Most Romantic Christmas Ever

I really thought that it could not get any better than Ranger's salvation on Christmas Eve Eve, but it did! Somehow, God is just that generous.

Christmas Eve was such a sweet day with family during the day, and then seeing my kids in their Christmas play that night was priceless. They all seemed so old, so capable, so grown. But for whatever reason, that was a joy to me. It seems like they just keep getting more and more enjoyable to me as they grow.

Christmas morning was wonderful. Of course, with the kids, it was great. We opened our gifts to and from each other before the rest of the family got there. The kids loved their gifts, and I was delighted at how they opened them. They were slow and deliberate, taking their time to watch each person, in turn. There were sweet thank yous and big hugs. It was just great.

But my favorite was my time with my husband. Of course, we enjoyed watching the kids open their gifts, and we had both gotten a few things for the kids to give us. But I think the best part was when we opened the big gift we had each gotten the other.

That fact alone was significant this year. As a rule, we have not done Christmas very well. Our anniversary is a week after, so we often wait to do anything big. And it is so easy to get caught up in the kids that we often kind of do each other's gifts as an afterthought to the kids. Not good, but this has been our reality for a while now.

We had decided months ago that we needed to change that this year. We wanted to really think about it and do a good job with Christmas presents this year.

Brian had me go first. I was very intrigued because he had been wanting me to shake the gift for the days it had been under the tree. I wouldn't do it! I wanted the surprise. And for him, I specifically did not want him to shake his!

It was a medium sized box, and when I finally held it and shook it, I could not imagine what was inside. It made a lot of noise! I opened an ugly box (that actually was the shipping box for a car part!) and poured out a box of screws and another box of nails. The only clue he had given me was that it would mark a paradigm shift for us. I didn't know if he wanted me to hang shelves or what! I was delightfully confused as he sat there snickering, enjoying every moment!

There was a manila envelope inside, and even as I opened it, I still did not have a clue! What I found was a beautiful invitation to (drum roll please) ... Ballroom dance lessons!!! Once a month for a year, we are going to learn to waltz, tango, cha cha, even hustle! He had already arranged the child care, which he ensured would not cost us our regular weekly Saturday night date. I was overwhelmed and began to cry.

There's a back story here. He gave me the same gift long ago, for my birthday, right before we had Sierra. Actually, I was pregnant with her when he gave me the lessons, but we would find that joy out about a week later. That was 11 1/2 years ago, and after all the babies, we just never have found the time to go back and do it. We love to dance whenever we have the chance, and we fake it ok. But we have always said that one day, we would reclaim that dream and learn for real.

After I opened the gift, Brian said that now is the time for reclaiming. He said that as the kids are getting older, he is aware that there will come a time when it will just be us again, and while that will be a sad time in some ways, he also wants to look forward to it. He said he does not want us to look at each other and wonder who we are, but to securely know the depth of our love and passion for each other enough that we can even look forward to that time of being alone again. We will miss the kids, but we can revel in the togetherness.

That is what the dance lessons are: an investment of time and energy into us. It is who we are and who we want to be many years from now. My beloved promised me that it is just the beginning of what we will commit ourselves to over the second dozen or so years as we keep on raising our kids.

Of course, I cried and cried. I was so touched by his mode of thinking and his thoughtfulness. Truthfully, I was also shocked again by the fact that this dreamboat wants to be with me. I know that sounds cheesey, but there are still times that I do not know how it happened. I married out of my league. He is a prince.

And I suppose I should say that he also loved his gift. I love figuring out what he wants and giving that to him. I play quite the elf at Christmas time and instruct family on what to get everyone, including Brian. But I saved the best for myself to give him.

Like our relationship, he has been in a place of personal reclaiming. He has rediscovered his love of art, expression, and music. These are more places that have just kind of been on hold for a while as we are so busy for our family. But I wanted to affirm that place in him, so I got him music.

