Longing for Home

When I pulled up to 15539 Keppen in Allen Park last December, I instinctively expected to see the faces of our older girls peering out the window at me, waving me in. I expected to see a Dora big wheel parked in the driveway or a tiny picnic table retired from its summer duties, collecting the first snow of the season.

Instead, I saw a “For Sale” sign in the yard. Instead, I saw an empty porch, an abandoned driveway, and tightly closed blinds. No signs of the life we once knew there.

But I quickly remembered what we were selling and what we weren’t. Our family memories weren’t for sale. I didn’t pack up those. And the mistakes made, lessons learned, forgiveness sought, and gospel seeds sown weren’t for sale either. So I let our house go in that moment, knowing God had used it for his purposes in our life and that season was over.

When we first moved into our love shack on Keppen, we hadn’t been married a year. We shared our frozen wedding cake on our 1-year anniversary, seated on our slip-covered couch in the living room. That house was our proving ground as newlyweds, as employees, as church members, as evangelists, and as new parents. So much of the work God has done in our life started within those four walls.

First Anniversary

We learned to work together on managing a house and its projects and responsibilities and eventually fell into a good rhythm of what became my duties and what became Matt’s. It was one of our first partnerships. We learned to wait for things we wanted that we couldn’t afford (or to give up wishing for them!). And, we saw God provide through hard work and the generous gifts of friends and family.

We cut our teeth on hospitality in that house. We had hyper teenage boys from the youth group spend the night. We hosted playdates with new moms, dinner clubs, recovering addicts that needed loved and counseled, discipleship sessions for new and hurting Christians during our kids naptime or after dinner, neighborhood dinners, evangelistic Bible studies, college and career Bible studies and lunches and birthday parties, and even provided them with a couch to crash from their crazy schedules, question-packed lunches with older godly women, and regular community group meetings where we hammered out applying the Bible to our lives.

One of our many beloved Community Groups

  

There we began learning to rejoice and sorrow with others and how to follow the Lord in joy and in sorrow ourselves. From the joy of setting up our first nursery and then big-girl room (ladybugs galore!) for Stella and bringing her and our other two Michigan-born-babies home to that house. There we learned the nuts and bolts of having 3 kids 4 and under and all the craziness that entails -including scrubbing poop off the walls, curtains, floor and crib when a certain child decided to decorate with his/her nap-time excrement.

The stories those walls could tell if they could talk!

Stella's nursery turned big-girl room

Tear drops might still stain the kitchen countertop from when I was mindlessly scrubbing it because I had to do something after finding out that I’d lost our baby after almost 20 weeks of pregnancy. And I can still see the dozens of cards from church members lining the top of our piano in the dining room, sharing in our grief, admonishing us with Scripture, and sharing their own stories of God’s faithfulness to them through unfulfilled expectations.

We loved that house. It had a warmth and coziness we haven’t been able to replicate here in our Florida home. The charm of the curved front sidewalk and the glow of the light from the living room wall sconces in the evening. If I close my eyes and listen hard enough I can still hear what the cries of a hungry baby sound like there at night, the pitter-patter of first steps on those hardwood floors, the frustrated turning of the old, loose door knob to go upstairs to our bedroom, and the echoes of excitement when Daddy came home for the day. God provided our love shack for us in an amazingly generous way, and he continued to provide for us the entire time we owned it. Not just for our material needs, but with all we needed for life and godliness. (2 Peter 1:3)

Ruby as a new walker

And as of yesterday, it is ours no more.

But, for the past nearly three years now, we’ve lived in a different proving ground, learning many new lessons and re-learning old ones. God isn’t done with us yet. We’ve discovered that our homes here are primarily training us for our heavenly home. Whether we have happy or hard home lives. Christian or antagonistic family members. Beautiful or fixer-upper surroundings. It’s all meant to help us on to him. It’s all meant to fit us for heaven. To make us more like him. To make us long for our eternal home, but also to encourage us with grace along the way.

And if God can help us find such love, hope, and happiness in a 900-square-foot house in cloudy and cold Michigan, I can only imagine how beautiful and peaceful and perfect our eternal home will be. Because it will be with him.

“Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.” (Revelation 21:3-5)

No Turning Back

Our lives met that summer. Paths crossed and eyes locked. Love tiptoed in and grabbed hold of our hearts and turned them right over. Although everything seemed just perfect when we'd met for lunch, counting the hours until we could talk or see each other again. Trying as hard and we could to be reasonable about this whole relationship thing. Yeah. Like that happened. Then you put a diamond on it in November. And the rest is a flurry of white satin, fresh calla lilies, and covenant-making, with fondant on top.

I threw what few things I had left at my mom's house into my suitcase that significant summer day and we loaded into my little Honda CX - now ours - and I followed you north without looking back. Instead, I looked...at you.

When you talked. When you ate. When you listened. When you didn't even know it. My eyes were fixed.

We had to start making a way in life - now ours - and sometimes it was as clumsy as a three-legged race...trying to work in tandum but tripping up and falling down and wondering if we'd ever move forward in this mission God had for you and me - now us.

When no one else saw us he did and in mercy he told us to take up our mess and walk.

"For that is what God is like. He is our God forever and ever, and He will guide us." (Psalm 48:14)

I met your people and they became my people. Your meat-loving appetite influenced me. And you even started to consider food from Panera to be a meal, not a snack. But what I began to notice wasn't that I was becoming more like you or you were becoming like me but that we were becoming us...a whole new unity...not completely you and not completely me, but absolutely right.

Almost without noticing, we were moving forward together without struggle, not even always side by side. And that was fine. We had a mutual trust and a deeper understanding that freed us to do what we needed. Still my eye would catch yours across the room and you'd throw me a heart-melting wink and our world would stop momentarily - eyes still fixed. But then my people, your people, our people...all His people. We were on mission.

Then it came time to leave those people and I found myself still looking at you. Not back. I chose you again over my comfort and familiar.

I hope you saw it in every box I packed, that I gladly gave it up for you. I hope you noticed it in every hard goodbye I said, that I loved you more. I know you did, because you know when a woman follows a man it doesn't mean she has forgotten the way or can't find it on her own. You know I'm on this path whether you're with me or not, and I know that's one of the reasons you love me. I'm not a tagalong. But following my Lord often shows itself most by my willingness to follow my man. And, I'm all in with you, Honey, no turning back.

 

To keep it real though, occasionally this path with you can feel about as spacious as a public transport in China. Is there really room for us both on here and are you sure you didn't miss your stop?! :)

But along with the narrowness, also comes a chance to widen my heart, to make room for more people to love and more love to grow for the same people, including you. Because God's love is an ocean and from my heart should flow waves of it reaching all He can through me.

Following also means I doubly feel the joy and pain of the path. We see the pain of our people and carry that pit in our stomachs along with them. We see the the Spirit drawing attention to Christ in someone's life and we have no greater joy! But too, I see my sin struggles and I see your sin struggles. I feel my need for the gospel but I also feel your need for the gospel. You struggle through a passage you're preaching on and to some degree I do too. We are united. When your heart gets cut mine bleeds. And when you smile my heart laughs.

Did anyone tell me marriage is borrowing another persons trouble and triumphs and gladly taking them as your own? Your sickness, your health, your poverty, your wealth. It's all mine too. Marriage is raw commitment. Following is counter-cultural.

But I've seen you forsake all you have to take me up with my sin struggles and untamed tongue and stunted fruit-bearing and wake up with my bed head and bad breath and it's beautiful. And I know you've carried my cross more than a time or two. Day after day it's a flesh and blood example to our kids of what Jesus did for them. It preaches to our neighbors that there is a better way - albeit not perfect - than the craziness of all the redefining the world's trying to do.

So, on your 35th birthday, I want to tell you I'll stay on this path with you and your people - our people. I'll cling to you and your happiness and heartaches like they're my own. I'll look your sin in the face and humble my proud heart, freeing you to need the gospel too, like you've done so many times for me. And I'll keep my eyes fixed on you, learning all I can from you, loving all there is to love about you. No turning back, no turning back.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Adoption Update

The week we moved, back in April, I contacted the Bethany office we'd be working with here in Florida to make sure they had received our file and to get information about moving forward with our adoption in our new home. At that point, it seemed the transfer would be relatively smooth. We were told we'd need to be completely moved in before they could do our updated home study for our new house.

I contacted the office in June to tell them we were moved in and to set up the home study appointment. I was told our caseworker would contact me soon to set that up but was out of the country on a missions trip at the time. We waited almost three weeks without hearing anything. I called the office again and found out they were in the middle of a baby boom with around 7 placements occurring within a few weeks time and that they just did not have the staff to serve everyone currently. The bottom line was that we would have to wait until things settled down in order for our file to move forward. We had to readjust our expectations and realize this office is not as fully staffed as the MI office was and trust again that the timing of our placement is in God's hands.

