You may remember that some of my favorite people in the world committed to adopt Julianna from the Ukraine several months ago.  In the months since she snagged a chunk of their hearts, God has worked miracles to bring her closer to legally being their daughter.  One big gift was to bring Julianna into their home for three weeks in July as part of a host program.  The experience was wonderful for all of them.  Within the first day there was absolutely no doubt that this precious fifteen year old girl who was born half way around the world, was destined to be a member of a family in Dallas, Texas.

I’ve come to accept that, although we can’t always understand it, sometimes miracles mean that we have to swallow a little bitter with the sweet.  The miracle of Julianna coming to America in July and having three amazing weeks to bond with her family came with the bitter pill of telling her, “goodbye” as they put her on a plane back to the Ukraine without an exact date of when they will see her again.   That was a hard day.

Julianna is now the daughter of Lisa and Jon in all but the legal sense of the word.  They are now preparing to travel to the Ukraine and bring her home before her sixteenth birthday.  In this final push to raise the money necessary, Lisa has started a Sweet Sixteen drive.  If you feel led to contribute to their adoption, they are asking for $16 donations. It’s easy to contribute…. just click here –> julianna

And… even if you can’t help bring her home financially, please support their journey prayerfully.  Each member of the family, to include Julianna, has a hurting heart right now that is longing to have them all under one roof again.

I’m going there.

We’re in a wrestling match, people.

Ephesians 6:12 “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”

Lately there is only one word that can be used to describe life around my house. Hard.  Okay, maybe there’s more than one word.  If you look up hard or difficult or challenging in a thesaurus you could probably find many words that are appropriate for our recent living conditions.

On Friday July 22nd I got a phone call from a doctor in Leadville, CO.  Chase was in a hospital there because he had been vomiting for ten straight days and had intense stomach pain. They were taking him off of all foods for twenty-four hours and would then decide if he was able to proceed with his Outward Bound course.  They actually waited until Sunday morning to make the final decision, but he was sent home a week early from his three week course.  Although he was able to summit Mt. Elbert and complete the two and a half day solo trek, he has been extremely disappointed with himself because he could not complete the course.  Let me tell you something.  A fourteen year old boy has a pretty tough time when his self-confidence is being challenged.  And… a mama has a hard time sitting on the sidelines and watching.

That same Friday we put an offer on a house.  It was rejected.  As was our second offer on the same house.  We just could not dig any deeper into our savings and making a third offer, so we gave up.  With five weeks left until we’re homeless, our senses of security and stability are being challenged.

On Saturday the 23rd, my husband began complaining about a headache, then body-aches, then a fever and chills.  Throughout the night on Saturday and Sunday I felt like I was sleeping next to someone going through DT’s (delirium tremens~look it up).  He tried to get an appointment with his primary care doctor on Monday.  He succeeded on Tuesday and after nearly passing out at the pharmacy and then again at the lab, he was sent to the emergency room.  They did a ct scan on his brain (I guess they were looking for a tumor).  They did a chest x-ray (just in case he had pneumonia).  They did an ekg (might as well check his heart while they had him).  They then declared that he just had a virus and sent him home.  My husband’s health and well-being have been challenged.  Our faith in modern medicine…. Well, I guess you could say we now fully understand why it’s called “medical PRACTICE”.

After another twenty-four hours with high fever, uncontrollable chills and being quite certain that there was absolutely nothing left in his digestive tract, he was once again on the verge of passing out.  Chase had remained in Colorado with his grandparents and I had driven out to Dulles to pick him up with our other three children.  Chad called a friend to take him back to the ER.  Just after we returned from the airport, our friends pulled up to take Chad to the hospital.  At that moment I witnessed the church ‘being the church’.  A man with his hand wrapped up ran to my front door, put his arm (without the wrapped hand), around my husband who could barely stand, and helped him get to the backseat of their car.  The wife ran over to me, gave me a hug, and explained that they were walking out the door to go to the hospital when Chad called.  Our friend had been doing construction at our church and put a drill all the way through his thumb.  Our local church is being challenged.

