Happy 3rd Birthday Aaron!

Three years ago today, my life changed, though at the time I didn't know it. On the other side of town a piece of my heart was being delivered and I was probably casually sipping my coffee, or changing a diaper or maybe even asleep.

There's this crazy phenomenon about being an adoptive Mom.

You see, in the weeks leading up to our biological children's births, I can recount for you the happenings in our home, the trips our family took and probably even the tell you which outfits could still fit around my bulging waistline. I could tell you which positions were the most comfortable for me to sleep in and tell you every detail of the day of our biological children's birth, down to what I ate for breakfast those mornings.

But being an adoptive Mom is different. Things that come flooding back to my memory so easily in the days before our biological children were born don't come as easy for our adopted babes.

But never, EVER will I forget anxiously waiting a whole weekend knowing that Aaron was just miles away at the hospital but legally I couldn't go visit. NEVER will I forget seeing our own social worker, herself ripe with child, walk up our sidewalk next to the social services investigator who was carrying our baby in a huge infant carrier.

I'll never forget holding him that night, feeding him and wondering if his birth mother was thinking about him at that very moment. In fact, every birthday, my thoughts turn to her. I wonder if she remembers. I thank God for her and that she chose to give him life.

Our Aaron boy is a blessing in so many ways. And today, marks 3 years of me sitting in awe of the blessings God has poured out on us through obedience to His call on our family to foster and adopt.

At three years old, Aaron is constantly changing. His vocabulary has taken off and he talks all.the.time. His cute little voice just melts my heart. He's quick to say, "Pweez" and "Tanks Mom!"

His newest thing to say when he comes to me is, "I wuv you too, Mom." He's quickly outgrowing the irrationalness of a 2 year old and growing into a real, live 3 year old boy. He frequently can skip his nap and still be okay at the end of the day. He drinks from a big boy cup and has ditched the booster seat.

He's still strong willed and determined and I'm praying I don't break him of either of those traits. Instead, I pray that I will be able to direct him in the areas that require self-control and allow his steady, persistent, strong will to advance the Kingdom for the glory of God.

He LOVES cereal, all things related to trains, big trucks, his cowboys boots, Daddy, his littlest sister, Toy Story and, Nick (heavy emphasis on the CK).

(Aaron, Nick & Lucas)

He's got the brightest blue eyes I've ever seen and the best belly laugh of anyone I know. Aaron's genuine belly laugh can break through the toughest of bad moods and can crack even the most pouty of faces.

(Seriously. Those eyes! This picture is UNeditied. Can you even stand it?)

Basically, Aaron and I have found our meshing point. During his extensive stent in the I'm-so-freaking-irrational-that-your-breathing-makes-me-cry period, it was hard for me to remember tender moments during the day with my youngest son. But over the last several months, he's grown and I think I have too. I've stopped worrying so much about being right and standing my ground and I've tried to focus on the fact that my stubborn, determined boy is growing up right before my eyes and I was missing it. Blinded by frustration, I was missing the joy that this boy brings to me and our family.

His story, his life, is God's grace heaped into our laps. As I look back over the last 3 years, I realize that God has been excessively merciful with us. He's given us a child that has a story that can only reflect His glory. He's blessed us with a son who is becoming more bonded to his big brother by the day. He's given us life where there once was no hope.

He's given us a treasure that on our own we could have never gained. We pray Aaron's life will glorify the Lord on every level. What an incredible privilege we have in parenting this sweet boy. We cannot imagine for one second what our lives would be like without him!

Happy 3rd Birthday Aaron boy! We love you so, so, so much!

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To read previous posts about Aaron, specifically his birthday posts, click here and here.

**Most images courtesy of Matt Bryant Photography and PK Photography**

Das Not Funny!Friday: Snakes on my birthday

Welcome to this week's edition of Das Not Funny! Friday, just as I promised.

Unsure about what Das Not Funny! Friday is?

Just over two years ago we had five small children. The twins were three, Elizabeth was months shy of her 5th birthday. Aaron was nearly a year old and Olivia was still in an infant carrier.

Life was busy.

Life was funny.

Oh how I treasure the funny quips and behaviors of my children! How I wish I could bottle them up, store them away on a shelf and in 20 years pull them out and experience them again! But that's not possible. So it was because of that desire that Das Not Funny! Friday was born.

You see, back then (and even now) my sweet Ashlee enjoyed being the life and laugh of the party. However, every now and then she'd say one of those funny kid things and we'd all giggle.

Immediately she'd frown (as in the picture above) and say to us sternly, "Das not funny!"

Oh my sweet drama queen, yes it is.

Das Not Funny! Friday is the best way for me to keep bottled up all the hilariousness of my (many) young children. During the week I try to write down the things they say and post them on Friday. It's simple. You can do the same, even if you don't have kids! Blog about your husband, your nieces and nephews, that funny kid across the street. Heck, even your dog!

The only thing I ask is that if you participate you put a link in your post linking back here, to my blog. In return, you can enter your info into the Linking Widget and everyone can visit your post as well. If you really want to be fancy, you can get the code for the button over in the sidebar, but that's not required.

So without further rambling, here are my funnies for this week:

Aaron has finally resolved his issues with his poop and the potty. He's decided it's a good thing to not walk around with his own poo firmly smashed against his hiney. (I was beginning to wonder if he'd ever make such a choice so - PRAISE GOD!) Anyway, when he's on the potty he spends all his time with his head between his knees seeing what's going on.

He's thrilled when he sees the works of his...uh...self.

"Snakes! Mommy! I made a snake!" he yells from the bathroom.

Every.single.time. "Mommy! Nudder snakes! I made nudder snakes!"

