suffer well?

Is God still good if it never gets easier? Does God still get the glory even in our difficult days? Of course He is and of course He does. How can I follow the instruction of 1 Corinthians 10:31?

So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.

When we acknowledge our kids’ hard needs, and that we truly cannot meet those needs apart from Christ’s saving work on the cross, we can rest in the sovereign and sustaining hand of God, knowing that He will provide strength and wisdom for the journey. He will equip us by His hand. And He will get the glory in our weakness. We must not delude ourselves into thinking that we are the answer. That our challenges are somehow beyond the scope of God’s sovereign hand. He is able! He is holy and loving and good. He cares for us!

Let us follow the advice of Hebrews 12:1-2. Put off our sinful rainbow-chasing, and fix our eyes on Jesus who alone is able. May our thoughts be consumed by thoughts of Him rather than thoughts of ourselves. He will empower us for this race that he has set before us!

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

For further reading surrounding these topics, here are A couple great resources by David Powlison from “Resources for Changing Lives”:
…on Worry.
…on Stress.
{amazon affiliate links}

My heart. The need. My aim. My plan.

It’s no secret that I love adoption. Orphan care is near and dear to me. I will champion the cause of adoption all the live long day.

But it’s also no secret (at least to those of us who live in adoption), that adoption is messy. And beautiful. And wonderful. And so hard. And so worth it.

I could speak here about the doctrine of adoption, God’s longsuffering with us, His Father-love for us as his children, grafted in by the blood of Jesus. But I think I will reserve that for another day and another post. It deserves its own spotlight, and has so much to teach us about our Good, Good Father.

But right now, I am talking about human adoption. Taking a child who was not born to you and bringing them into your family as though they were born to you. It is a miracle. The ability to do this is truly a work of God.

How I am able to love another woman’s child just as I love my own blood is a beautiful, messy miracle. And I do it with joy, not by my own will-power, but by the supernatural work of God’s strength and love in me.

For years now, I have felt a deep need for Biblical encouragement for moms like me. “Moms in the muddle.” In the trenches of adoption-life. This road has unique challenges that few can understand without being in it yourself. Our kids come from uniquely hard places. Which is why my heart is to encourage moms like me. Because I know I need it, too!!

The problem I’ve found, though, is that many of the resources geared toward parenting are either just not quite on the mark for parents of “kids from hard places” OR they are devoid of Biblical truth. I appreciate good strategies for parenting adopted kids. And I appreciate Biblically sound parenting books. I’ve read several great ones, and profited from many.

But why can’t we marry the two? We believe that the Bible is true. And 2 Timothy 3:16-17 says that, “All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work.” So why separate things? We need good, Biblical resources that help us to counsel our own hearts and parent our kids (specifically our adopted or foster kids) better.

There is something to be said for having someone who “gets it” speaking into your life with practical, Biblical truth. We all–and I am speaking to myself here!–need to be reminded daily of how the word of God informs our lives and parenting. How Christ is sufficient for our specific challenges and difficulties.

So my heart is for moms like me. And I guess I could say my aim is to speak to myself (and anyone else who will listen) with the truth of the Gospel and how it can practically inform our everyday struggles, especially as adoptive parents. God’s word can and will equip us as parents to, by God’s Grace, meet the unique needs of our unique children.

My mind and heart have been on this issue for years now. I’ve thought countless times about how I could approach this in a helpful way, and not seem like I’m floundering in a sea of not knowing how to say what I want to say. So I’ve continued to wait until the time was right and the plan was clear.

A few weeks ago, I asked Ryan, “Do you think I should start a blog?” Being the ever-encouraging husband that he is, without missing a beat he replied, “Absolutely, yes!” With such a loving vote of confidence, how could I refuse? 🙂 But I had no idea what to write about, and wanted a clear topic and plan. So my next question for him was, “What should I write about?” And because he knows my heart so well, he immediately suggested I write from this perspective that I have been parked in for years now. He has helped me to develop this plan to express my heart for moms like me with my aim of Biblical encouragement in mind. He is a very patient, very good man.

Well there. I got it out. That is my heart, my aim, my plan. If you are, like me, seeking refreshment from the Word for your weary mama-soul, while caring for children with needs that drive you to your knees out of love and desperation at the same time, then I hope you will come and see what God’s Word has for us. My perspective will be as a parent, and may often deal with issues that are specific to adoption and adoptive parenting. But no matter your circumstance, I pray that you may be encouraged; even if you are a parent of only biological children, a parent with adult children, or not a parent at all! The Gospel is good news to all of us at all times. Let’s rejoice in the truth of God’s word together!