I got the kids to bed, had a friend come over and sleep on the couch, and went to sit by husband’s side.  They did another ct scan (this time on his abdomen).  Around 3am, a group of doctors came in the room.  One was wearing a big badge that said “class of 2012”.  They announced that he was being admitted, but they were waiting on a surgical consult to see if he needed to be moved to a hospital with an ICU or be put on the surgical floor “just in case they had to explore the small bowel obstruction seen on the ct scan”.  I had flashbacks to sitting in a doctor’s office with my grandfather before I was old enough to drive and hearing the words “small bowel obstruction” immediately followed by the words “colon cancer”.  Sweat.  Tears.  Panic.

The sweat, tears and panic hit in the wee hours of Thursday morning.  At that point I calculated that I had slept for less than twenty hours total in the six days and nights since I received the call from the doctor in Leadville.  It is quite the understatement to say that my rest has been challenged.

They admitted Chad on the surgical floor, but decided that the “sbo” was not a significant issue. (Huh?)  They then reverted to the virus theory which led to a spinal tap.  It was at this point in the day, that my sleep-deprived self walked through the door of his un-air-conditioned (yes, you read that right) hospital room and began praying OUT LOUD over the group of people who were “practicing” on my husband.  They asked me to pull up a chair and watch (really?).  Three doctors (two of whom proudly sported their “class of 2012” and “class of 2013” badges) spent an hour taking turns digging around in my husband’s spine in an attempt to find his fluid sack.  At some point they decided that they needed to find a new kit and start over.  A nurse left and returned with a kit that had been busted open and said, “It’s been slit a few times, but I think it’s sterile enough to use.”  At that point I stood up, walked over to the kit and put my hand on top of it.  The doctors froze, looked at me and opted against the new kit.  I stood there praying for God to please guide their hands and for them to find the dang fluid sack before Chad passed out (His sweat was dripping from his forehead to the floor and his breathing had become very labored.)  At that moment they found it.  There were a few more moments during the collection process that made me want to hurt somebody, but I refrained and my husband survived. Three hours later, one of the doctors came back and informed us that it would be 2-4 weeks before we got the test results.  Evidently there have been several cases of viral meningitis and west nile virus in our area in the last few weeks. My husband’s symptom led them to believe that it could be one of the “big boy” viral infections. I’ll refrain from writing the many ugly thoughts that went through my head for the remainder of the afternoon, but my prayers went from wanting answers about my husband to hoping that he survived the “medical practice’ being performed on him.  My joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness and self-control….. all being challenged.

1 John 4:4 “But you belong to God, my dear children. You have already won a victory over those people, because the Spirit who lives in you is greater than the spirit who lives in the world.”

Yes.  We’re in a wrestling match.  But it’s already been won.  All the fruits of the spirit (love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness & self-control) are ours.  Security and stability are ours too.  God promised that He would provide for ALL of our needs

It took two more days for Chad’s fever to break, but he is now home and slowly recovering from “some viral infection”.  Chase had blood work done on Friday and we’re still waiting to see what’s going on with his belly.  Early Friday morning, my baby brother and his wife added some much needed estrogen to this family with the birth of a healthy beautiful baby girl named Reagan Kate.  On Saturday a house came on the market and it looks like God may have just opened the door on the house of our dreams.  Today a buyer called about our house in Georgia and within an hour a family called that would like to rent it if the buyer doesn’t make an offer tomorrow.

Sit down and roll up your sleeves.  You don’t have to rely on your biceps (or in my case lack-thereof) to win the wrestling match that we’re all engaged in.  You have a much better choice.  You can fight it fully cloaked in body armor.

Ephesians 6:10-17 A final word: Be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.  Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand firm against all strategies of the devil. For weare not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places.

Therefore, put on every piece of God’s armor so you will be able to resist the enemy in the time of evil. Then after the battle you will still be standing firm.  Stand your ground, putting on the belt of truth and the body armor of God’s righteousness.  For shoes, put on the peace that comes from the Good News so that you will be fully prepared. In addition to all of these, hold up the shield of faith to stop the fiery arrows of the devil. Put on salvation as your helmet, and take the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

Matthew 7:8 “For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.”

For the past two months, in our search for a home, I have parked Stan the Van in front of four or five houses in our zip code and said, “God I would like to rent this house.  If it’s in your will, please make it available on (or before) Sept 1st for x amount.”  Because we have a house in Georgia that is currently sitting empty we have been hesitant to even look into purchasing a home here.