He got his turn to open his box, and I could hear the air being sucked from his lungs when he realized what it was. About 15 cd's, a whole new collection. I hope that since most of it is new to him, he will be inspired, not just to enjoy it but to create again. He used to write great music. He even wrote the processional and recessional to our wedding. He is so talented, and I wanted him to feel encouraged and equipped to regather those important pieces of his heart. He was delighted!

So I think we walk away from this Christmas with great joy, feeling very seen and loved by each other. What a sweet gift, and it is made that much better since our children were able to witness the whole exchange.

We head into our anniversary this weekend full of energy and love and romance. Only God could do that, especially after such a hard year. But I am just very thankful. Happy 17th a few days early, Love. Happy Anniversary!

Fresh Fruit

We took Ranger out tonight to get his first real Bible, a Bible that is not stories but the actual text. This is important to us, and it is a ceremonial event.

Within the first few moments in the car, we saw fruit on Ranger. He wanted to read one of the two books that the twins were reading. The kicker was that one of the books was actually his. He wanted a turn, and his modus operandi is to complain or cry until he gets what we wants. But tonight, when he was told that he'd need to wait, he just said, "I need to obey, Daddy." We looked at each other with the "this is new" expression and were delighted. God is showing Himself in our son's ability to control himself, even just for that moment. Incredible.

Then we went to the bookstore, and he chose a Bible. His has a sword on it, which is just like him. He is fierce, and it is appropriate for him to have chosen something that so accurately reflects his personality. We sat for a while and let them look around. He saw a play set that had Jesus and the tomb. He said, "It's empty -- Jesus isn't in there." That was sweet, and again, another confirmation of his knowledge of the things of God. Sweet.

We had to celebrate, and of course we had to go and get man food: burgers. Rush's. Brian asked for someone to pray, and Ranger quickly wanted to pray. That is new. It was just so sweet to see him different, already different. I know that there will be moments of sin and selfishness, just like we all have after many years of walking with Jesus, but it encouraging to see that there is proof of his redemption.

And finally, on the way home, before he fell asleep during the last few miles, he asked to be read to from his very own Bible. Brian read the Christmas story. That was just so sweet, him (and the others as well) wanting to hear truth, from their own swords. Summit and Venture had brought their Bibles along as well, and they each wanted something read from their very own Bible. Just so sweet.

So I am rejoicing this Christmas Eve Eve. The day only got better and better as our hearts adjusted to the precious truth that now all of our children are born again. Hallelujah!

The Happiest Christmas Eve Eve Ever!

Ok, I'm serving from the hip, right? I really got going on this blog thing yesterday with 3 entries and a sure sense of vision for what I wanted it to be. I realized that it's kind of a journal entry for all the world to see. A bit scary, but still, I will be judicious about all that is shared. That's how everyone does it, right?

Anyway, the whole idea of serving from the hip kept running around in my head yesterday. I know that I need to serve from the safety and presence of my Abba's hip, secure like a toddler being held. I also know that I need to be honest about how it's hard at times, hard to keep serving. I just want a real view. Good and hard.

Well, today was good. No, that's not it. Not even close. Today is just fantastic, the best Christmas Eve Eve ever!

Today is a culmination of a dream!!! My Ranger, my youngest little son, has had an eventful day. He sought and gained true repentance this day. Today is the day of his salvation!

All of the other kids, Sierra, Serenity, Summit, and Venture all understood their need for salvation when they were 4 years old. We have been praying for Ranger. I want him to remember nothing except always loving Jesus, and truth be told, I like symmetry! I loved the idea of them all being 4 years old!

When Ranger turned 4 a few months ago, my heart became quite overwhelmed with prayer for him. I started many conversations, along the path, rising up, going down (Duet 6), just all the time. I wanted to be sure that he had all that I could give him. It just feels so important to make sure that they all understand the path of salvation.

He has had a base understanding for a long time, but when I would ask him if he wanted to pray, he would tell me something kind of random, like he likes dinosaurs or something. Just not ready. But we kept plugging away. Just a few days ago, one of his dinosaurs ripped, and I tried to use it to teach him about how Jesus fixes us in ways no one else can fix. He's heard, but he has not been ready.

