Joshua at Half-Time

I think it was about six months ago that an article/blog post was floating around Facebook, and it was about the concept of "Half Time" in your child's life.   Apparently, this occurs when your child turns 9.  I guess it makes sense, because they've already lived their first 9 years, and technically, they'll only have the next 9 years of living under the care of their parents before leaving home and venturing out on their own.  The article went on and asked parents to evaluate the first 9 years, and what the next nine might look like.

My Joshua is 9 today.  Nine.  How did this happen?

I remember the feeling of ecstatic joy when Jared and I found out that we were expecting Joshua, and I also remember the immense fear when I thought I might lose him when I experienced pre-term labor at 26 weeks and was put on automatic bed-rest.  During my 13 weeks of bed-rest, I felt anxiety, wanting Joshua to stay in the protective care of my womb, and with each passing week with him staying in-utero, it was a small victory.  But it was also during that season of bed-rest that I prayed relentlessly for this child.  I prayed every day that he would be okay, that he would be healthy, that even in the midst of my fear and anxiety, I knew God was already forming Joshua into the person that He intended, and I prayed for my little guy to be "strong and courageous", to live up to his name-sake.  My Joshua.  My little fighter.  He made it to 39 weeks.

And on May 26, 2006, I was admitted to Good Shepherd Hospital in Barrington.  I was excited and couldn't wait to meet my baby boy.  But a scary turn of events happened just when I was about to deliver naturally.  There was a rush of activity, and the pleasantries of the doctor and nurses were replaced with immediate seriousness and they started talking to each other...fast and in jargon I didn't understand.  Next thing I knew, they whisked Jared out of the room, and everything was a blur as more medical people came into my room.  They started moving my bed on wheels and heard someone yell "Prep the OR!".  A wave of panic swept over me, and I remember asking, "What's going on?!".  My sweet doctor took my hand and said that the baby was in distress, and that she had to perform an emergency c-scetion.  She said, "He'll be okay.  He'll be okay, but we need to do the c-section right now.".  Apparently, the baby's heart-rate had plummeted because the umbilical cord was around his neck.  I don't remember a lot of what happened next, maybe I signed some paperwork, maybe I didn't.  But I do remember praying through tears, "Lord, please save Joshua.  Take me, if it comes to that.  But please save Joshua."

They must have pumped me with so much drugs that I the next thing I remember was waking up in the recovery room.  I was alone at first, and very disoriented, wondering if I was dreaming.  I was in a fog.  Then, I saw Dr. Keith's smiling face, and then I remembered what had happened.  In my raspy voice, I asked "Is my baby ok?".  And she said that he was beautiful and perfect, and that I would get to meet him soon when I'm back in my room.  I was so relieved that I cried, and began thanking God profusely.  

Waiting to see Joshua for the first time seemed like an eternity.  I was back in my room, and I was relieved to see Jared.  He was giddy with happiness and said that he had seen Joshua and that he was small (5 lbs, 14oz!), but so cute.   And the moment came when the nurse wheeled in a clear plastic crib with a little white bundle in it.  The nurse started telling me things, which I honestly don't remember (but it was all captured in the video, so it's all good!).  I think it was about the security bands, etc., and she started telling Jared where to find diapers and wipes.  Really?!  I just want to hold my baby!!

When the nurse placed Joshua in my arms, and I held my baby boy for the first time, I couldn't stop the tears.  They were happy tears of joy and relief.  My beautiful, tiny, perfect son.  He fought through 13 weeks of pre-term labor, he fought through fetal distress, and he finally made it into my arms!  And when I looked into his beautiful face for the first time, I knew my heart would never be the same again.

My Joshua.  He's 9 today.  He still has a hold of my heart.  As I see him grow from early childhood to his elementary school years, I see a steadfastness in him.  What stands out is his heart.  His beautiful, compassionate, and tender heart.  He's sensitive, and considers others before himself.  He is slow to anger (most of the time!), and loves his sisters (even though he pretends not to!).  His sweet-nature is alluring, and his empathetic self is at its best when there are hurting people around, myself included.  He loves the Lord, and sometimes goes on-and-on about how he can't wait to get to heaven to be with Jesus, and that can be unnerving to me.  He's on a journey of wanting to know Jesus more, and is reading his Bible and even started journaling.  God bless him!

At the end of each school year, I have Joshua's teachers write in the Dr. Seuss book Oh, the Places You'll Go! that I had purchased for him.  It is my intent to give this to him on his graduation day in high school.  That way, he can see how his teachers (starting from Kindergarten!) felt about him.  So far, their sentiments have been very consistent.  And this is confirmation of who Joshua is.  Each teacher (there's only 4 so far!) has mentioned adjectives like "helpful", "kind", "cares for others", "respectful", "joy to have in class",  his 2nd grade teacher, Mr. Yu, even said:

"You were patient, understanding, and empathetic towards all - it was like having a little miniature adult walking around my classroom...I have no doubt that you are growing up to be a strong leader and righteous man..."

Reading these words about my son makes me so proud of Joshua...of who he is, and who he is becoming.  It's not anything I've done, but it's by the grace of God.