Actually, the whole truth is that I’ve been living in fear.  After two years of leading Financial Peace University and walking through the steps to financial freedom and building up a nice savings, I was still living in the emotional bondage that comes along with a lifetime of debt.  Chad has asked me numerous times to contact my mortgage guy and numerous times I’ve given him all the reasons that we couldn’t possibly get another mortgage when we still own the house in Georgia.  I grew up with a single Mom who worked her tail off to put food on the table.  The lessons of perseverance, making the most out of what you have, and the work ethic that came from that upbringing are priceless.  The emotional scars that came from utilities occasionally being shut off and never answering the phone because “there might be a debt collector behind that ring” are not quite as valuable.  It’s really kind of crazy that I’ve held on to the emotional bondage that comes from debt and an impoverished mentality.  But hey, I’ve never denied the fact that I’m at least a tad bit crazy.

About a week ago God showed me something about living my life like Abraham.  Abraham was fearless.  When God asked him to do some pretty scary things, he said, “Yes, Sir.”  He lived a comfortable live in an ungodly place and when God told him to leave that place (Ur), he was willing to go and live in tents in order to live in God’s favor.  That’s the life I want.  I would rather live in a tent and swim in the favor of God than live in a mansion that was nothing to do with God’s will and everything to do with my own.

Isaiah 41:10 “fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

So… in all the months that my lovely hubby was asking me to see what type of mortgage we qualified for, I acted out of fear.  My mind grasps that fear displaces faith, but that big ball of fear in my gut had no desire to leave.  After reading about Abraham’s heart for pleasing God, I spent about 24 hours figuring out what was stopping me from looking into buying here.  At the end of that 24 hours, I expanded my home search from local rentals to sales.  Just as dear hubby messaged me that he was almost home and that he wanted to eat out for dinner, I saw two houses on the same street that had been reduced that day.  I made a mental note of the street, got everybody ready to leave and asked if we could stop and see a house on our way to the restaurant.  We pulled into the driveway of the first house with a ‘for sale’ sign on the noted street, walked thru the front door, and entered 1960.  24 hours after that, God used a mortgage broker to show me what happens when you let go of fear.  We’re actually in excellent financial shape (thank you, Dave Ramsey).

Confession time.  Even though we’ve led FPU for two years and we know that we should pull our credit report every year, I haven’t looked at ours in at least three years.  If I’m going to be totally honest, I’m glad I haven’t looked at it.  You see, in that time we’ve paid off tens of thousands of dollars in debt and put ourselves in a pretty good position for buying a new home.

But you know what?  The day after I got a mortgage approval letter and began drafting our offer for the house, one of those rentals I sat in front of several times in the last two months, came on the market.  And…It’s available Sept. 1st.  And… It’s listed for exactly x amount.  And the next day, another of those houses came on the market.  You guessed it.  It’s also listed for exactly x amount and it’s available August 15th.

Don’t get me wrong.  I would love to have the house that takes you back to 1960 and to have the opportunity to make it exactly what we envision it could be.  But, I’ve learned something big this week.  It’s not about the house.  It’s about walking in God’s favor.  And it’s pretty hard to walk in God’s favor when your fears or emotional hangups are displacing your faith.

Hebrews 11:7-11 NIV “By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going.  By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise.  For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.  And by faith even Sarah, who was past childbearing age, was enabled to bear children because she considered him faithful who had made the promise.”

I don’t want to live in that house or in either of the rentals that I’ve asked God for, if they are going to take me out of HIS will and into my own.  I want to live like Abraham and Sarah.  Guess it’s a good thing I’m fond of camping 😉

There are sometimes events in life that come along and leave me overflowing with conflicted emotions.  Tomorrow is the onset of such an event.  My fourteen year old son (Chase) is leaving for Outward Bound.  For twenty-one days we will have absolutely zero contact with him.  Since the day he was born there have never been more than forty-eight hours where I did not at least speak with him.  My trip to Serbia in May was the first time I have ever spent more than three days away from my children.

Today, my husband cleaned out his backpack and in the process pulled out a picture of Chase when he was only about three years old.  He laid it on the table in front of me and the waterworks began.  I sat at my kitchen table with that picture in my hand looking like a blubbering fool.  What happened?  Where did the time go?  How did the smiliest toddler boy who ever existed, turn into a teenager who argues with his parents and has a hairy upper lip?