We then received a slew of paperwork we needed to complete to meet FL adoption requirements which was unexpected and a bit discouraging considering all the paperwork we had already completed through our application process. There's a reason it's called a paper pregnancy, right?! Although it took us until the end of July/beginning of August to complete all of that, we learned more about our new area, tracking down finger printing locations and Sheriff's offices, etc.

Finally, on Monday, we received the call we'd been anticipating and are thrilled to have our home study addendum set up for next Thursday at 3 PM! We are hoping to be a Florida waiting family by the end of Sept, Lord willing- almost a full year since we were originally a waiting family in MI! Nothing like making an already lengthy and challenging endeavor even longer and more challenging! :) All along though, we have been reminded that our expectation is in God alone, not our agency, nor in our ability to market ourselves successfully to birthparents. We want to be thorough and diligent in doing what we need to do, but it is comforting to know he has gone before us.

Thank you to those who have been faithfully praying and eagerly waiting with us. We will let you know when we are officially (and finally) on the waiting list here in FL!

Posted with Blogsy

Grace For Every Hurdle

It's been a few weeks since your ninth birthday. Did I really think if I didn't write my annual post to you I could bypass the reality that we most likely only have nine more years together? And I feel like your dad and I are still hunched over you in the back seat, trying to figure out how to get your blasted car seat out of our car, so we can carry you into the house for the first time!

You firstborn children have a hard way to go in some respects. Your firsts are our firsts, so sometimes we hobble along together taking first bites, steps, swims, and drives. We learn early that he catches us when we're falling, steadies us when we aren't as ready for that next step as we thought, calms us when we're the ones up crying in the middle of the night, and encourages us when we thought we should be done cleaning up messes by now, but instead the messes are bigger and worse than a pile of crumbs on the floor after dinner. And through it all, we feel the unrelenting clock and calendar keep pushing us forward to the next phase.

So, it has pushed us to the start of your fourth grade year. Around here, I feel like we're training for the Olympics as we get ready for the next grade of school. We've had our talks - and yes one of them was "the" talk. We've studied the Word. I've warned you of the hard path of the sinner, and I've reminded you that the year ahead is as bright as the promises of God. You know that fearing the Lord is living in the awareness of him - he's always with you, loving you, caring for you, and providing just what you need - and from that awareness flows true wisdom and knowledge.

But still my heart trembles when I think of letting you go again into another year without me. And this public school mama with a homeschool heart has to remind herself of victories past as we face the first day at a new school all over again.

The first morning of school last year, I got a message from a likeminded friend who walked a similar path, encouraging me that the Spirit would be faithful to give us grace for every hurdle. Oh how I needed those words! Just pulling into the parking lot on that first day was a hurdle, let alone walking those crowded halls full of strangers, and then letting you go under someone else's care for 7 1/2 hours a day. It took weeks before I wouldn't cry as I ran errands and drove by the exit for your school, knowing you guys were close but not with me.

The year definitely presented it's hurdles, but just as my friend reminded me, the Spirit gave grace for each one.

About a week into school, Daddy was walking out after dropping you off and introduced himself to the assistant headmaster, Al Carter. Your dad gave him his church business card, telling Al he was a pastor in the area and that he was praying for him. He had no idea that new-to-the-area headmaster was a Liberty grad and would visit our church the following Sunday with his Wheaton grad wife and their two kids. He had no idea that first quick exchange in the hall would result in their meeting weekly for early morning coffee and spiritual encouragement. But God did. Grace!

Thankful for our friendship with Al and Liz!

The year started off with a 'big bang' (literally) when your teacher presented a differing view of origins than you believe. You raised your hand and questioned and challenged. You had to learn to do it respectfully and to kindly interact with others who don't hold your beliefs. It was an early lesson in showing love and honor while disagreeing. Grace!

At Thanksgiving, you got to do a presentation poster featuring people, places, and things you were thankful for. You had the idea to include Jesus in the "person" category, our church as one of the "places," and the Bible in the "thing" column. You described why you were thankful for each one. "Because he's perfect, because they are loving friends, and because it teaches us." Grace!