I love the traditions I have with Joshua, like going on Mommy-Joshua dates (we always go to Sonic, his favorite fast food place!), going to the zoo to celebrate his birthday every year, watching the Amazing Race together with a set goal that we'd do it together some day. I love holding his hand while walking him to school (I'm not sure how much longer he'll let me do this!).  I love when he talks smack about beating me in a 1-mile race, and if I did beat him, he'd make a silly excuse that the sun was in his eye (ha!).  I love when he whispers his secrets in my ear and makes me promise not to tell.  I love that he's learned how to make me a cup of tea!  I love that he LOVES to read (yay!!).  I love talking sports with him, especially football (American and English!).  Ok, and I love that he loves soccer and is so good at it!

I love how he's willing to help and is the first one to always make a birthday or get well card.  I love our conversations right before bed time, it's like he knows he can ask me anything or talk to me about anything (we had a 2.5 hour conversation about theology which somehow ended up with me explaining the birds and the bees!  That's a story for another time!).  I love that he asks me to pray for him, even for mundane things like a math test, or a soccer game, or an upset tummy.  I love that he has that kind of trust in God.   

I love how he encourages me, like when we watch American Ninja Warrior, and he tells me that I can do it, just like Kacy Catanzaro.  I love how he gives me so much grace, especially after I see myself crushing his spirit and then going back to apologize.  He expends his forgiveness so freely to the point where I feel that I don't deserve it.  My son is an example of Jesus to me!

And, I loved being the one that got to pray with him when he asked Jesus into his heart.

I grew up in a dysfunctional home, and I didn't know what a good parent looked like.  Or what I thought a good parent was, in hindsight, wasn't a very healthy view.  I remember telling myself that if I ever had kids, I was going to give my children what I never had.  I'm not talking about material possessions, but I was adamant in giving them the emotional and spiritual foundation that I never had.  In my quest to becoming a "good enough" mom, I immersed myself in books, conferences, bible studies, etc.   But I believe that I huge part of it was prayer.  Prayers of surrender, prayers for wisdom, prayers for God to help me do my best, prayers for grace when I mess up.  

I am the most blessed of mothers, for God has blessed me beyond measure with the gift of Joshua.  May the next 9 years be full of God's grace and mercy as I journey alongside my son as he navigates the seasons of adolescence, spiritual, intellectual, and emotional development, and of finding his identity.  May God give me wisdom and discernment to teach him, encourage him, cheer him on, be on my knees in prayer for him daily, and point him to seek first God's kingdom.  May Josh ultimately find his identity in Christ, and may he grow up to be the man God has created him to be, the strong and courageous kind, one who loves Jesus and loves others.  May Joshua know the depths of my love for him, and may God give me the peace and strength when the time comes for me to let him go.

Happy birthday Joshua!  I love you with my whole heart.

IF: Gathering...Part 1

I went to the IF:Gathering last weekend, and before I forget some of the impressions it left on me, I wanted to write it down.  You know how they talk about the "spiritual high" that one gets after a conference or retreat?  I guess I'm riding the "high" right now, but this kind of adrenaline is something that I hope stays...something that will linger and convict me on a daily basis.

As I wrote in my previous post, my word for this year is "freedom". Coincidentally, or God-incidentally rather, one of the central themes to the IF:Gathering is freedom.  Right off the bat, Jennie Allen confessed that she didn't know what God was going to do this weekend, but she knew He was going to do something big.  What could be bigger than releasing one from bondage, and be reminded of the gift of freedom that God wants to give us!?

From heartfelt testimonials of a woman, Margaret Feinberg, who had been given the sentence of cancer, but yet chose to defeat fear and to find freedom in her daily choice of living joyfully; to a teenager who chose to write a song about joy and the human spirit called "Clouds" during his last days before his disease took him, and his mom, Laura Sobiech, who chose to continue his legacy by sending messages of hope and joy through her book Fly A Little Higher.  These were testimonies from ordinary people with an extraordinary message of hope and freedom.

Then there were the big guns, like Jen Hatmaker, my girl Christine Caine, Jennie Allen, Angie Smith, Rebekah Lyons, and Bianca Olthoff (the last 3 of whom I've just gotten acquainted with their teaching and have already garnered my respect!).  The central theme to the conference was the call to believe, and answered questions of why don't we believe, how do we believe, and what could happen if we believe.  The initial tug at my heart-strings came during the opening message where Jennie said that we'd focus on the story of Joshua in the book of Numbers.  And throughout the weekend, the quote "Be strong and courageous" resounded over and over again.  

Each time it was spoken, I thought of my Joshua.  I pray this prayer over him every night, imploring him to be strong and courageous.  As I pray for him, I sometimes see his teenage, grown-up self in my mind and I'm encouraging him to be strong and courageous no matter what the circumstance.  During the course of the weekend, I realized that God is praying this prayer over me!  I need to be strong and courageous, to know that He is with me, that He is for me; that I need to trust Him, I need to believe who He says He is.  Jen Hatmaker said, "When we start to believe His character, you'll start to believe what He says about you."  Wow!!  God is a Promiseland God.  He set us free for freedom-sake!