"Yay buddy! Make more snakes, okay?"

"Otay Mommy! I make nudder snake!"

It's the picture of bathroom preciousness, really. (And Cathy H, did you really think I'd start this thing backup and NOT talk about poop the first thing?)

Anyway, Luke had Aaron in the bathroom a few weeks ago and upon commencement of poo Aaron, naturally, began all his "SNAKES!" talk. Half hearted, I'm sure, Luke shared in his enthusiasm of all things brown and reptilian. Finally, he said Aaron strained hard, looked down sees a blob and says,

"Dad! SEA TURTLE!"

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Monday was the twins' birthday. When Elizabeth excitedly got out of bed she began asking Lucas and Ashlee (immediately) "Are you SO EXCITED you're 5? I know you are. 5 is a big age. I remember when I was 5 years old...." (Insert long story that's only 1/16 true but has everything to do with Elizabeth being 5.)

Ashlee is getting super perturbed at her sister. Not because Elizabeth won't stop talking and breathe, but more because she is insistent that it's NOT her birthday yet.

An argument breaks out. Elizabeth demands that Ashlee is 5 while Ashlee forcefully resists the notion that it would be a day different from any other. The argument goes on for at least 10 minutes as I hear words being exchanged while I make breakfast downstairs.

Finally.....STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! STOMP! Ashlee angrily descends the stairs and rounds the corner into the kitchen.

"Mom! Witabetz keeps saying it's my burfday and IT'S NOT MY BURFDAY YET!"

I chuckled, "Actually, Ash, it is your birthday today. Happy Birthday Sweetie!"

Her eyes get wide, her mouth smiles broad, she spins on her heel and heads out of the room yelling,

"HEY GUYS! GUESS WHAT?! TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!!!!"

It really sent her for a loop when I explained to her that even though they have the same birthday, technically, Lucas is older.

Happy Friday y'all!

We'll be forehead deep in wedding festivities this weekend. If you think about it, will you pray for our sweet babysitter/nanny/my friend Amanda and her almost-husband Nick?

Thanks!

Prove it

True story.

If 135 people pledged $50 per month toward our ministry, we'd be FULLY FUNDED. But I understand that $50 a month is a lot of money.

But you know what? Forget us.

Our sweet friends Sam and Hanna need just 80 people to pledge them $20 a month to be FULLY FUNDED.

Seriously. TWENTY DOLLARS A MONTH.

That's the price of the pizzas I ordered last night (actually, those cost more than $20). That's the price of a trip to the movies (sans kids). That's the price of one Mocha Frapp per week. That's the price of a trip through the drive through for burgers and fries.

Moreover, that's the price of obedience.

Will you obey?

Click here to pledge Sam and Hanna and further the kingdom. They're weeks away (June 17th) from their deadline of having 100% pledged support. Should their pledges not come in, they'll have to postpone their departure.

They're both going to be teachers at Rift Valley Academy. They themselves were students there.

Do you believe in changing the world in the name of Jesus Christ? Do you believe change can happen through children and teenagers?

I do.

If you believe that teachers teaching the Glory of God can change lives, prove it.

How do you feel about ads?

Hey friends!

Alrighty, I need your advices and opinions.

Probably close to a year ago I applied to be wait listed on a the ad publishing site BlogHer. Honestly, I never thought they'd ever ask me to apply since my blog has small readership (comparatively) and also because I assumed that there is a huge waiting list and the chances of me floating to the top was slim-to-none.

But, about a week ago I received an email from BlogHer basically asking me to "apply to apply."

Short story, my blog has been selected to be in their database to have ads placed. I would earn revenue based on the number of page loads.

I have mixed feelings about having ads. On one had, whatever revenue we earn could be used for supplemental income - and later - to help supplement support for our ministry. (Though, truthfully, I can't see this being a big money maker. Maybe $25 a month?)

On the other hand, I know that my blog would begin being published and advertised with BlogHer and, well, I'm not sure how I feel about that. I mean, naturally all bloggers want to have a nice following of readers, but truth be told, I LOVE the small community of regular readers who come here. I'm not sure I want the masses coming this way and messing with the good thing we already have. Ya know?

But, in the end, Luke and I are praying about this decision - be it ever how trivial - and knowing that the Lord cares about details, even this one.

So my question for you all is this....

Would you be turned off by blog ads? Would it make you less likely to come back and read? Do you think it would annihilate the virtual intimacy that is already here?

I love that this measly little blog has connected me to so many of you who I would have otherwise never met. In fact, on our trip to Arkansas/Tennessee I had the privilege to meet two "blog friends" have our children play together and later the three of us women enjoyed a nice, relaxing dinner. Now, I'm honored to call them real-life friends.

A few of you have taken the step of faith to support our ministry both in prayer and with your finances. You truly have no idea just how much it humbles me to know you'd follow God in obedience to support someone you've never even "met."

So again, I ask you, is having an ad publishing network on here going to ruin that? Truly that's the last thing I desire.

I appreciate your insight and the way you guys care about me, my family and this silly 'ol blog.

Prayer Cards

With each step of this process of getting to Kenya it's becoming more and more real....we are really moving to Africa.

We are going to be international missionaries.

We have an amazingly talented friend who can just about whip up anything on the computer. I'm sure our new prayer cards only took him about 10 minutes, but man, they are impressive!

Here's the frontside:

And here's the back....

I didn't upload these to Flickr so that if you desire, you can enlarge them and print them. Or, if you'd like a "real" one, you can email me your address and I'll stick one in the mail to you. (Don't be alarmed when a pledge card shows up with the prayer card. For some reason, the two refuse to be mailed alone. Funny how that works. ;)

They make great decorations on your fridge, bathroom mirror, dashboard of your car, forehead, ceiling above your bed, in your Bible, on the microwave door, on the coffee pot, on the wall beside the toilet.....you know, anywhere that you will see it often and pray for us. We cherish your prayers as this process is becoming more challenging with each step.