My emotions for the last twenty-four hours have ranged from sadness to pride to excitement over his adventure to anger over a whole list of things.  It’s that last emotion that’s been kicking my butt.  I have found fault with everyone in the house.  In retrospect I’m sure it’s just been an attempt to hide how horribly sad I am over the fact that Chase will be gone for so long, but that doesn’t make my outbursts at all the people who share my house excusable.  Of course, the fact that I can’t find a single clutter-free spot in the house in which to have a little solitude should excuse just about any yelling I’ve done.  Am I alone in this boat?  It’s summer-time.  The kids are home.  The hubby is on leave this week.  I have left twice to go pick up last minute items for Chase’s trip and I’ve returned each time to find nothing cleaned up and everyone sitting in a comfy spot engaged with electronics.  Grrrrrrr (that’s my blog rendition of a growl).

So tonight, after everyone was safely tucked in bed (Safe from Mama’s angry outbursts.), I sat down to sort through email.  There was a newsletter from the youth group at our church in my inbox, and in that message was a link to an article.  It’s G.O.O.D. Check it out.  perfect-parents

Tomorrow I will put my boy on a plane and cry over the conflicted expectations I have for him over the next three weeks.  I’m excited for all the possibilities he will have for maturing and experiencing adventure and I’m hoping that he doesn’t grow up so much that he has no resemblance left of the smiley little boy in the picture.

John 14:18 “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you.”

Out of the countless promises made to us in the Bible, this one has probably had the greatest impact on me over the past two years.  I was given an up-close personal view of what it means to be an orphan.  The clearer that view became, the more I saw myself as an orphan.  I’d like to say, “It’s kinda funny how it happened”, but the truth is that it’s kinda sad.  The time I have spent observing Sofija and making correlations between her behaviors and her life as an orphan have pointed out my own coping and relationship skills that have resulted from the segments of my life where I chose to not recognize who my Father was.  For more on that segment of my journey…. https://bringinganahome.wordpress.com/2010/06/11/legitimate-4/

Just like every other answered promise, God delivers on this one.  I’m sitting here looking at my own little former orphan sleeping on the couch next to her Daddy (Tata).  Throughout my life I’ve witnessed God deliver on this promise time and time again.  Tomorrow, He gets to show off his faithfulness once again.

You see….tomorrow is the day that my lifelong best friend will meet her daughter.  I sit on the couch (opposite the one holding my hubby and baby girl) torn between laughter and tears.  Lisa has waited a very long time for what tomorrow will bring.  It took me a little longer to grasp that holding on to my own visions prevented God from showing me His, than it took Lisa.  Since middle school I have watched in awe as she conformed to God’s plan for her life.  It has not been an easy journey, but she has walked it out with amazing grace. God’s vision for how she would receive her daughter was definitely not a vision that she, or anyone who knows her, could foresee.  And yet, it now makes total sense.  Hardship after tragedy after pain have laid a path to tomorrow.  Every difficult moment was a seed being planted to prepare a mother’s heart for loving a fifteen year old girl who lost her biological mother several years ago.

Still torn between laughter and tears, I will crawl in bed tonight and pray for sleep for the mother and child who have walked a blessed and broken road to find one another.

Welcome home, Julianna.  We’ve been waiting for you.

Matthew 7:7 “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.”

There’s an old saying that pretty much sums up our housing situation.  When it rains, it pours.  “We” had a great plan.  Our tenants would be in the rental house we own in Georgia until the summer of 2013.  The lease on the house we are currently renting in Virginia ends at the end of August.  Our landlords gave us a written statement that says we can end our lease with a thirty day notice when we kept demanding that they actually make the house livable.  Being a realtor, I am constantly scouring the housing market and several months ago I learned of a great house that had not yet been listed and that would perfectly meet the needs of our family.  It has a ton of unfinished square footage that would allow us to customize it and make it the home of our dreams without having to add on.  Our four children attend four different schools and the house is in an area that would not force any of them to change schools (a big deal for military brats who’ve attended more schools than I care to count).  The owner is looking to sell and move in the late summer.  Our plan was to close on the house six to eight weeks before the lease was up on this house and have renovations done before we moved in.  And then it rained…

I bumped into our landlord at the grocery store.  He said that they were going to either sell the house that they are currently living in or the one that we are living in.  Later that week we got a certified letter stating that they would not offer us the option to extend our lease when it ends on August 31st.  Just before spring break he called my dear husband and offered to pay us to end our lease and vacate the house by the end of June.  At that point we were still hanging on to the hope that we would buy the great house and we came up with an equally great idea to put all of our belongings in storage, rent a summer house on the Chesapeake Bay, and have a summer of family time on the water while we were waiting to occupy our new home.  And then it poured…