I want to be just like Joshua of the bible.  He and Caleb were the only 2 who could see the promise that God had for his people.  The other 10 could not see the promises because they were not living out their identity, and a whole generation missed out!  I don't want my children and their children to miss out on the promises that God has for us!  Jo Saxon, another speaker, said "Free people, free people!".  Oh, how I long for that!

I just realized (duh!) that I'm a first-generation Christian in my family.  How did our great God choose me to begin this legacy of faith so that generations from here on out will not miss out on His promises?  And more importantly, why?  This just blows my mind!  That He would consider little old me, who was smack in the middle of a staunch buddhist (mom) and polytheist (dad) set of parents, is a story of major rescue and redemption, and also of promise.  As I look back at how I came to know Christ, I believe that He used even my non-believing parents to set me on the course of faith.  Somehow He had put a thought and desire in their hearts to send me to a Methodist school that was founded by missionaries.  It could also be that this school was the closest school to my grandparents, who took care of my sister and I during the weekdays.  Whatever the reason...proximity, a prompting, them wanting me to be in an all-girl school, etc., I believe God's plan was set in motion for my life right from the beginning.  Little did I know back then that this faith, my faith in the God of the Bible, will be the only thing that I held on to as seasons of life-changing difficulties would ensue and wreck my world.

I digress, but it was important for me to recount those events, because as I write this, I am reminded of God's faithfulness to me.  I need to remember!

So many years have passed since my childhood faith, but I want that back.  I want to be like my Joshua.  His child-like faith to believe wholeheartedly in God and who He is.  My own limits blind me to God's capacity.  Jen Hatmaker said, "we don't have to have full confidence in ourselves, just in God".  And with my Joshua, he trusts God and somehow believes that God will take care of everything.

We know that God is good in the day

We find out that He is good at night

He is even better when things are bad

(Jen Hatmaker)

I've been reading a lot of Christine Caine's books, and in Unstoppable, she talks about ministry being like a relay race.  It's not based on the individual, but on team effort.  Similarly, her message at the conference had the same theme.  A lot of people talk about their destiny, their purpose, their goal.  But she challenged us to think about how it is NOT my destiny, but it's about advancing the cause of the kingdom of God.  Service is the key to our destiny, service is the key to our believing life.  To serve people, even though it may be costly, is a step towards claiming God's promises.  The call of God will be inconvenient and interrupt your life.  Boy, do I know it!  Hearing this message was challenging for me.  It made me think about the Kingdom, rather than how ministry and service have affected me.  It made me think about how I need to serve others, no matter what.  Because it's not about me.  It's about God's Kingdom.  I need to be strong and courageous, take that step of faith, and move towards what God has called me to do.  

So, what has He called me to do?  For such a time as this, I feel that the obvious is true: wife, mother, friend, ministry leader.  But what does my heart cry out to do?  What is my holy discontent?  This is something that I need to seek the Lord for clarity.  While I have some inklings of what I'm passionate about and what I want to fight for, there's still a part of me that is unsure.  I feel like I've lost so much of myself and my identity in the last decade, that when posed with the question, what do you want to do?  I so much as stare and become speechless because, sometimes, I honestly don't know.  I know many moms with young kids feel the same way.  Our lives have been so wrapped around raising our kids and taking care of the family that we've lost ourselves along the way, at least for me, anyway (this will be a blog post on it's own!).  Hence, this weekend was so good just to get away and listen and be encouraged, but also to be challenged to seek God and seek out who He has called us to be.  

Bianca Olthoff capped off the conference with her powerful message about how bondage and unbelief keep us from the Promiseland.  Again, a constant reminder to not lose our vision, but to be strong and courageous and step out in faith even when we don't see fruit.  She said, "results are God's responsibility, and response is ours".

So...

I want to be free.
I want to believe.
I want to respond.
I want to discover and be faithful to who He has called me to be.
I want to play my part in this race that He has set out for me.
I want to encourage, inspire others to run their race, to cheer them on.
I want to "throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.  Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith...so that you will not grow weary and lose heart." (Hebrews 12:1-3)

For "we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses", we are being cheered on, and God, our loving Father, is our biggest cheerleader!

My word for 2015

Every new year, I think of a word or a phrase that I want to strive to live by.  Other years, my word had been "simplicity", "purge", etc.  As I reflect on 2014, while there have been many wonderful moments and memories made, which I am so thankful for, it was also a year where I felt like a sleeping dragon that laid dormant for so long, had slowly been woken from its slumbering stupor, and finally decided to raise it's ugly head to torment and destroy.  Think of it as my own personal Smaug (for all the Tolkien fans, you know what I mean!).

It's not only one dragon, but a family of them.  One I call Shame, another I call Self-Loathing, then there are the twins, You-Don't-Belong-Anywhere (YDBA, for short), and You're-Not-Good-Enough.  There's yet another I call Lonely, and it's favorite cousin Despair.

I'm not one to throw a pity party for myself.  First of all, you need more than one to have a party.  But since it's just me, I've kept a lot of it to myself; deluding myself into thinking that I can deal with it.  The lies of "nobody has time for you...nobody wants to listen to your problems and struggles anyway...suck it up and move on...for pete's sake, you're a pastor's wife so slap on a happy face...you're the black sheep, you don't belong..." have been the constant voices that I've allowed to drown out Truths.  As I let these lies penetrate my thoughts and psyche, I slowly started to believe them.  How did it come to this?