We are at just under 10% of our monthly support goal which is A-MA-ZING! I can hardly believe the ways God is using His people to support His ministry. Thanks for caring about us and the ministry God is preparing us for in Kenya. I can't wait to see how He's going to unfold all of this!

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On a sidenote: Our treasured friends, Chris and Lindy over at Only Servants Ministries are expecting their little miracle, Ezra, any day now. Lindy's been having contractions about every 10 minutes for about 24 hours now. She'll be delivering the baby in Kenya with a great doctor at a great hospital. Please pray for Lindy, Chris and baby Ezra as they journey through the process of labor and delivery. Thanks friends!

Happy 5th Birthday Lucas & Ashlee!

These two people are five today.

FIVE.

How in the world did that happen?

As I was cleaning out our school cabinet on Friday, I found an old prayer journal from 2005. Elizabeth was an only child and reading the words I wrote from 6 years ago I was reminded of how I felt when I found out Lucas and Ashlee were coming - as a double dose.

After seeing 2 shadowy babes with heartbeats on the ultrasound screen and subsequently sobbing in the doctors office and soaking Luke's shirt, I retreated to the car. With hands trembling, I call my BFF Amanda.

"Hello?" she answers.

Words can't be understood through the sobs and sobs and I try to tell her of the news I've just learned.

"Jess? What's wrong? Is the baby okay?" she asks urgently, herself having faced the difficulty of a miscarriage.

"No. Everything's fine," as I take deep breaths trying to gain some composure.

From somewhere deep inside me I muster a breath and say, with wails overtaking my voice once more, "Amanda.....IT'S TWINS." Anyone else walking to their car must have heard my cries.

"Twins?! Are they both okay?" she asks.

"THEY'RE FINE!! AMANDA, HOW CAN I EVER BE A MOM TO THAT MANY KIDS?!?" I wail again, then sobs overtake me and my words are drowned out.

Looking back I see now that the Lord was mocking me. Oh how the Lord has a sense of humor.

When we found out that Lucas and Ashlee were a Lucas AND an Ashlee I thought my world was over. Stupid, I know. I prayed to God often to prepare me to be a Mother to multiple young children.

The day they were born was incredible. My doctor was fabulous and so patient. Ashlee has been dramatic from the very beginning.

And with their birth came new meaning to having my "hands full."

From the start, God showed me my urgent need to depend fully on Him to parent our small army of children. I still fail pretty much every day. But each morning He reminds me that just as His mercies are fresh, as should be mine.

Five years after the birth of those precious babies, they are now big kids. We are beginning a year round schooling calendar in 2 weeks and they will officially be Kindergartners. How on Earth can that be so?

Ashlee is the most loving child I've ever met. I'm not just saying that because she's mine either. Okay, maybe I am partial but she really is. But she is quick to offer comfort to others, especially her younger siblings. She's eager to have her second choice if she knows it will make someone else happy. She's caring and affectionate and loves her baby sister Ella so much that I'm sure she's her #1 fan.

Ashlee is still the eldest drama queen in our family. As quickly as she wails with hurt over a bumped knee or bruised ego, she's equally quick to recover (especially if there's food - or candy - involved). She loves to cook and be my helper in the kitchen. She's the best snuggler of everyone in the family, knowing just how to fit into the right places so it's comfortable for us both. She gives awesome kisses, is obsessed with coloring and can still beat anyone in the family in a foot race. Ashlee lives life wide open. She's loud, very silly, happy and brings excitement to our family. Kindergarten is going to suit her well because she loves learning. And, did I mention she's a little silly?

I cannot even begin to think how incomplete our family would be had the Lord not gifted us with her. Her twin brother would be lost, I think.

Lucas is the total opposite of his sister in almost every way. He loves anything that is typical boy - guns, trucks and army men. He discovered Luke's stash of vintage GI JOE men and spends 100% of his time carrying one around or requesting to trade it for a different one from the box.

His newest love is all things super hero, specifically Spiderman. He loves watching "SuperHero Squat" He is thrilled to play anything outside, loves all things Toy Story and spends quite a bit of time in the bandaid box. He's still a Momma's boy and I am soaking up the free hugs and kisses while I can, knowing that in a few short years he'll be too cool to give his Mom a kiss on the lips. It's not uncommon for him to come to me, pat me on the leg and show me his lips. After a quick smooch he will often say, "I just love you Mom."

It melts my heart each time. How could it not? He adores time with his Dad, especially when they're "fixin' stuff." He's quick tempered but quickly asks forgiveness. He wishes he could swim without floaties and ride a bike without training wheels. He's usually the 1st to go to sleep and the 1st one up in the morning. He adores his littlest sister Ella and tries to protect her from so much - even though she rarely desires to be protected. He has so many questions about who Jesus is, what He did and about salvation.

He and I certainly have a mother/son bond that is unique as we are both strong willed, headstrong people. I cannot imagine how we would have ever felt complete without Lucas in our family.

My sweet babies are growing up. I've never been one to be teary or emotional on birthdays, but I can see myself become more and more of an emotional wreck each year as the baby faces of my children change into the faces of kids, then to teens, then to adults.

Somedays I wish I could just stop the clock and savor these fleeting moments. But then I remember that with each passing year it only gets sweeter. Each year I see more of the personalities of these people the Lord has entrusted me with and I am blessed more and more by their unique quirks, characters and what makes them tick.