This morning, we did our annual birthday cake for Jesus. The kids love to decorate it, and it is a tradition we really enjoy. We did a chocolate cake, and I talked to the kids about their sin, how it is like a black heart. That it is dark and we need help to make it clean. But then, I told them that we were going to ice it with white icing because Jesus washes us clean, like white snow. I told Ranger that I hoped that one day he would pray and ask Jesus to forgive him for his sin. Serenity asked him if he wanted to pray right then, and he said, "YES!"

I asked him to hold on just one second so that I could run and get the camera! I wanted to preserve this holy moment, for me and for Brian, so that we could all remember the beauty of watching a child be born again!

So, camera at the ready, he began to pray. And with the conviction of the simple understanding, all that is required, he asked Jesus to forgive him for all the bad stuff he's done and thanked Him for the cross. That was it. And I believe that was the moment of his salvation.

I called Brian, who was so overwhelmed as he explained to me that just last night and this morning, he was begging God for the salvation of Ranger and also for some fruit in serving. Coming from that place where it gets hard at times, and we just need some encouragement, Brian asked God for some fruit. Some sign that we were doing what we should be doing. Little did he know how quickly and beautifully that prayer would be answered.

When my other children prayed for forgiveness from sin and received the cross for themselves, I never fed them words. I didn't with Ranger either. I wanted the words to be his, and they were. Still every other time, my mind has quickly raced trying to make sure that it was real and begging God for confirmation. And every time, I have felt rebuked after about the 4th question, "Is this real?!" I have felt Him say to my spirit, "Do not hinder the little children to come unto Me."

This time, I got the message quicker. And it only took me the 5th child to hear! I knew that he knew. I want a full dissertation on propitiation and sanctification and justification and all the other theology that comes with the package. But what I have come to realize is that all those big words are tied up in the simple prayer of a child, "I'm sorry. Thank you." That's it. That's all there is, and that's all it takes.

So we celebrated this day. We finished the cake and talked about the white icing covering the black cake, like Jesus covers our sins. Ranger reminded us of what he had prayed this morning, and when we talked again about how Jesus makes our dark, sinful hearts white as snow, Venture said, "It snowed in my heart."

Precious. Just precious.

Tonight, we will go and buy Ranger his own Bible, with great fanfare and rejoicing. He needs to have some idea of what the angels did when all of Heaven stopped to hear his humble little prayer. And my heart is spilling over as I celebrate the birth of my King who made possible the rebirth of my son.

Merry Christmas, indeed. Happy 2,000+, Jesus. And happy 0th in Jesus, Range. Wow.

Beauty of Need

I suppose once the blog bug bites, it infects quickly as I make my third entry today. But there is another story that needs to be told. I suppose I am excited to have more than 400 characters to share the important events of my life (Facebook).

These pictures are from one of the coolest things we have been given the privilege to do as a family. The Children of the World Choir came to my sister's church about a month ago. They are a group of orphans from the Philippines, Nepal, and Uganda who travel with this choir for 10 months to raise money and sponsorships for World Help kids around the world. It is an amazing group of kids, and they are a delight.

We had the absolute honor to be a host family to 2 of the girls, Evah and Zam. They were 7 and 10, the same ages as our girls Serenity and Sierra. We had them for just 2 nights, but they changed us.

We went to the Mad Platter and made a plate full of precious handprints around the world, complete with a heart over their home country Uganda. They giggled as their hands were painted, and they were amazed as they saw a photo of the earth from space.

We went to Picture People and had portraits made of my kids with the girls. We took the Ugandan drums and flag that Brian had brought back from Uganda just a few months earlier. It was wonderful to watch them enjoy the attention of my children.

And again, I watched my children lead me. They loved being able to assimilate these girls into our family for a few days. It was not service to them. It was absolute joy. They knew how to love and how to play and how to give.