Around Christmas, I volunteered to work in the Secret Santa shop and Al's wife happened to be working the same shift. In between helping the classes, we'd discuss the quick version of our spiritual journeys, relishing in providence right there in the public school gym. Grace!

That morning, I helped a little boy shop who wanted to pick out a gift for his dad. I pointed out a few options and asked if his dad might use either of those things. He looked up at me and said, "My dad died two weeks ago." And I remembered one of the reasons we were at the school. I have biblical obligations to you, one of which is to lead you in learning how to help your sick or sorrowing peers who might need Jesus. Grace!

I loved volunteering for field trips and reading groups and getting to know and have fun with your classmates. We have great memories of those "special voices" I'd let you guys read in and then "freeze!" Making new friends together was yet another evidence of grace!

I couldn't have been as involved as I was without the help of sweet friends from church providing childcare. I needed their support and help, and they were there for us. Grace!

And this dear woman, who I struggled leaving you with that first day of school, became a precious addition to our "most loved people" list. Mrs. Wall cried as you parted ways on your last day of school and is planning to visit us next summer. The perfect teacher for you - and me! Grace!

As I walked into your school that last day, I had a lump in my throat and fought back tears once again. But this time, they were tears of gratefulness to God. They were tears over faith that grew from seeing those halls as a fearful place to a grace filled place, where God didn't leave us or forsake us. I felt him near and dear there. I wouldn't trade this past year of school for anything, not even having you with me all day every day (although I can never get enough of our special time together). I wouldn't trade it though, because it's a better place to be desperately needing God to work and then finding him working in unexpected places and through unexpected means. Like the joy of finding streams in the desert. Only God can do things like that!

Maybe last year was an unusual year. But maybe it wasn't. So I will remember these triumphs of grace as we jump the hurdle of pulling in the parking lot tomorrow, your first day of school. I'll remember that you're there to get an education which isn't just about learning math and reading. Because I can tell you he's Lord of the nations, but wouldn't it be great if you could see that he's Lord of Orange Park first? Wouldn't it be instructive for you to grow up seeing God isn't like us and his image isn't monochromatic? As Aunt Charisse pointed out, wouldn't it be good for you to watch us appreciating and embracing home as a haven where we retreat after the hard work of being on mission is done? Wouldn't it be better for you to see my and your dad's example (clumsy as it is) of actually being in the world but not of it? And wouldn't it be faith-building for you to have the confidence of witnessing that as my and your dad's light shines in darkness, the darkness can never extinguish it?

There are so many more firsts for us to experience together, my Stella Grace. Another big one is tomorrow. There is even more for you to learn - for us to learn - in the school year ahead. Like we always have been, we're by your side, looking to him for grace as we jump through the hurdles...for at least nine more cherished years!

 

Posted with Blogsy

Rock of Ages When the Year is Long

So you have the audacity to go ahead and turn another year older, do you? In motherly determination, I push deep and try not to feel the angst. It's hard for me this year, I'm not going to lie. Maybe it's because my soul was dripping wet with thousands of tears and hung out to dry these past weeks. Maybe it's because a new church has rushed into our lives like the wind, blowing everywhere kindness and love and I'm left spinning in the reality of overwhelming grace. Maybe it's because I've been caught up in the chaos of the past twelve months and my earth has quaked and who says God never speaks in those? Because if he doesn't speak in the tumult what good is his speaking at all? Sometimes I need him in the still but most of the time I need him in the noise. And He's been there. I've heard him over it all...when I've listened.

Maybe it's because in the quaking, I've wondered where this year has crumbled and gone and what my investments have been and I've wished for a do-over. A year of quiet. A year filled with snuggles and meaningful memories. A year of steadiness and handling the distractions better. A year of schedule and predictability. Instead we've gotten a year of upheaval and unexpected change. Adoption paperwork and meetings and grant applications and fundraisers and an untimely funeral and interviews and a survey trip and a new school and a candidacy and speaking engagements and a move.

And what happened to that schedule posted on the board that can become my idol? It became my idol, that's what. And what happened to those lingering breakfasts around the table talking catechism and rehearsing for unlimited minutes how the gospel applies to anything and everything? Those minutes got cut short because it took more time to put on armor this year. What happened to the reading corner and the table time and the limit of a short half-hour recorded TV program per day? They turned into grabbing a book when we could, multitasking by playing a game over lunch, and more TV than is probably healthy for a three-year-old.