Happy Birthday to my double dose of blessings! I love you both so much it makes me hurt!

Happy Birthday Lucas!

Happy Birthday Ashlee!

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To read previous posts about Lucas & Ashlee and their birthdays click here and here. (I'm not sure who those chubby faced kids are in that 2nd link. I vaguely remember them. Makes me sad.)

Das Not Funny!Friday: Returns!

Remember that time I used to blog about all the funny things my kids would do and say? No?

Well, there was a time when I used to blog about all the funny stuff my kids would do and say. And per the request of a few different people, I'm bringing Das Not Funny! Friday back.

I hope.

If I can remember to write them down this week. So here's your heads up if you'd like to join me.

Below I am reposting a Das Not Funny! Friday from September 18, 2009. I'm looking forward to reading the funny stuff your kids/husbands/nieces & nephews/the-kids-you-babysit say on Friday so write them down and I'll see you on Friday!

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Friday again! Who's up for another round of Das Not Funny! Friday? I am!

What is Das Not Funny! Friday, you ask? Welllllll, I've always said that I want to write down the funny things that my kids are forever saying. However, I stink at journaling. Therefore, I began posting them here on Fridays. They're called Das Not Funny! because when our daughter Ashlee does something funny and we laugh at her, she usually frowns (like pictured above) and says, "Das not funny Mommy!"

She's a TAD dramatic and doesn't realize that this comment only makes her antics even funnier. I hope you'll join me and play along for this week's Das Not Funny! Friday.

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Monday did not go as scheduled this week. The physical therapist was here for Baby Girl so I sent the twins to the basement to play (Elizabeth was over at Nana's house that morning). After checking on them several times, I realized that they were quiet. Too quiet. The following is the conversation that transpired next...

"Ashlee! Lucas! What are you guys doing?"

Giggling from the basement echos up the stairs.

"GUYS! What is going on down there?"

"We's just playin' Momma," Ashlee calls.

"Um. Playing what exactly?"

"We's eatin' dees fangs."

"You're eating what?!?"

"Dose fangs in Woocas mouth."

"What things? Bring them here now!"

They both creep up the stairs.

"Lucas, what are you eating?"

"Gurwillda food," he states, logically.

"Show me please, NOW."

He opens his hand to reveal several brass shelf hangers from a shelving unit.

"Did you have those in your mouth Lucas?"

"Yep."

"Did you eat any?"

"Yep."

We spent the next 4.5 hours at various doctors offices getting x-rays and verifying that a brass shelf hanger apparently denigrates upon ingestion. Either that, or he really didn't swallow it at all.

I'll let you decide which is true.

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Last night Lucas was helping me make dinner. We open our pantry and both discover a horrible smell (thanks to some rotten potatoes). Lucas turns to me and says,

"Shoooo weeee Mommy. You poot stinks."

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Ashlee to me, from the bathroom: "Mooooooom. I'm done. Come wipe me."

I enter the bathroom and begin her requested task.

She adds, "Wipe me good Mom. But cwose your eyes. Don't wook at my poop.."

Somehow, those two things cannot be accomplished at the same time little girl.

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If you'd like to play along write your own Das Not Funny! Friday post then enter all your info into MckLinky.

Y'all have a great weekend, free from poop or brass shelf hangers or either of those two combined.

BE the church

Just wanted to hop in very quickly and ask you all BIG question...

How much are you willing to sacrifice to advance the kingdom of God?

Is it worth one meal out per month? How about two? Is it worth forgoing one shopping spree per month? How about your daily stop at Fivebucks?

Our sweet, new friends Sam and Hanna are set to leave for the field on JULY 17th!! However, Africa Inland Mission's policy is that all missionaries must be fully funded/pledged ONE MONTH before they depart. That means, by June 17th (about 3 weeks away) Sam and Hanna must be FULLY PLEDGED.

Yikes! My understanding is that they are at about 50% of their target support.

So, again I ask you...what are you willing to sacrifice to advance the kingdom of God?

One meal out per month? Two? Your non-fat double shot latte?

Can you sacrifice $50 a month? How about $100? Depending on the size of your family (or how extravagant your favorite take out place is) that's 1 or 2 meals out per month.

There's no need to stop and pray about the decision to support missions. It's Biblical. Take the step of faith and support this sweet couple. I promise you won't be sorry.

Click here to see how you can support Sam and Hanna.

And click here to read more about who these sweet people are and what they've been called to.

Don't just GO to church folks, BE the church.

The color of their love

She walks down the sidewalk toward me slowly. Her flowing skirt dancing around her calves, her bare feet shuffling on the concrete. She looks older. Much older than I ever remember. I thought she was old when I was 10.

That was 21 years ago.

Now it’s not my limited perception making her seem aged, but time. Years of working on a factory assembly line, then coming home to cooking, cleaning, gardening and canning the works of their harvest.

In my memory, she still wears a calf-length skirts and walks everywhere barefoot, while humming hymns. As I see her shuffling toward me, a thousand memories flood my mind. I can nearly hear her cackling laughter in my ears as a broad smile spreads across her face.

“Hey Jess!” the same voice of the grandmother of my youth echos out, sounding only slightly more weathered. I’m holding her namesake, who squeals in response to my Granny’s attention.


I used to sneak her extra pair of false teeth out of the bathroom and wear them, as best I could, over my own teeth. One time I used her denture glue to help hold them in. It took me forever to get that off my teeth. She laughed and laughed at me.

I wrap my arm around her, realizing she’s a little shorter than she used to be, but she smells just the same. “Look at how those kids have grown! And, there’s Ella.”

I’d played this moment out in my mind at least a dozen times, but living it was much better than I could have ever imagined. I shift my hip over so my Granny can finally meet the great-granddaughter who bears her name.