I realized that I haven't dealt with some aspects of my past - past hurts and pains which have been stifled, and now, the ramifications are huge.  I prided myself in having dealt with family-of-origin issues.  It was such a break-through for me dealing with that!  I knew I had to process through my growing up years, and to stop the generational sin that had been passed down.  My motive was out of a desperation to be a better mother and better wife.  By the grace of God, a lot of my past with my family has been redeemed.  And it is by this same grace that I am a different person than I could have turned out to be.  I'm not some great mom or wife, but I'm, at least, a healthier one.  But working on my past had stopped there.  Until recently...

The more I read, especially from Dan Allender and Brene Brown, the more I can attest to the fact that yes, in every human being, one of our basest, innate desires is to belong: belonging to a family, a social group, a church group, even in one's own intimate circle of friends.  And it is that feeling of not belonging anywhere that has gripped me, and paralyzed me into a state of numbness - that I'm here to be used by others, and then discarded and disregarded when they have no more use of me.  It sends me into a tailspin of feelings of loneliness and despair.

So, circumstances and moments, even people, would trigger these feelings.  Because of it's regular occurrence, sometimes the presence of certain circumstances or people would inadvertently cause me to feel anxious and afraid.

I believe this to be one of the busiest seasons in my life, in any mother's life who has a handful of school-going kids and who's also working, doing ministry, etc.  When I watched the movie "Mom's Night Out" over Christmas break, I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, wondering if there had been a hidden camera in my home to capture the very relatable moments in the movie!  I related to both Allyson (the main character) and Sondra (the pastor's wife).  It was overwhelming to watch, but at the same time, comforting, knowing that I'm not the only one going through this.

I'm feeling pulled in so many directions, and for the most part, not feeling like I'm doing anything right.  I hear a lot of criticisms, and not a lot of affirmations.  And while certain people are the way they are (I hate that phrase, by the way!), I don't think they realize their offenses and how their actions can be hurtful.  I'm not a very confrontational person, but I believe in the biblical exhortation of Matthew 18 where you need to go to the person who has offended you.  To follow this truth has really stretched me, and though uncomfortable as it may be, I try to heed it as much as I can.  However, there's nothing much I can do if someone doesn't want to listen or change.  It's easy for me to say "I've done my part, so I just need to move on."  Or in terms of circumstances, I can't really change something that's pretty much set in stone, like a particular program or workshop.  But it's the presence of the said person or circumstance that triggers all of my negative feelings. 

So, I found myself spiraling...into a pit.  (I think there's a Beth Moore study called "Get Out of the Pit"...maybe I need to study that!)  A pit that's big enough just for me and no one else.  And that pit got deeper and darker till I could barely see the light.

But I know I'm not completely alone.  "Where can I hide from you, O God?" 

Even in the midst of hopelessness, there is still hope.  There is a still, small voice that soothes and encourages.  There is a faint push towards the light.  Somewhere in the fogginess, God yet again gives me the strength I need to take that small step forward.  In His gentleness, He whispers His Truths, about me and who He has created me to be.

I've let others define me, and I've become someone that I'm not.  I've caught myself treating others in the way that they've treated me, and I do it out of spite and hurt and anger.  But to done a different skin other than your own, it's uncomfortable and the voice in my head screams "that's not you!!".  So enough!  God has given me gifts of mercy, faith, and hospitality.  Let me use them to the best of my abilities.  If others should choose to abuse it and take advantage of it, then there's nothing I can do.  At least I can say that I've been true to myself and true to God.

Living in the clutches of despair...this is not the life that God has intended!  He has not called me to cower and hide.  He did not throw in the towel and leave me defeated.  He has called me to arise, to take up arms and fight.  To fight for my God-given right of an abundant life, to fight for freedom.  Christ came to set us free!  I need to claim that promise and not live in defeat.  I will fight for my freedom!  My freedom in Christ!

I will wield my sword and shield, immersing myself in God's word and truth.  I will put on my armor, staying prayerful and watchful.  I will rise up against these strongholds, these dragons, and fight for my freedom!  For if God is for me, who can be against me?

My word this year is "freedom", and this is my desolation of Smaug.

The Time Has Come...

(Sorry about the weird highlighted text.  I was cutting and pasting it from my journal entry.)      September 17, 2014

Today is the first day that all 3 kids are at school and I’m marking this epic occasion by sitting at Starbucks with my venti decaf mocha non-fat, no whip.  God has also blessed this September morning with gorgeous weather, and I’m sitting alfresco at The Streets of Woodfield (or as the hip teenagers call it,“The Streets”!)
 

I have to confess that when I dropped Becca off at Conant a few minutes ago, I didn’t want to let her go.  Granted, this is technically her second week of preschool, but last week didn’t count because I was with her in the classroom.  This week will be her first full week, without me there.  She’s been having a difficult time transitioning into new situations, which is rare for Becca.  Anyone who knows her knows that she’s probably the most social of our 3 kids.  But even last week, I had a friend take her to gymnastics, and she refused to go in without me.  So, she sat out for about 20 minutes until I got there.