They saw the providential hand of God to give us girls from Uganda, where Brian had just been. In fact, the first images one sees as they enter our home are of Uganda. The girls felt some sense of connection to their homeland, and it was great to see their amazement. And I delighted to also see my kids know that only God could orchestrate something so wonderfully unlikely.

I think that my children are learning that orphans and poor people and all races and every kid is just a person in need of love and friendship. It is a joy to watch them grow and teach me how to love. I cannot wait to see all God is going to do with them.

When we dropped the girls off to head on to their next concert, my children fell apart. They were devastated. They wanted to keep them forever! My Summit sobbed and said that he wanted them to have been born in our family, and his twin Venture said that he wanted the girls to brush their teeth with us everyday. These kids have the hearts of missionaries, and perhaps if I never get to go, it will be my children traipsing through jungles to spread the gospel to reaches unknown. That is a great source of joy for me.

I think we all share the same calling, and I think it enough to have plastered it to the back of my car on a bumper sticker with these simple words next to the earth: "Go. Give. Pray. Or Disobey. 'Is that not what it means to know Me?, declares the Lord.'"

So let us go and give and pray. And take our children with us.

Their Need to See Need

I have to add an addendum to my earlier entry. In addition to seeing more need myself, I am also acutely aware of my children's needs to see need as well.

One of the great passions of my heart is to de-Americanize my kids. By that I mean no disrespect to this great country. What I mean is that I want to avoid the spoil effect: the too big, too much mentality that is so pervasive. I am convinced that simply flowing along will produce that give-me mentality, and that in order to stop it, I have to engage.

In that effort, I try to give my kids opportunities to see the world outside of themselves. I want to give them chances to observe the world around them and know that there is more than our tiny little experience. I want to fan the flame of compassion in their hearts. It is just critical to my sense of what is right and just.

I took them to Carolina Children's Home to wrap presents yesterday. It was incredible to see them slowly warm to the thought that they could make a difference. That's something else I want them to hear in the midst of a burden to act: a privilege to act. And that they do not have to wait until they are grown to do big things for God. They have important work to do right now, in their world, in their capacity as children. They are mighty warriors, and I want them to know it.

So we went and wrapped. 30 gifts in about 90 minutes, and this by sweet girls who had to be taught to wrap at all! They did great, and they felt great. And I was delighted to share the holy with my children.

A few weeks ago, we went to the processing center in Charlotte for Operation Christmas Child for Family Day. The kids got to see what happens with the boxes, how they get around the world, and a better understanding of need. One of the boys answered the "Why do we send boxes?" question perfectly: "Because they're poor." He is 5 and he knows. I am delighted. And again, I got the joy of serving with them.

I follow their lead when we take our monthly turn at Epworth Children's Home. We go again in just a few days, and I always enjoy watching them just be themselves. They are kids, acting like kids, treating the kids at Epworth like the normal kids they are and long to be seen as. They are true servants of Christ in that place, and I am delighted again. Amazed and learning, I stand in awe of what a child will do when given the opportunity.

Back to the shoe boxes, the kids of our church were able to bless the 231 boxes we collected by praying over the boxes and then being responsible to commission those boxes in a long fireman's carry down the length of our children's ministry building. Every child touched every box, and from the older ones who could have been tempted to think themselves too cool for such a project, to the young ones who struggled to hold some of the big or heavy boxes, they all worked with joy. There was laughing and shouting and great pleasure in being given the chance to serve.

And I think that's the key. Kids are natural servers. They want to please. They want to feel important. They just need to be given the chance. They just need to be seen for the treasure they are and the gifts they alone can bring, and they need to be given the opportunity to serve.

I love what Wess Stafford says in his book Too Small to Ignore. He says, and then proves Biblically, that when God wants something really important done, He makes sure that a child is given the task. Miriam watching Moses drift on the Nile and then securing him a safe home and her mother a place to help raise him. The boy with the fish and loaves, who gave freely when an adult surely would have judged the others' lack of planning provision. Samuel being called in the night, who kept getting up even as old Eli kept telling him to go to sleep already. And then, right now, aren't we so aware of Mary. She was entrusted with our Savior. When God wants something done, He often finds a child to do it.