"Ella, meet Ella," I say. They both grin.


She laughs a hearty laugh, one that’s familiar and I can’t help but smile along with. “She’s beautiful, Jess, just like her Granny.” She cackles again, as she turns to walk to the house.


“Y’all come on in and get you somethin’ cold to drink,” she more commands than offers. Their house exists outside of time, I do believe. It’s hardly changed since I was a kid, only now it seems much smaller.

I walk into the kitchen and can almost see her standing there at the stove, with her back to me, her elbow moving wildly as she stirs a big pot of soup. Her voice breaks my thoughts, “Jess, there’s bologna in the refrigerator and some sodies too if you want one. Make those kids the rest of them hot dogs.” Pots rattle in the cabinet as she searches for her favored choice to boil some hot dogs.

“I’ll just grill them here, Gran.” She looks at me and clangs the pot on the stovetop, “Alright, but you’d better clean it up when you’re done.”

I smile. Not much has changed. I’m still a little girl in her mind and she’s still my headstrong, bossy, love-filled Granny.

We eat lunch and then head outside. She uses a cane now and tears sting my eyes as I notice how much more slowly she walks. It’s been nearly 18 months since we were here the last time. Too long considering how much she’s changed.

“Don’t you feed those kids? They’re so skinny.”

“Yes, Granny, they eat. A lot. Trust me.”

She laughs again.

We talk about nothing and everything. She asks about Africa. She says the obvious, “Four years? Well, you know we probably won’t be around by the time you get back.”

Tears wet my lashes again.

“I’d thought that too Gran,” I almost whisper. I’m pretty sure I got my matter-of-factness from her. Actually, I know I did. She loves boldly and speaks her mind the same.

In my mind I can almost hear her voice singing hymns as my eyes follow the rows of levies through the rice fields that surround their house. I blink hard to make the tears disappear.

“Come on and let me show you my flowers.”


For the next half an hour we walk hand-in-hand as she quizzes me on the names of the plants and I fail her test miserably. She laughs as I make up random names for the varieties of foliage, none of which are correct. She, on the other hand, knows almost every plant and who gave it to her and on which occasion. Her mind is still sharp even though her body is weakening.


I used to catch critters in glass canning jars. Usually lightening bugs, sometimes bees. My cousins and I would play for hours in the creek beside their house throwing rocks, catching inedible fish and hunting for crawdads. I took our kids down to that same creek and was surprised by how small it really is.

My Paw arrives back from a monthly lunch gathering with his brothers. My Granny and paw have been married for over 60 years and I don’t recall ever seeing them argue, though I’m sure they did. Again, my mind turns to memories and I see my Paw hunched over a small desk, with a desk lamp, reading a well worn Bible.

My hands would be purple or hot pink or maybe blue depending on the type of dust put on the seeds that we grandkids planted in their garden. They’d hand us a bag and show us a row and we’d get busy planting seeds. You could wash and wash and wash your hands but that color would take days to come off your skin.

“We planted us a garden again this year,” she says, breaking my thoughts once more. “Used to we could plant the whole garden, all over the back yard, in just one day. This year it took us all day just to plant 4 plants.” I look at the meager garden that they have sowed this year. It’s puny in comparison to the gardens of my childhood. I remember being yelled at for playing in the rows and rows of corn. I’d get called in from the back yard for stepping on the rows and rows of okra. It spanned their entire backyard, which is good sized enough to store up food for the winter. Now, their garden is the size of a few baby cribs.

My life is not what it once was because of the faithfulness of their lives. I am stained with their love. My greatest prayer is that our children, and even our children’s children, understand the labor of my grandparents and know The Love that they testified to my entire life.


Long after their garden is never again planted in soil, they will continue to reap a generational harvest. The legacy they have planted in the hearts of their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren has stained our family’s hands for eternity. I could never wash off the color that these two people have embedded in my life. Nor would I ever want to. Long before I knew the King, they knew Him. They remained steadfast through deaths and burials of their children and grandchildren. They continued to slow, plant and tend. They continued to persevere. They sowed great seeds in me, without my even knowing.

Years from now as I remember my Granny’s abundant cackling laughter and my Paw’s tender, deep voice, I pray that I will also remember the love my Savior poured into me through them. I pray that my life remains stained with the color of their love.

Here

I'm still here. Sorta.

I mean, I'm not in the "here" that we're normally at. We are traveling and will be back to our normal "here" sometime next weekend. We've enjoyed spending time with long-time friends. Friends who encourage the mess out of us, provoke us to think about God's word authentically, challenge us with our normalcies and love us beyond what we deserve.

We've been encouraged, supported and squeezed extra tight by family.

We've had the privilege to speak with two groups about our ministry in Kenya and both times walked away more blessed than we could have previously imagined.

We've been spoiled rotten by having our sweet friend Paige travel with us to help us. Originally, her role was to help us with the kids, but I can see that she's really here for so much more. She's encouraged us as well, jumped into the thick of loading and unloading and just blessed us on every level possible.

I guess you could say that we're blessed to be here, rather than "here."

I hope to post again soon with pictures, updates and more info about Guinea-Bissau, our assignment in Kenya and just life in general.

Sneak Peek Photos

I should be packing. Or sleeping. Instead, I'm pulling up breathtaking photos on my computer and staring at them intently.

You see, in exactly 1 month, our sweet, amazing, wonderful babysitter Amanda is getting married. And over the last several months, our relationship has blossomed and now, well, she's not just a babysitter anymore. Now, she's my friend.

And I couldn't be more excited for her. She's marrying an amazing man who loves her fiercely, loves our kids (which speaks volumes to me) and, best yet, loves the Lord.