During spring break we learned that our tenants in Georgia received military orders that would have them moving by the end of May. Even if we were able to get a mortgage to purchase the new house, we knew that we would not be comfortable taking on a new mortgage while carrying a mortgage a house that is sitting empty.  And, we can’t commit our savings to a new house when we might need it to keep the bank from taking the one we already own.  The last time the house was empty it took us seven months to find renters.  We drained our savings and put a mortgage payment and utility payments on a credit card before those seven months were up.  That was the motivator behind our passion for Financial Peace University (see sidebar).

So…I checked my What would Dave Ramsey say? app and confirmed that we should probably wave off on buying right now.  I switched my house-hunting focus to the rental market.  Ummm….it’s pretty bleak.  Add the fact that there is not a single rental in our area that will accommodate a family of six with two dogs and that, despite countless hours of searching, I have not been able to locate a single summer rental that is available for more than a week, and you get a fairly stressed out mama/wife/realtor/renter.

I have repeatedly prayed, asking God to show us what His will is in this situation.  Both of us have heard one word when we pray over the situation….”Wait.”  Uh, yeah, God.  I think that’s what we’ve been doing.  It would be really nice if you would tell us or show us what we’re waiting for.  Just sayin’.

We obviously suck at taking our housing situation into our own hands and I’m at a point where I have to believe that His plans are greater than our own.  With the knowledge that stress is simply the absence of faith, and with total exhaustion from the tension headache that kept me from sleeping for nights on end, I gave up.

Matthew 6:31-34 “Don’t worry and ask yourselves, “Will we have anything to eat? Will we have anything to drink? Will we have any clothes to wear? (Or a place to live?)” Only people who don’t know God are always worrying about such things. Your Father in heaven knows that you need all of these. But more than anything else, put God’s work first and do what he wants. Then the other things will be yours as well. Don’t worry about tomorrow. It will take care of itself. You have enough to worry about today.”

Last Thursday we sent our landlords a note saying that we just have to wait.  Our lease is not up until the end of August and unless God screams very loudly between now and then that we have to move, we will remain here through the end of our lease.  We haven’t heard from them, but I’m quite certain they aren’t happy with our announcement.  Our house in Georgia is still empty.  After two months, no buyers have even looked at it.  Our realtor held an open house on June 5th and to our delight, the air conditioning decided to go out that day.  On Father’s Day, a tree fell in the front yard.  The Department of Defense has this great program for military families who are forced to move and are upside-down on their mortgages.  We don’t qualify.  Still no rentals in our area that we can fit in.  Still no summer rentals with more than a week’s availability.  So we wait.

And…we claim the promise that Paul made to the church at Philippi in Philippians 4:19 “My God will meet ALL  your needs (I’m counting on housing being included in that ‘all’). He will meet them in keeping with his wonderful riches that come to you because you belong to Christ Jesus.”

BTW… If you know anyone looking for a 4bed 3ba house in Columbus, GA please send them my way.

When I was fighting cancer I began planning for my fortieth birthday.  I’ve always wanted to climb a mountain and thanks to Pippi Longstocking the mountain I set my mind on is Kilimanjaro. When you’re lying in bed and feeling like life couldn’t get much lower, there’s something quite cathartic about planning to make your way to the top of a mountain, stand with braided pigtails, and belt out, “Standing on top of Mount Kilimanjaro, watching the sun rise, the wind in my hair.” So that was my plan.  I had exactly four years to grow my hair long enough for braided pigtails.  And…I couldn’t die at thirty-six if I had a mountain to climb at forty.

I thought about my mountain climb to the point that I began to vividly dream of being there.  In my dreams I had a team of people with me.  Some I knew and some I did not (but in my dreams they were always very familiar to me).  By the time I turned thirty-nine the identities of the unknown people in my dreams began being revealed to me.  They were all women who would celebrate a decade birthday this year.  Some turning thirty.  Some turning forty.  Some turning fifty.  It was no longer just my dream.

