Hangin' with Peaches...

Teenage Son and Teenage Daughter (along with 30 others from our church) just returned from a 10 day missions trip to inner city LA where they worked with WOW JAM International. This was Teenage Son's first year to participate, but Teenage Daughter was returning for her second time. Last year she hit it off with the WOW JAM founders' daughter. This year she was excited to hang out with her again as they worked in inner-city neighborhoods like Watts and South Central.

"Her" being the daughter (who shall remain unnamed!) of Stephen and Linda Tavani. Linda Tavani AKA Peaches. As in Peaches and Herb. As in 'Reunited' and 'Shake Your Groove Thing' Peaches.

This Peaches.



Stephen and Linda have a phenomenal ministry. And not only did Teenage Son and Teenage Daughter get to hang out with some cool people from all over CA, but they got to serve. They set up tents, passed out water bottles, canvased neighborhoods, prayed with folks, prayed over folks, and met some needs. They changed some lives.

And I think they might have come home just a little changed as well.

One day in a life...

This morning I woke up and wondered what I felt like eating for breakfast...

In Bangladesh a mother woke up and wondered where she would get food to feed her children...

I filled my Cuisinart coffee maker with tap water and ground my coffee beans...

In Tanzania a young girl walked 2 kilometers to the river to fetch a bucket of dirty river water for her family to drink.

After breakfast, I took Young Son on an outing to the mall where we went to the Lego store and Build A Bear. Then we had lunch at the food court...

In Haiti a child's "outing" was to the Compassion Center where he received his only meal of the day.

After coming home from the mall, I browsed recipes and made a shrimp casserole to take to a family from my Bible study- where the husband/father has been ill...

In India a child browsed through trash to find bits of scrap metal to sell- hoping to earn a few coins and pay for his next meal.

I live a life of privilege. They live a life of subsistence.

Join me on Wednesday, June 25th, along with over 5,000 others, in a day of fasting and prayer for the global food crisis. You can even put your money where your mouth is (literally) and donate what you would have spent on food to the global food crisis fund at Compassion.

Because we CAN make a difference- one child at a time.

Learning from Aslan...

Warning! Prince Caspian movie spoiler below... Read at your own risk!

On Saturday we went to see The Chronicles of Narnia- Prince Caspian, a movie that we've been waiting to see since we saw the first movie two years ago. And while I did enjoy the film (and the kids loved it!) I was a little disappointed that this film does not stay as true to the book as The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe did.

Oh, I understand creative license and all that. And I get that this is an adaption of the book, so I was really OK with most of the changes. There was one thing that really bothered me though...

In the book by C.S. Lewis, Aslan appears midway into the story when he summons Lucy to follow him upstream as the children are searching for a place to cross the river on their journey to Aslan's How. But since only Lucy can see Aslan- Peter, Susan, and Trumpkin all vote to continue downstream instead (Edmund does vote with Lucy- redeeming himself from his role early in the TL,TW&TW). This choice backfires when the children walk into one of Miraz's outposts and come under fire. After retreating back to their original position, they build a fire and settle down for the night- admitting that they will have to travel upstream after all. Aslan wakes Lucy in the middle of the night and instructs her to wake the others to follow him NOW. Lucy does so and everyone follows Lucy (albeit against their will) who is still the only one who can see Aslan. After a while Edmund sees Aslan also, followed by Peter, and finally Susan. After leading the children safely across the gorge, Aslan speaks with the children and their companion, Trumpkin the dwarf- who does not even believe in lions, let alone Aslan!

The movie adaption of Prince Caspian almost completely eliminates this pivotal chapter of the book. Lucy only dreams of Aslan and then leads the children across the river when she accidentally discovers the path by falling through the edge of the gorge. Aslan appears again at the end of the film, strangely absent for most of the movie.

Initially after seeing the movie, the missing scene bothered me- but I couldn't really put my finger on why. So last night I re-read the book and discovered my answer in Aslan's response to Lucy when she apologizes for not following him the first time she saw him. Aslan says, I will wait here. Go and wake the others and tell them to follow. If they will not, then you at least must follow me alone.

It's about following God's call in faith, regardless of what others around you think and say... How often do I hear Him speak to me, but fail to heed His words because of what others think or even my own self-doubt? And just as Aslan forgives the Pevensie children and draws them back to the correct path, the Lord is gracious and draws us back to His plan for us if we stop to listen, repent, and follow. He redeems our mistakes and puts us back on His path. As Aslan explains to Lucy, To know what would have happened, child? No, Nobody is ever told that. But anyone can find out what will happen... There is only one way of finding out.