I feared today would be the same.  But my brave, little girl gave me a big hug and looked me in the eye.  Her eyes told me “Mommy, I’m going to be brave.  I’m going to be okay.”.  And those of you who know Becca, her big brown eyes can speak a million words, and pierce the very soul!  I embraced her for a long time, and then I released her to her high school helper.  Her hands left mine, and reached for the hand of another.  At that transaction, my heart knew that this was just the beginning of me letting her go, that I can no longer control or watch over her, or even guarantee her safety.  But the truth of the matter is, God is with her and He will go with her to all the places that I can’t.  He will be her guardian, her playmate, her confidante, her protector, her boo-boo-kisser.  And in that, I find comfort.

So it is with all my kids.  I thought I would take to new milestones easily, because I’ve had to go through so many with Joshua.  But it doesn’t get any easier.  In fact, as the last one completes each milestone, there is a sense of finality because there will be no more.  No more changing diapers, no more midnight wake-up calls, no more high chairs, no more riding in strollers (unless you’re 8, and whining at Disney World that you’re tired of walking!), no more bottles to prepare, no more pureed or chopped up food, no more onesies, no more bassinettes and cribs.  No more shopping in the baby section, but instead, having to walk across the aisle at Target to shop at the big kids section.

 

 

While each season comes with both blessings and trials, I’m learning to embrace and enjoy each season.  To grieve that which has come and gone, but also to celebrate all the moments in the present.  Maybe that’s why Jared and I are such looneys when it comes to celebrating even the smallest of moments, like when the kids went pee-pee in the potty for the first time, or when Jenna tries a new food (that’s a big cause for celebration!), or when Joshua scores goals in soccer.  Celebrating the moment is and always will be part of our family’s DNA, and for that, I’m very grateful.

If I spend too much time grieving, then I’ll miss out on the blessings of the new season.  And there is so much to look forward too!!  In this season, with Joshua being 8, Jenna 5, and Becca 3, we have so much fun together!  It’s easier to travel (especially on an overseas trip!).  I love our conversations, the silly questions, their innocence, their wanting to help and please mom and dad, but also wanting to flex some independent muscles as well.  I love seeing their learning grow exponentially, from reading to riding bikes to asking a million questions about tornados and fireflies, and Jenna wanting to learn how to bake and cook, even though she won’t try a lick of anything!  I love seeing how Becca tries to emulate her older siblings, and use phrases like “Everything is awesome if you’re part of team!”.  I love how our kids enjoy art and creating, but at the same time, enjoy a wrestling match and climbing trees.  

I love seeing glimpses of Joshua’s quiet confidence, leadership, and work ethics. I pray that God will use Jared and I to hone and nurture these traits, so that Josh may grow up to be a man of strength and integrity.  I love seeing Jenna’s focused abilities (especially with puzzles!), and her graceful movements, and her love for the arts.  I remember my sister-in-law, Rachel, saying that she can picture Jenna dancing in front of the throne of God.  Oh what a vision!  That is my heart’s prayer for her, that she would dance with abandon and worship her one true King!  I love seeing my baby Becca’s feistiness, her determination, no-holds-barred attitude to accomplish the things that are important to her, and to make her voice known.  I pray that she will be a mighty warrior for God’s Kingdom, fighting for those who cannot speak, fighting the injustice that plagues our fallen world, and to fight the good fight for His glory.

 

As I look at each of my children, and how God has gifted and blessed them, I pray that in each season of their lives, from childhood to adolescence to adulthood, that God would open my eyes to SEE them.  To see how I can nurture their gifts and talents, to show them that they can live an abundant life for His glory.
 

And at the end of the day, may they know how much I truly, deeply love them.  That my love for them will transcend time and seasons.  In my heart, they will always be my little Joshua, Jenna, and Becca...the little ones who goof around, wrestle, scream and yell, but also passionately embrace and smother me with kisses.  They fill my heart with the core of who they are, and I carry this fullness with me from season to season.  My cup indeed will continue to overflow.
 

Courage

(I wrote this last week...yeah, my posts are sitting as drafts for way too long...sorry!)

As I'm writing this, my soul is unsettled, and I am anxious.  I didn't think the day would come when my 7-year-old has to go to school and sit through a sex abuse education program.  We were given notice less than a week ago that this would be happening.  It seems too soon, and my mind has been in a whirlwind.  While it's not sex ed, it's still a discussion about the difference between a good touch and a bad touch.  I guess the unnerving thing is that the children will be introduced to the fact that sex abuse can happen, and at the potential hands of the closest people they know.

As adults, we know this to be true.  But to be honest, I am not prepared for my 7-year-old to come to grips with that reality just yet.  I know I can't protect him forever, but I feel a compelling need to protect his innocence perhaps for a little while longer.  And I fear that tomorrow marks the day when his little innocent bubble may be pierced a little.  And then it will all begin.

I know I sound dramatic.  But listen to the rest of the story, and you'll know why.