Deuteronomy 1:3,6,8 “But forty years after the Israelites left Egypt, on the first day of the eleventh month, Moses addressed the people of Israel, telling them everything the Lord had commanded him to say…When we were at Mount Sinai, the Lord our God said to us, ‘You have stayed at this mountain long enough…Look, I am giving all this land to you! Go in and occupy it, for it is the land the Lord swore to give to your ancestors Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and to all their descendants.’

If you read all of Deuteronomy 1 you find that the forty years the Israelites had spent on that mountain was a piece of a journey that should have only taken them eleven days. 2 “Normally it takes only eleven days to travel from Mount Sinai to Kadesh-barnea, going by way of Mount Seir.” Hmph.  Guess they were just about as hard-headed as yours truly.  I’ve stated more than once that I never again want to spend forty years making any journey that should only take eleven days.  If God has created a clear path from point A to point B I really want to be on that path.  With that in mind, as the months leading up to my fortieth birthday began to dwindle away it became evident that I would not be climbing a mountain for this birthday.  At least not Mount Kilimanjaro.  Going back to Serbia became not only my focus, but the very clear path that I was supposed to be on.  As exciting it was to watch God provide for every single detail of my Serbia trip I have to confess that in the weeks before I traveled I experienced some disappointment.  I knew that there was absolutely no way I would be traveling to Africa in June after traveling to Europe in May.  I would not stand on top of my mountain on (or even near) my fortieth birthday with braided pigtails.  I would not pause on the side of that mountain and marvel at the beauty of Tanzania or try to spot every Acacia tree in view and marvel at the fact that my name comes from the word acacia.  Acacia wood is very strong and it just happens to be the wood used to build the ark of the covenant. Acacia trees are also thorny and can cause some serious harm to living creatures that get too close, but I had no plans to look for significance in that area on my day of reflection.  I would not begin my descent with a reading of Deuteronomy 1 and my declaration that I “had been on that mountain long enough.”  And then something very unexpected happened….

On my first Sunday in Serbia I sat with my new friend Anne and marveled at how I could feel so familiar with someone I had just met.  We knew very little about each other before that day, but she summed up our first day together in a short email….. “Well, I have to say that I feel as if I’ve known you for a long time and today was just a good ‘catch up’….which is a lovely blessing from the Lord…. ” The next day I sat having a conversation with my lifelong friend Lisa, Anne and our hotel manager Richard.  Richard has managed hotels all over the world and Lisa asked him about his favorite hotel.  At some point in his reply he mentioned a hotel in Tanzania. Lisa and I laughed.  After Anne asked about the laughing and I told her about my plan, she informed me that she had lived in Tanzania for several years.  The day after that I discovered that one of the other gifts to our team (Granny Annie ;)) had also lived in Tanzania.  At some point before I returned home Anne reassured me that I was not supposed to climb Kilimanjaro this June because I needed to go to Serbia first and make all of the divine connections there before I travel to Tanzania.

This past Wednesday, on June 15th 2011, I turned forty.  The only mountain I climbed was made of laundry.  Matthew 17:20 “You don’t have enough faith,” Jesus told them. “I tell you the truth, if you had faith even as small as a mustard seed, you could say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it would move. Nothing would be impossible.”  With this verse in mind, I looked at that mountain of laundry, walked to my laptop, and announced on Facebook that I would welcome anyone who wanted bless me on my birthday by making that mountain move.  Guess what?  By the end of the day it was gone 🙂

Some say that I’ve crossed the proverbial hill.  That June 15, 2011 was the half way mark, or the pinnacle, of my life.  As I went through that day surrounded by friends and family and reflecting on just how amazingly and richly blessed my life has been thus far, I came to a realization.  I haven’t crossed a hill.  I’ve climbed a mountain.  Maybe the dream to climb Kilimanjaro was necessary for me to realize the significance of the journey the Israelites took to get to the promised land.  That journey was broken up into forty-year segments.  Throughout the Bible the number forty signifies the end of a probation or test period.  Wanna know something really cool about what comes after the number forty in the Bible?  It is always followed by a fulfilled promise or a period of revival and renewal.  How exciting is that!?!

The Israelites were hard-headed and rebellious for the forty years they spent on the side of Mount Seir.  All I can say about that is that I wish I didn’t relate so well.  The first forty years of my life have been filled with more trials and tests than I could possibly recollect or document.  In the years since the onset of my Kilimanjaro dreams, I’ve come to see how so many of those trials were absolutely necessary in order for me to embrace the life God planned for me.  Would the Israelites have appreciated or even cared to occupy the promised land if it weren’t for all the trials and tests they endured to get there?