So I encourage us all to just keep looking, to keep our eyes open and our ears to the ground. We just need to see the places where our kids can serve. An elderly neighbor who needs her dog walked. A child alone on the playground in need of a friend. The church grounds in need of care. A food pantry, gift drive, whatever. I just encourage us all to find those places, and then sit back and enjoy the fruit. It changes a person to see outside of himself. It'll change them, and it'll change us, too. Glory to God! Isn't that what it's all about?

My Need to See Need

I am struck today by how much we have. There is so much food in my house, but I go to Walmart because we have "nothing" to eat. I stand in front of an open refrigerator and lament that there is "nothing" there. I even go to the store and struggle to find something appealing, and I am left wondering what's wrong with me. When and how did I get so spoiled?

I read a blog by the CEO of Harvest Hope food bank and was struck by her candor at our capacity for this kind of spoiled behavior. We all do it. We all think we don't have enough. We all think that if only we had, or we could, or we were, then we'd be ok. We'd then feel like it was enough. But that's so off base from truth.

Last Friday was my regular shift at Harvest Hope. For the last handful of months, I have been going regularly and doing intake for clients coming in to get food. I have seen all kinds of people, heard lots of stories. So much of what I see is pain. These precious people do not want to sit in a crowded waiting room for hours to wait for food. The vast majority have jobs and would like to either be at work or at home on a day off. I see people with many different disabilities and needs. People who care for aging parents. People with small children. Old people. Young people. They are all so different, but they share need.

And I sit across from them and listen. I try to be ever aware of the very full waiting room and move each client as quickly as I can while still making each one feel important and respected. I can tell that many of them are not accustomed to being looked in the eye. They avert my gaze and seem to not know what to do with the dignity I attempt to offer.

Some are ready to go and I try to get them out the door as quickly as possible. Others need to talk. That's what happened Friday. A lady who could have been my Mom's age sat across from me in tears. She said what I have often wondered if they think, "How did I get here?" She was lamenting her desire for more hours at work so that she could continue to care for an ailing uncle. She wanted to be able to serve other people, not receive service. She had a hard time wrapping her mind around sitting in front of me, waiting for her ticket, in need.

I took her hand, looked in her eyes, and reminded her that God sees her. She seemed to know that what I said was true, but she also seemed to need some encouragement. She just cried, and so I sat. I got to hear more about her life, her losses, her needs, her heart. I saw incredible beauty. She is the face of the struggling.

I share her story because I think we need to be reminded of the humanity of people in need. It is so easy to listen to all the political buzz words about the economy, letting the figures fly over our heads because they are too astronomical to comprehend. We listen to this side and that side, and we all have our opinions. But I just keep coming back to this lady. To these people.

I have seen so much, and I have not been at it very long. So many of those greatly valued souls in front of me are accustomed to being ignored. They are used to people not really seeing them. Being pushed aside, undervalued, unseen: this is part of life for them. But I am struck by Who does see them.

God in Heaven watches every one. He sees their emotional struggle to go and stand in line for hours to get a buggy of food. He sees the heartache at another job possibility slip away. He sees the dad who wants his kids to be proud of him, the grandmother who cares for her children and grandchildren because jobs are scarce, the child who wants to relieve the burden of his parents. He sees. And He cares.

And while my heart is always pulled to the extremity of the need across the waters of the Atlantic, reality cannot allow me to forget that there is need right here. And so I challenge myself, and you Fair Reader, to care more. We need to care more. We need to be careful to not allow politics to shroud our vision. We need to see those standing right in front of us.

And we need to see them for one very important reason: Jesus loves them, this I know, for the Bible tells me so. Little ones, to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong. Yes, Jesus loves them. Yes, Jesus loves them. Yes Jesus loves them, the Bible tells me so.

Here's the blog from Denise Holland, a servant much more equipped than I:
http://harvesthopefoodbank.blogspot.com/2009/11/ive-been-thinking-lot-about.html#comment-form