Today I had the pleasure of, once again, playing photographer and taking some Bridal Portraits for Amanda.

You guys, she is stunning. It's a good thing I'm going to be plenty distracted by my chaotic kids at her wedding or I'd bawl my eyes out. Oh who am I kidding? I probably will anyway.

I so wish that I could show you my FAVORITES but they show too much of her dress! After the wedding I'll post my favorites. Until then, you're stuck with these teasers.

What an honor to have dugout level seats to the beginning of a marriage! This girl blesses me, often. I wonder how they feel about life in Kenya? ;)

Bold. Sacrificial. Hungry.

Oh blogging. I have so much to say, yet so few words and even fewer minutes. Life seems to be speeding up by the second and each day that passes I think, "Man! I just want to write. I just want to blog about my trip and the ways God showed up BIG."

And then it's bedtime and I fall into bed. A seemingly 20 minutes later my alarm goes off, or a half dressed kid crawls in bed beside me and the day begins again. And I think, "I'll blog tomorrow."

Somehow, tomorrow never seems to come.

I swing in the balance between looking to tomorrow and reliving 10 days I spent half way around the world. My mind goes from here to there and back again, wondering if Kenya will resemble Guinea-Bissau at all.

I remember the warfare but also the victory. Like a rhythmic, ever steady pendulum, I flow from hopeful to sad, from fearful to courageous. I remember the smells, the bustle of the market and the drops of sweat rolling, unceasingly, down my back.

It was our first full day in Guinea-Bissau. The missionaries we were staying with, took us to the Bible college that our church had sent money to build. In a few more weeks it will be finished and men will begin being trained to be Pastors.

I'd seen photos of the Bible college, but standing there within it's walls was monumental. I was so struck by this group of people who were gathered on the long, stone and concrete porch of the Bible college.

Being ever the question asker, I asked the resident missionary, "What are they doing?"

"See that man in the middle," it was more of a statement than a question.

"He's our day guard. His shift is 7am-7pm. He's a new believer but he won't quit going to the witchdoctor."


"That one (in the hat) who's talking. He's teaching them, telling him to turn from the ways of the witchdoctor and trust solely in Jesus."


"He doesn't come to church, so every Saturday, while he's working his day guard shift, they come to him and teach him the truth. They pray that one day, he'll leave the ways of the witchdoctor and fully understand the power of Jesus," the missionary continues.

I hesitantly walk over the the group to snap some photos and listen to the teacher lecture in Kreole. I can only make out a few words, "Biblio" and "Jesus." Another in the group sits, with his Bible open, listening to the man who continues to teach.

This is church.

This is the body of Christ.

Men and women decidedly, purposefully, intentionally discipling a believer who is new and weak in his faith. He won't come to them, so they go to him.

"They come every Saturday," the missionary continues, "even that woman and her daughter. She's a widow but she still comes."

I had noticed the young girl, sitting intently with the adults. In fact, she had taken me back so much that I had to walk away from the group to compose myself, to distance my heaving sobs from the team's earshot.

It's day one, I can't be loosing it yet. Seriously. Get a grip, Jessica.

I look back at the girl, knowing that she's fatherless and yet she and her mother continue to disciple. They choose to disciple a man who others would deem as a waste of time. Women work hard in African culture. Widowed women doubly so.

The little girl reminds me so much of my Elizabeth. My big girl who decides, 9 times out of 10, to sit with us in small group with our teenaged Sunday School class instead of playing outside with the babysitter and her siblings.

I imagine Elizabeth and this sweet girl sitting together. Elizabeth giving her a few of her treasured silly bands and this girl, sharing with her a few Kreole words.

I can almost hear their giggles in my ears.

My heart swells as I realize that indeed these two are sisters.

Same Father.

The tears flow again, this time for joy.

I hope that one day she and Elizabeth will be able to giggle and trade treasures in Heaven. Can you imagine? Two girls, about the same age, treasuring the Word of God so much they choose to sit and soak it in with the adults? A whole world apart yet desiring the same things?

Bold. Sacrificial. Hungry.

A group of hodgepodge believers, choosing to spend their Saturdays teaching and discipling a man who most might write off. A widow and her daughter, another missionary and a group of Guinea-Bissauan men desperate to proclaim the glory of the Lord.

May we all be so bold. May we all be so sacrificial. May we all be so hungry.

I'm ready to go home

**I want to preface this by saying that I thought I'd get more into the stories of our trip in this post. As I began writing, something different emerged. I pray you will take what I write and digest it. I know speaking of the spiritual realm is often controversial. I fully intend to share with you some profound stories of how God moved mightily, reiterating the Spirit working as I share below. For more about our trip to Guinea-Bissau, check out my friend Wendi's blog.**

I thought when the time came to sit and begin writing about my trip to Guinea-Bissau that the words would come free and smooth. But the truth is, as I sit here to write I'm spending more time watching the cursor blink than I am moving my fingers. In fact, I've opened this post at least 4 times before adding anything of substance to it's context.

How does one try to express deep truth in mere words?

How do I convey to you all that I experienced when we live in a world that is so drastically different?

How can I describe the supernatural as I experienced it and the ways that God revealed to me things beyond what I ever knew to exist?

Honestly, I can't. But I'm sure gonna try.

You see the thing about Africa, for me, is this:

I've known for a long time that it would feel like home.

I've felt so called there, so drawn to her people, so eager to see the sights, smell the smells and feel the heat on my skin. But, even though I'd never before graced African soil part of me knew what it would be like. I didn't have much culture shock on our trip. Yes, things were certainly different from how they are here but none of it really shocked me because I was familiar with what to expect.