So….instead of looking for acacia trees in the Serengeti, I spent this week looking at the strong little people God has allowed me to parent.  Instead of trying to catch my breath as the air thinned out on my ascent, I have spent the last few days taking very deep breaths and enjoying a little down-time.  Instead of braiding pigtails, I stood in front of a mirror and smiled as I confirmed that I still do not have a single gray hair. (In Tanzanian fashion, I’m quite certain that I resembled a chimpanzee searching for fleas in this process)  Instead of singing lyrics borrowed from an out-of-control-latchkey-kid, I’ve sung worship songs and lullabies to God and my baby girl.  And…instead of marveling at the beauty of a sunrise from the top of an African mountain, I watched the sun set over the Potomac River surrounded by people that I am blessed to walk through life with and marveled at how God’s love for me (and you) is truly immeasurable.

originally published May 31, 2011 at http://kacinpoint.com

About a week ago, the following entry found it’s way into my journal….

When HE asks you out on a date, He ALWAYS picks up the tab.

After seventeen and a half years of marriage, I can’t imagine what it would be like to date again.  To be honest, the very thought of dating has kept me married on more than one occasion.  Before my dear hubby stalked me and forced me into submission, I had a few monumental bad dates.  One time a guy asked me out that owned race horses.  He called and asked if I’d like to go to a very nice restaurant.  I didn’t know him well enough to tell him where I lived so I asked him to pick me up where I worked.  He showed up in a shiny new white corvette.  Conversation was awkward and I think we both knew pretty quickly that there wouldn’t be a second date.  When the check came he got up and went to the bathroom.  He went from the bathroom to the restaurant’s front door and waited for me to pay.  Nice move.  Then there was the guy that did get a second date.  And a third.  And four or five more after that.  Not one single time did this guy have a plan.  Every phone call was filled with questions directed at me.  “So…Do you want to pick me up or do you want me to pick you up?”  “What time do you want to go some where?”  “Do you know where you want to go?”  “Do you think we should go eat or see or movie or do something different?”  “What do you think I should wear?”  “Do you think my jeans make my butt look big?”  Okay.  It may have been a girlfriend and not the bad date asking the big butt question, but you get the idea.  I even once went on a date with a guy who had never bothered to tell me about the fact that he was recently divorced.  We were supposed to see a movie.  Instead, we spent several hours in the theater parking lot while I listened to him cry over his ex-wife and he asked me for advice on how to win her back.  Great date!

The doors that God opened on my trip to Serbia.  Those doors were just a small little piece of the “good date” puzzle.  He opened doors, pulled out my chair, paid the check, listened to what I had to say and made all the plans.  He took care of every single detail.  All I had to do was make myself pretty, follow Him out my front door and climb in His vehicle willing to go wherever He wanted to take me.

Today I had a realization.

Two weeks before I left for Serbia we embarked on a ten day vacation.  Just before we left for that vacation the owner of the house we’re living in informed us that they would not be renewing our lease.  They are moving back into the house and we must be out by the end of May.  While we were on our vacation I got an email from the tenants of a rental house we own in Georgia.  They unexpectedly got orders for North Carolina and they would be out of the house by the end of May.  I left for Serbia four days after returning from our vacation and the minute I returned from Serbia I began obsessing about where we would live and how we would carry two houses if the one in Georgia sits empty for a while.

Which takes me to today’s realization.  I’ve been a bad date.  Three years ago God moved our family to Washington, DC.  Last year He sent us to Serbia to adopt our daughter.  This year, he sent me back to Serbia and He has plans for me to return.

Deuteronomy 31:8 “It is the LORD who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not fail you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.”

Hebrews 13:5 “…..I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

The word forsake is a verb meaning…..to quit or leave entirely; to abandon; to refuse

In fifteen days I turn 40.  Forty.  F.O.R.T.Y.  Four times ten.  Five times eight.  Two times twenty.  Half of eighty.  That’s the date I want to be obsessing over.  My God will NOT forsake me.  He has opened doors for me that no man can close.  He has NEVER left us homeless.  We haven’t always had the home that we thought we would have, but we’ve always had a home.  I just have to trust that this time will be no different.  If you’re praying for our family I do have some specific requests.