We're very blessed to have an understanding principal, and he has been really great in communicating with parents and being receptive to listening to our concerns and respecting our decisions.  I had requested for a meeting with him to look at the curriculum that will be presented to the children in Joshua's class.  While nothing major stood out, I was still unsettled about the different scenarios that will be presented as an "assessment" of whether the action is appropriate or not, and what will constitute a good secret or bad secret.  Also, I do not know who the school psychologist is who will be presenting the program.  I do not know what the question-and-answer time will be like and what kind of answers will be given to the children. 

With these unknowns, Jared and I felt that we should request that Joshua not participate in the program.  Yes, this is an option!  We've talked to Joshua pretty much about everything that will be covered in the program.  We want the truths to come from us.  And this is something that I've learned in my Tim Kimmel's Grace-Based Parenting studies - that we need to establish truth (about sex/sexuality) before the world distorts it. 

During the course of the last few days, and in conversations with other parents from Joshua's class and school, it became clear that Joshua is probably the only student that will not be participating in the program from his class.  He will be the only one that will leave the class, walk down to the office, and wait till the program is over before returning to class.

This is where the protective, emotional, mommy part of me is aching. 

It will take courage in Joshua to be the only one to walk out of his room.  It will take courage for him to know that somehow, he is different.  It will take courage to stand up and walk away from his peers.  And it will take courage for him to know that what he is doing is the right thing (not that his classmates aren't right.  But they've chosen something different.)

It will take courage for me to let him go to school tomorrow.  It will take courage for me to relinquish control over the outcome.  It will take courage for me to allow the innocence of my baby boy to be perhaps pierced a little.  It will take everything in me to not run to rescue him and keep him in my protective care.

Courage. 

Interestingly...or perhaps, God-intended...I've been reading a lot about courage these days.  I just finished a chapter on courage in the second Grace-Based Parenting book called "Raising Kids Who Turn Out Right".  While the chapter is about instilling courage in our children, I feel that the lessons hold true for me too. 

Courage.

It is the prayer I pray for my children every single night.  The prayer of Joshua from the bible...to be "strong and courageous.  Do not be afraid, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go."  And I find myself praying that pray for me these past few days.

Courage.

As I witnessed the marathon runners last Sunday when I was in Chicago cheering Jared on, I was inspired by their courage, their endurance, their perseverance.  For some, this was a courageous goal...to attain something that they thought they never could.  The courage to continue running even when they were hurting, especially when they hit "the wall".  I watched the wheelchair marathoners in awe.  I was moved to tears by the blind man who had 2 friends hold him by his arms on both sides and they were running alongside with him.  I was filled with admiration for the man with spina bifida who ran the marathon...and completed it in 16 hours!

Jared completed the marathon in 4 hours!

The wheelchair marathoners!

The courage of these people is inspiring.  And perhaps God had me witness these people's courageous acts to encourage me in my own struggle for courage. 

I need to have the courage to let go.  I need to have the courage to let Joshua and the girls grow, KNOWING full well that God is with them wherever they go. 

One of the lessons that Tim Kimmel mentioned is teaching our kids how to stand up for something that may cause them to be set apart from everyone else.  This will be true tomorrow.  Not only for Joshua, but for us as a family as well.  God has called us to be set apart anyway.  But for Joshua's sake, I pray that there will be no repercussions of being teased or made fun of.  But if that happens, I pray that he will have the strength and courage to meet it with his head held high, and be secure in the knowledge that what he's doing is right despite what others may say.

"Courage, Merry.  Courage for our friends."  This is when Eowyn assures Merry before the final battle in the third installment of the Lord of the Rings trilogy.  Courage.  Courage for our family, and our friends.  Even when it seems like I'm standing alone, I know that God is with me.  And if God is with me, who can be against me?

So aching heart, take courage!

The List...#13

#13.  Run a Half Marathon

(FYI...this is a little long!)

Running the Half has been a personal quest this year.  I don't pretend to be a runner, because I'm not one.  I don't pretend to enjoy it, because I don't.  So, why run the Chicago Half Marathon?  I guess it's one of those challenges that I gave to myself.  Something that would require me to step out of my comfort zone.  Something that would require me to harness all my inner strength and discipline (especially having to get out of bed early!).  Something that is bigger than me, and would throw me into a state of total trust and reliance on God for His strength.

Growing up, I was on the track team and ran sprints, typically the 100m, 200m, the 4x100 relay.  As I got older, I started running 5Ks.  Initially, I ran 5Ks because it was for a worthy cause (I only participate in ones that are fundraisers for a non-profit).  I told myself that 5Ks would be the longest race I'd ever run.  I don't have the endurance nor the stamina to run anything longer (or rather, I don't have the endurance or patience to want to train for anything longer!).  I also thought the long runs would be boring.

Anyway, I challenged myself this year to doing something significant, to check something off my bucket-list, and to make my 40th year stand out a little bit more in my story.  And if that something significant could somehow benefit others, then I should do it.  Last year, I had the honor and privilege to travel to Bolivia with 5 other members of my church (one of them being Jared!).  We spent time at a local church in El Alto called Bethesda, and participated in the children's program.  And, oh the children!  They captured my heart!  You can read all about my experience in Bolivia here.