And what I'm about to tell you is either gonna cause you think I'm completely insane or confirm what you already know about God and His Spirit.

I fully believe the Lord revealed much of Africa to me in dreams, desires and thoughts before I ever even left. I think He has been for years. I think He has so deeply rooted the things of Africa in my soul that being there only served to confirm what I already knew to be true.

Several times I would be in a situation - standing in the market, sitting with my feet in the dirt, holding the hand of a child - and I just knew it was suppose to be familiar. Different that deja vu, and not quite the familiarity of something I'd seen in pictures. Something more. Something certain, like the Lord was saying, "See, I told you about this. You've been here before."

Y'all, God had given me those emotions, those feelings, down to the feeling of the dirt on my skin, before I ever even left.

As a Western culture, we are quick to claim that God is the God of the Bible (especially when we want to see His power work favorably for us). But we dismiss the supernatural, the Spirit realm so quickly. Or, if we take stock in any of it, we water it down so much that it makes it more digestible for our weak spiritual stomachs.

The Father sent His Spirit to counsel, direct, lead us and declare truth. (John 16:13-15) I fully believe that when God is preparing us to join Him in a great work, He desires to prepare our hearts and souls through His Spirit.

Have I lost you? Do you think I'm a giant freak show now?

Why is it okay for Cinderella to say, "A dream is a wish your heart makes" but for a Christian to say, "The Spirit revealed to me truth about the Father's will" is taboo? Granted, we do not need to be declaring false truths (1 John 4:1), but the Spirit does reveal truth. He desires to reveal Himself to us in a bold, radical way but I believe that as Westerners we are too afraid to breech the Spiritual realm for fear of what others will think of us. Or maybe we're too afraid of what we'll experience. Or maybe we just don't care about God enough to live outside our comfort zone and declare the word of the Lord boldly.

I can say that at one point in my life I fit all three of those descriptions. Today I sit on the other side. This post didn't turn out to be at all what I intended but nonetheless it was what is in my heart, waiting to be spilled out.

Has following God's call to join Him in Africa cost me? YES.

Family relationships have been strained, some only hanging on by a thread. Friendships have been terminated. Our faith has been stretched. Our lives mocked. We've sold the house I thought I'd live in forever. We've sacrificed comfort and we will again.

But I can assure you one thing.

Just like the people of Africa, our lives are beautiful.

God has chosen our family (for some reason I will never be able to fully grasp) to take His truth to the unreached people of Africa. And I believe that long before my trip to Guinea-Bissau God has taken us there in spirit, thoughts, dreams and desires.

As I reflect on all that I saw, experienced, felt and lived I can say without hesitation one undeniable truth: Africa feels like home.

Y'all, I'm ready to go home.

Guinea-Bissau Video

Here's a 9ish minute video I made that barely scratches the dirt off our trip to Guinea-Bissau, West Africa. I hope to begin a series of posts outlining the trip, with details, soon. Seriously.

Guinea-Bissau April 2011 from The Beaver Bunch on Vimeo.

Still not the post you're waiting for....sorry!

I know, I know. Many of you would like to read a post about my time in Guinea-Bissau. The words are not coming easily for me though. So much to process and convey to you, that I find it hard to put into mere words.

I've made a video of the pictures and videos taken. It's being uploaded now as we speak...er, type...and should be ready sometime tonight or tomorrow. As soon as it's ready, I'll post it!

In the mean time, I've wanted sit down and blog about my thoughts, experiences and such but I've just not had the time. I hope to be able to this afternoon while the big kids are at grandmas and the little kids are napping. BUT, first I must organize our homeschool cabinet. Homeschool convention is looming just weeks in the distance and I'd like to be better organized before going so I can know what I need verses what I just want. So if all goes well and the cabinet get sorted, then I'll be back later today with a post.

Until then, you can check out my friend Wendi's blog and read her latest entries about our trip.

Love Poop: the greatest gift of all

If you came here for an in-depth post on Africa, well, this isn't it.

I just wanted to let you all know that while I was gone, my AMAZING, TOTALLY AWESOME, FATHER-OF-THE-YEAR HUSBAND completely potty trained Aaron. Aaron's been wearing big boy undies for quite some time now (even before I left) but he'd hold all his poop until naptime and then unleash in his diaper. Or worse, he'd just go in his underwear, then play with it.

So on Monday, when I came home from 11 days away and Luke informed me that Aaron had been pooping in the potty, I was a tad (read: HUGE, COLOSSAL AMOUNT) skeptical. HOWEVER, today, after Bible Study, Aaron came over to me and said, "Mom, I need to go poop" AND THEN HE POOPED IN THE POTTY. And it wasn't his typical, let me squeak out a rabbit pellet to relieve the pressure then wait for the naptime diaper to poop. It was the motherLOAD.

For serious. Y'all can't possibly know what kind of a gift this is to me. Well, if you've read this post, then maybe you do. Yes, I just said a toilet full of poop is a gift. And so is having only ONE CHILD IN DIAPERS.

Y'all it's been almost FIVE YEARS since I've had only 1 kid in diapers. FIVE YEARS of 2 or 3 children wearing diapers.

For the record, my husband rocks. End of story.

Just as I suspected

Africa






is





BEAUTIFUL







just


(photo credit to my friend Wendi)



as I







suspected.

Ordinary

I know that what I'm about to say is not really going to shock any of you. But I have something I want to tell you. Lean in real close, okay?

Ready?

I'm ordinary.

Yep. Just an ordinary girl, who loves the Lord, her husband and her half a dozen crazy kids.