A) Someone needs to live in our house in Georgia.  We don’t care if it’s new owners or new renters.  It just needs to be occupied. B) We need clarity about where we should live here.  Do we rent?  Do we buy?  Do we rent a summer house, store all of our goods and wait for permanent housing until the end of summer?  C) Our kids need to feel peace and security through these big transitions.  D)  Our kids’ parents need to set a good example by exhibiting peace and security through these big transitions.  E)  I need focus on writing and revisions and I need for my days to be free from distractions.  F)  I have a party to plan.  You don’t really have to pray for it, but I want it to be memorable.  After all, there is only one chance to celebrate being half of eighty 🙂

originally published May 19, 2011 at http://kacinpoint.com

I’m a huge fan of the couch potato to 5k running plan.  Such a huge fan that I’ve started it no less than a dozen times in the past three years.  I do enjoy the way that it allows you to slowly build up speed and endurance.  I’ve always been one of those people who steps on the treadmill before I hit the power button.  My pace increases with the speed of the belt which allows my body to slowly warm up to the idea that I am about to torture it for a few minutes.  (emphasis on few)  Can you see why me and the C25K program became quick friends?  The methodology I apply to running spills over into most things in my life.  I love to witness the beginning of a new thing and watch its momentum build.

While in Serbia I went to a gym with my dear friends (sisters) Lisa and Rachelle.  Rachelle has one of the deepest wells of natural athletic ability of any woman I know (So does her husband.  And yes, their children are beasts.).  Lisa is, without compare, the fittest forty year old I will likely ever know.  Seeing how I’ve been held back like a first grader who can’t read and repeated weeks one through four of the C25K program more times than I care to count, I had to muster up some serious guts to enter a gym with these two women.  Before you chastise me, I am fully aware of all the dangers of comparing my all to someone else’s all.  That being said, God does have a twisted sense of humor.  If you want proof of it, you don’t have to look at the fact that He created these two spaces in my life that can ONLY be filled by women that have reached fitness levels I only dare dream of.  Just google images of a duck-billed platypus. See. He has a twisted sense of humor.

As I prepared to leave the gym on the last day of our trip, Lisa was just getting on the treadmill.  It wasn’t until I was on the elevator that I began to process how she approached her run.  She stood on the sides, turned on the power, waited until the treadmill was moving at what I would consider a sprint speed, and jumped on in full running motion.  I’m pretty sure that a “Hmmph?” escaped my lips as I pondered the difference between her way of approaching the treadmill and my own.  That same morning, as I fought the urge to acknowledge the alarming noise that was filling our hotel room, Lisa bounced out of bed. I rolled over and watched in awe at how wide awake she was within seconds of the alarm.  I had a video montage playing in my head of the exact same scene.  The montage consisted of glimpses of mornings that followed late night giggles and tears.  There were many of those mornings for the two of us between the ages of 13 and 20.  No matter how late we stayed up, Lisa always hit the ground running.

In most conversations surrounding our trip to Serbia, I stated that “this is a foundational trip.”  To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure what that meant.  What I did know is that I kept hearing the words “foundational trip” and “foundational journey” when I prayed or meditated over our purpose.  Today I began processing exactly what those words meant.  Very quickly my thoughts went to the two very different approaches that Lisa and I have to approaching a treadmill.  It only took a few seconds for me to realize how important it is to have people who take both approaches when it comes to walking out God’s plans. This first trip (it is inevitable that many will follow) was indeed a foundation for a journey.  I LOVE witnessing the foundation of things and watching as those things pick up momentum.  Once those things pick up momentum, they will not succeed without people who are willing to jump on the treadmill at a sprinting speed.

Because I broke all the rules concerning comparison in my little treadmill thought journey, I felt the need to see what God’s view was on the matter.

1 Corinthians 9:24-25

Don’t you realize that in a race everyone runs, but only one person gets the prize? So run to win!  All athletes are disciplined in their training. They do it to win a prize that will fade away, but we do it for an eternal prize.
1 Timothy 4:7-8

Have nothing to do with godless myths and old wives’ tales; rather, train yourself to be godly.  For physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.

It just so happens that God really doesn’t care so much about how we approach life’s treadmill.  He just wants us to get on it, spiritually armed (saturated in The Word and covered in prayer), and focused on the goal.