We found out earlier this year that the children's program is in jeopardy because of lack of funding.  Their previous sponsors had decided to pull out.  So our church is stepping in, and has committed to help them by raising funds to keep the children's program going.  We committed to raising $5000 by November 1st.  Without the children's program at Bethesda, I can't even begin to articulate the dire consequences.  These children will be back on the streets, roaming around the most dangerous city in South America, and who will fight for them and their future? 

It's because of the gravity and sense of urgency of this situation that I decided not only to run the half marathon, but to also use my run to raise money to help keep the children's program going.  I don't know how much I will raise, or even come close to putting a dent in their financial needs.  But I know that I can't sit on the sidelines and not do anything about it!  So, I made a decision to sign up for the Half and began my training in June.  (I would be honored if you'd like to partner with me, and if you are considering a financial gift, please go here to donate.)

It hasn't been an easy few months of training.  There were many days that I wanted to quit.  But as I saw the financial support of people coming in, I knew that there was no turning back.  Darn it, I had accountability now!  I remember mornings when I would lay in bed and try to come up with excuses as to why I can't train.  Then the faces of the children of Bethesda would come to mind.  I just had to get my butt out of bed and do this for them.

At every run, I always start off by praying for these kids.  It helps me to keep focused on why I'm doing this.  I know most people run with music on.  But this is something that hadn't worked for me.  Maybe on the short runs, I can handle listening to music.  But those long runs...the ones that I thought were going to be so boring...I had to figure out how to get through them without going crazy.  So lately, I've been listening to messages online pretty much every day while my girls have nap time and down time in the afternoons.  I decided to download some messages on iTunes and listen to it while I ran.  And holy iTunes Batman, I loved it!  It made me feel like the run was shorter, and I was able to listen to messages that filled me, encouraged me, grew me.  Not to sound weird, but I didn't feel like I was running alone.  It was almost as if God was running right alongside with me, encouraging me, teaching me truths, and giving me the strength to keep going on.  Granted, it's really hard to run when you're all choked up by the message and trying not to cry.  It messes with your breathing!  But honestly, I wasn't really paying attention to where I was running because I was so focused on listening to the message (I would drive by my running route and would notice things that I didn't notice when I was running!). 

All this said, I am glad that I chose to run the Half.  Again, God in His infinite wisdom knew that while I chose to run to raise funds for the children's program in Bolivia, God chose to bless me at the same time during my training as I listened to His word being preached.   I know that I've grown closer to Him, and have a hunger for His word in a way that I haven't had in a very long time.  And all this is because of running.

Running has become Jared's passion, and I can see why.  His desire is to be able to grow spiritually through his running, and to run for God's glory.  While I may not run another half marathon (and I'm not intending to run the Full!), I can attribute running to helping me grow closer to God.  I won't admit to this when I'm up at 5:30am, but when I'm out there in the crisp cool morning, and it's just me and God, and I'm listening to His truths, something holy takes place.  It's as if I'm in a shroud of holiness and every stride I take is just a humming of my heart enjoying the presence of my Jesus.  And at the end of my training run, I feel full, alive, and anticipate my next run when I can listen to Him again.  I don't think it's the runner's high that people talk about, because I still dread the long runs.  But it is a spiritual high that is driving me.

I didn't intend for this to be so long, but I hope you can celebrate along with me because I completed the Half Marathon today! 

Here's my account of the day:
The atmosphere was amazing.  The energy was palpitating.  I couldn't believe how many people were there!  Even though I didn't get to see my family or friends before the race, I knew that they would be cheering me on at Mile 2, 5, 12, and 13.  So, I had those mile markers to look forward to.  The beginning of the race was a little chaotic.  I felt like we were a pack of sardines being squished and had to move together like lemmings.  It was difficult to find any personal space...as you can tell, I'm a novice runner.  However, it was so fun to see Jared and the kids and my in laws at Mile 2, with their big signs!

Once I hit Lake Shore Drive and was running north, my wonderful friends, Amy and Ruth, were there to cheer me on too!  Soon after that, I was really having a hard time maintaining my pace.  The winds were pretty strong, and was going against us.  And I wasn't used to the madness at every water station (no wonder people carry their own water).  When I hit Mile 10, my knees and ankles started to hurt.  I thought, oh no, how am I going to run 3 more miles with this pain?  Being the strong-willed person that I am, I did NOT want to start walking.  If anything, a medic would have to lay me on a stretcher to get me to stop running.  It was the last 3 miles that really challenged me and tested me.  My feet and legs were screaming in pain, and every part of my body wanted to stop running.  But then, I kept thinking about all the words of encouragement that people had given to me or wrote on my Facebook wall.  I had commented on Facebook that "(their) words will fuel me".  And indeed they did.  And when I saw Amy and Ruth again at Mile 12, Ruth held a sign she had made for me.  It said "When your feet hurt, run with your heart."  It was exactly what I needed to hear!  So, I picked up my pace during Mile 13 and literally sprinted the last 0.1 mile to the finishing line.  I wanted to finish under 2 hours and 30 minutes.  I did 2:20.  Praise God!

My beautiful friends, Ruth and Amy!

I learned so many lessons about perseverance today.  But the big take-aways are the importance of encouragement, of finding people who believe in you, who will stand by you, and will cheer you on even when you want to give up.  Even though I may never do another half marathon again, I've experienced tangible analogies of the importance of community, of being a cheerleader, of the power of belief...even if just one person believed in you, and the power of words.