So here we are, supposed to be celebrating another year of your life and I'm the one throwing a toddler's tantrum inside. Not ready for more change. Not ready to let these past months go because they aren't what I wanted for you...for us.

But once again, God. He's here. And I have to remind myself that he changes everything because he changes me. You know what the funny thing is, Son? He changes everything by never changing a thing about himself. Look outside at that grass. It grows and will be taller tomorrow than it is today. And see those flowers pretty and bright? Look again the next day and their beauty will fade. Stare your mama in the face in a few months and you'll see laugh lines plunging deeper and wispy gray hairs refusing to keep on their mask. But in all of this change, he never changes. The mountains can quake and crumble into the sea and so can my heart, and our schedule, and our life as we know it. But not him. Who is a rock except our God? To him we can run and find safety.

And you need to do that. You've made a hotel room your bed for three weeks now and before that slept in a sleeping bag for awhile in a bare room that used to feel like home. And the God-man knows a little something about make-shift housing, with animals bleating and living like he wasn't staying here for long. And he wasn't. Because he moved and left his home in heaven - talk about a transition - to come get us, so you and I might have a home there with him. He was a perfect boy for you because he knew your biggest problem isn't your imperfect mom who lets you down, but your sinful heart that's already let him down. And his character never changed. He grew on to be a perfect teenager, never sneaking out at night or clamming up in rebellious apathy or looking girls up and down lustfully. He became a perfect man, always doing his Father's will even when that bitter cup was so hard to swallow, he drank it down obediently. And, Son, he became sin and his Father forsook him for a time so you could become righteous and have an unbroken relationship with that Father in heaven. And, oh, how these truths bring comfort! Mending disappointing relationships, restoring a home, forgiving sin, washing away regret in redemption. A God who lived through the fire and flood and so promises to walk with us through them too. What great hope we have for the year ahead!

But tumult can leave a bruise, and your mama's going to look at this black and blue often and remember. I'll remember our home isn't really on Connie anymore than it was on Keppen. The people we want to be like roamed around in tents and this world wasn't even worthy of them. So what am I really living for anyway? Order doesn't come from having pictures on the walls and your own bed to sleep in. Obedience gives order. First things first. And my success as a mom isn't in our schedule or books read or unlimited hours of instruction or limited hours of technology. My success as a mom is found in Christ's success for me. He is all I am not, and will never be, regardless of how peaceful and pretty my circumstances are.

As I hear you sleeping soundly and breathing heavily just a few feet away from me and your dad in this, our {always} temporary home, I admit to you I don't know what your fourth year holds. But I guess that doesn't matter so much after all, does it? He's got us and he says he always will. That's something we can count on. So let's put our roots down there deep in the Word. Because those promises? They're never going to change.

 

Posted with Blogsy

Another Week

Easter bunny craft since we didn't want to end up with a PAAS-dyed hotel room.

Hotel living has its perks!

Thankful for Netflix:)

Can't get over this gorgeous view we enjoy while running errands.

Sweet new friends reaching out to us and our kids...

Ruby asked when we were going to get her one?!

Water gun fights

And wagon rides

Progress on our house...

Last week we were tearing down walls and this week we're raising up floors.

Church friends using their painting talents. This is the early stage of the girls' flamingo room. (I know, I know! I've fallen hard for palm trees and, yes, flamingos!)

 

New series Matt started at OPBC today

Thanks for praying for us!

 

Posted with Blogsy

Home Sweet Hotel

We've been in Jacksonville almost a week now. We have received an overwhelmingly warm welcome from our OPBC family. They've been keeping us well-fed as we set up house in the local Holiday Inn for awhile until our home is move-in ready.

Here are a few pics of our new area.

Our church building

Holy Week activities hotel style. Thank you, Bailey family, for the supplies making this possible!

Our new house after 2 walls were removed. (Insert corny joke about the first of many walls we hope to break down in JAX.)

Our things arrived safely from MI on Monday. The movers and construction workers warned us about all the ant hills on our sidewalk, driveway, and in our yard. Apparently ants bite in FL?!

Stella's Florida-ready flip-flop clad feet

Alone time in the hotel room is hard to come by. Stella hides behind the curtains and creates her own window seat. Here she is reading Little Women. She's loving it, Oginsky family! :)

Oh, Ruby!

Schaeffer with his bunny, affectionately named "Nothing." Thank you, Brown family!

 

Posted with Blogsy