Nothing special. Certainly NOT a "Super-Mom" and definitely NOT a Saint. Despite what people say, I don't have a more-direct-than-you line to God. In fact, there are still days that I don't even open my Bible. Thankfully, those days are becoming fewer and fewer, but they still exist.

I'm not perfect, I think bad thoughts, I say bad things, I DO bad things. Sometimes, when the phone rings, I look at who's calling, roll my eyes then hit "Silent."

I know. Terrible isn't it?

I'm normal. Just because we adopted kids doesn't make us "Mega-Parents." Just because we desire to be Missionaries doesn't mean we are perfect. And while I do believe that we are to be held to a higher standard because of our roles within in the church and our desires to lead people to the feet of Christ, we are still sinners desperate for the grace and forgiveness that the Lord has to offer.

Wanna know what else? I'm scared.

Truth is, I'm a little worried I'm going to have a panic attack on Thursday morning. Just thinking about kissing my man and my kids good-bye for 11 days makes my heart pound, my eyes well up with tears and my breathing become more rapid.

I'm afraid. The enemy takes advantage of my fears and whispers lies to me,

"What will happen to them if you never come home?"

"No good mother would leave her kids and go half way around the world."

"What if they get sick or hurt and you're not here?"

"What if something serious happens and you never even know about it?"

"If you die, will they ever even remember you?"

Just typing those things out has made me short of breath. Truthfully though, I have two choices.

1) I can allow that fear to grip me, paralyze me both spiritually and physically and ruin my preparations over the next two days. I can cave to the attacks of the enemy, who knows how to prey on me in the most vulnerable areas of my life, and melt into a puddle of tears and fear.

OR

2) I can believe that God is sovereign and no matter what happens over the next 2 weeks, HE IS IN CONTROL.

I'm choosing Option #2. And I'm reminding myself of Option #2 moment by moment.

And I'm clinging to Psalm 56:3-4

When I am afraid,
I put my trust in you.
In God, whose word I praise,
in God I trust; I shall not be afraid.
What can flesh do to me?

And also Romans 8:31

What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?

I believe that Christ is worth it. Worth everything that I have. Christ is worth leaving my husband and children for 11 days and traveling to a country with no power grid. A country that runs solely on generators. A country that is listed as one of the poorest in the world. This trip aligns with Scripture, so I know that God is for these things. I believe that He is worth everything that I have.

I believe Acts 1:8 was written for me, and for YOU. I believe that Guinea-Bissau is the ends of the Earth. I believe that God is preparing the hearts of the Badyara people in Canquelifa, Guinea-Bissau to hear about the Best Thing that's ever happened on this Earth.

I believe that the Lord will have His hand on my family and whatever happens, it is FOR HIS GLORY. I believe that I will step onto a plane on Thursday not fully understanding what He intends to show me. I believe that I will return as a changed woman. How could I walk with God and remain the same?

I'm a small town, southern girl who lives in an ordinary house and lives an ordinary life. I'm not any more special than anyone else. Just an ordinary girl serving an amazing, anything-but-ordinary-God.

And I'm asking for your simple, heartfelt, BOLD and BIG prayers. Will you pray that my ordinary self (and the other ordinary people I'm traveling with) will be used in a way that will baffle the people around us?

Here's the basic outline of where our team will be and when. You can click over my sweet friend Wendi's blog for an outline of how to pray for our team.

Here's the outline of our schedule:

Depart April 7, 2011: (I'm leaving out specifics on our departure and return times and layovers, because y'all, the internet creeps me out.) Just know we leave about Noonish.

April 9th, 2011: After a whole DAY of a layover in a our connecting city, we arrive in Guinea-Bissau verrrry early in the morning Guinea-Bissau time. Load up all our luggage and supplies and drive for THREE HOURS on a bumpy, horrible road in a vehicle that's probably not suited for 6 people and their luggage. I'd love for you to pray that NONE of us get carsick.

We spend a full day on April 9th with some Missionaries who live in Eastern GB.

April 10, 2011: Travel to the village of Canquelifa, Guinea-Bissau (Again, another hot, cramped, lengthy, bumpy car ride.) Click here to see the best detailed map I could find of GB. Canquelifa is up there in the top, right hand corner of the country. I have a feeling that the village of Canquelifa is going to give this country girl a whole new perspective of "living in the sticks."

April 11 - 15, 2011: Team will begin door-to-door (or hut-to-hut) evangelism in the mornings. Most of the people of GB are animistic or believe in folk Islam. Please pray specifically that the Lord would soften the hearts of the people so that they can hear that what we are saying is TRUTH. In the evenings, we will show a series of films in an effort to disciple the few believers that are in the village. Please pray for the team members as we attempt to disciple believers through an interpreter.

April 16, 2011 - Another hot, bumpy, lengthy car ride (over 5 hours worth total).

April 17 - 18, 2011 - Travel home, arriving in the evening on the 18th.

Thank you for praying for myself, Wendi, another stay-at-home mom named "L" and two gentlemen ("I" and "V") who are seasoned travelers to Guinea-Bissau.

And thank you for praying for our families as they live life here at home. You guys are awesome.

I can't wait to tell you all about what God has done and continues to do in Guinea-Bissau! Talk at you in a couple weeks.

GOD ANSWERS PRAYER!

EVAN IS COMING HOME!!

Click here to read the official post from Evan's family but, y'all, SHE'S COMING HOME!!

The same judge that denied the adoption of another child with Down Syndrome just a couple of weeks ago GRANTED THE ADOPTION of Evan who also happens to have Down Syndrome.

THE SAME JUDGE!

God is amazing y'all. Simply amazing. Thank you for praying with me and countless others.

How I am praying that now, the judge will overturn her own ruling for Kirill's family! Will you pray with me about that too?