I'm so thankful for my wonderful husband who never stopped believing in me, and "trained" me these past few months.  I'm so blessed with awesome friends who took time out of their day to cheer me on even if it meant only seeing me for a few seconds.  And I'm eternally grateful to the many friends and family who have blessed me with their words of encouragement.  Thank you all for helping me get through this and for helping me fulfill a crazy whim to complete a half marathon!

The List...#10, #11, #12

#10. Get a new bike

The last time I owned a bike was when I was at ISU.  I lived off-campus and thought it would be a great way to get around if I had a bike.  I had a small car too, but it just seemed silly to drive 2 minutes to campus and take 10 minutes to find a parking spot.

Anyway, I've always loved biking.  Joshua loves the story of how I learned to ride a bike.  I remember my dad taking me to the top of a small hill, and he, literally, pushed me down it.  Yep!  That's how I learned to ride.  I fell a lot, got lots of cuts and bruises, but hey, I learned how to ride my big girl bike!

Growing up, one of my favorite places to ride my bike was along the beach.   There was a bike path that hugged the coast, and it would go on for miles and miles.  I loved going fast...I loved feeling the wind on my face...I think I just loved the freedom and the escape from the mundaneness of life (I was pretty philosophical back when I was 7...haha!).  As an adult, it would be a dream come true to ride a bike through the English or Italian country sides.  The rolling hills and endless beauty are so appealing.  Biking, like running, can be very therapeutic.  As least for me, anyway.

So, having been bike-less for almost 14 years (I was in a hit-and-run accident at ISU which totally crumpled up my bike!  That's another story for another day...), I really wanted to get one this year.  I mean, the kids have their own bikes, a friend gave Jared a bike.  I was the only one without one.  So, I went to my favorite outdoor store, REI, and did some research and tested out some bikes (with short stubby legs, I was resigned to the kiddie bikes.  But there are custom bikes out there for women with shorter legs).  So, this Spring, I was beside myself to bring home a brand new Navaro Fiona!  We've just had a ton of fun biking together as a family this summer!  I'd love to take my family on the Prairie Path this Fall for more biking fun!

My new bike!

 

We typically ride our bikes after dinner time

 

#11. Do something I've never done before...go on a cruise!

Jared and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary this year.  We wanted to go somewhere memorable, do something that we've never done before.  We both have never been on a cruise.  So, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to do just that.  It seemed a romantic way to celebrate our anniversary!  So, we decided to go on a 6-day cruise to the Bahamas!

At Jacksonville airport, waiting for the bus to take us to the pier.

 

Our Carnival cruise-liner.  Holy cow, it's huge!

 

Walking around and checking out the ship.  I believe this is on the upper deck.

The inside of the ship...it's like a mini city!

Looking down from the upper deck into the "main" lobby area.

 

I was a little nervous at first, because I'm very prone to motion sickness.  The first day was rough.  I thought sitting outside on the balcony with some fresh air would make my stomach stop doing flip-flops.  But it was worse.  I just needed to go inside and lie down.  Day 2 and beyond, things got a lot better.  At times, I could feel the rocking of the ship, but it wasn't bad.  It was actually quite soothing as we took naps or went to bed. 

I was pleasantly surprised by our room.  I think it helps being small, because to everyone else, it may seem a little cramped.  But the fact that we had a king-sized bed in there, it was roomy enough for me!  We were able to order room service 24/7, and really, the food was great!  I think the sushi bar and the round-the-clock availability of ice-cream made the trip worth while! 

Our room with a king-sized bed!  And our window with a view!

 

Apart from the food, we loved the on-board entertainment.  The nightly staged shows were of professional quality, and we enjoyed the comedians (when their jokes were clean) and particularly enjoyed the trivia quizzes (we're such competitive people!). 

Me and my handsome husband during formal night before dinner.

The downside of the cruise was that there were a lot of teenagers.  The drinking age in the Bahamas is 18.  Need I say more?  Fortunately, Jared and I were able to find a pleasant spot on the upper decks to sit out in the sun, read, tan, sip cocktails, and enjoy some peace and tranquility!

My view on most days as I laid out in the sun!

 

Our first stop was to the private island of Half Moon Cay.  We had to take a ferry from the ship to the island (you can see the ferry on the right).  I love the crystal blue waters!

We really enjoyed our first cruise.  However, I think we'd take the all-inclusive resorts over the cruise any day!  It was a good experience though!

Having some cocktails at the Piano Bar on the last night of our cruise.

#12. Do something exotic...swim with the dolphins!

Again, on our cruise, I was able to check this next thing on my list off!  Everyone has a different definition of the word "exotic".  I guess I equate it to something that is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, or something that I wouldn't get to do very often.  Living in Australia, I did get to swim with the dolphins, but I never got close enough to touching them, let alone hugging one or dancing with one!  So, it was a no-brainer when an excursion on the cruise presented itself to us.  We signed up for our "Dolphin Encounter" in Nassau!  And by far, it was both Jared and my favorite thing about our cruise.  (and just an fyi...dolphins are my favorite animal/mammal!)

 

So happy!!