So if you loved the first movie and you're looking for a great family film- go see Prince Caspian. But, to loosely quote this review '...read the book. That's where the real magic lies'.

What if?

Last week I was at my local Safeway buying a couple of days worth of groceries. Ahead of me at the checkout was a very pregnant mom with her two little boys in tow. The checker finished ringing up her weeks worth of groceries while a young bag boy packed them for her. When he was finished bagging her groceries he quickly moved on to mine. I noticed the mom pause- waiting for him to ask her if she needed help out perhaps? before she gathered up her sons and pushed her heavily laden cart towards the door.

I commented to the bagger, That mom looked like she could use some help...

Oh, he responded uncertainly, Um- I guess I forgot to ask her if she needed help out.

Go now, I countered, I can bag my own groceries.

The bagger left my groceries and quickly ran to catch up with her as she headed for the parking lot. After exiting the store, I scanned the parking lot and noted with satisfaction that the bag boy had caught up with her, and was loading the bags of groceries into her car.

Yesterday my real-life-and-in-person-good-friend, Llama Momma, wrote this post. Her moment of kindness for the mom at the mall touched me and reminded my own brief moment at Safeway last week. Now let's be honest- it didn't cost me anything to help that mom out. She probably doesn't even know that I sent the bag boy out to help her. All I did was bag my own groceries- something I would do anyway if a bagger wasn't available. It didn't make a big difference to me, but as a mom who remembers what it was like to take little ones to the grocery store while pregnant with a third- I know it made a difference to her.

It makes me wonder what this world would be like if we all took those opportunities of kindness? What if, the next time you saw an overwhelmed mom, you stopped for a moment and lent a hand? What if you said an encouraging word to the checkout clerk who's been on his feet all day- and still has an hour to go?

What if?

Of chicken broth and fruit juice...

J and I are participating in 'school of discipleship' at our church. Basically it's a one year intensive program designed to help you go deeper with God. We meet Sunday nights for a two hour long class, memorize assigned Scriptures, read an assigned book each month, and do occasional projects. Each month has a different focus- January's focus is prayer.

Today all the participants embarked on a three day fast. Specifically- no food beginning last night after dinner and ending when we will all eat together on Saturday evening after spending the day in solitude. Just so you don't worry- the fasting part is up to the individual, some folks who can't fast food are fasting other things like TV, etc.

J and I are going with clear fluids only. So clear juices, water, tea, broth, etc. are all OK. So far it's going well, but there are two things I'm noticing-

1. I never noticed how many different food smells there are when I'm out running errands... Suddenly everything smells good- even food I wouldn't normally eat.

2. I have peed more today than I usually do in a week! TMI- I know, but I just had to say it...

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Yesterday our pastor preached a sermon on change. It all boiled down to the fact that change is part of life. Change is necessary for growth. If we don't continually change, both physically and ultimately spiritually, we will stagnate and die.

Here's the thing though- I don't like change. I resist change. I like to be in control. Change involves the unknown, and I'm afraid of the unknown- the unknown is out of my illusion of control... But the bottom line is that I am not in control. God is in control.

I don't want to be just swept along with the tide of change anymore- going kicking and screaming into the unknown. Instead I am choosing to embrace change, knowing that God's desire is to transform me as an agent of change for His kingdom.

And you know what? I don't know what's going to happen. But that's OK, because He does and He has promised to never leave me or forsake me.

I do know one thing- it's going to be an adventure!

A different kind of Christmas?

It was kind of a different Christmas this year. This was the first year that we did not have any family here to share the holiday with. J's parents are both gone (his mom just passed away last year). And since my Mom had to work yesterday and today (she's a nurse), my parents weren't able to make the trip down from Idaho. So it was just the 5 of us. It wasn't bad, the kids had a great day- it was just different. To be perfectly honest- it didn't really feel like Christmas for a lot of the day...

Oh, we had a nice Christmas morning- fresh baked cinnamon roles and an orange biscuit ring with orange juice and coffee. We read the Biblical account of Jesus' birth from Luke. We prayed. We opened presents...

Then we went to the movies. We saw National Treasure- Book of Secrets and let me tell you, the theater was packed! I had heard that Christmas Day was a popular day for going to the movies, but I didn't realize just how popular until we got there... Fortunately we had bought our tickets online, in advance... We did enjoy the movie, it was a lot of fun. But, it just didn't feel Christmas-y...

Since it was just us, we had decided to go out for dinner- instead of coming home after the movie and cooking a big meal. We headed over to Chevy's... Again- it was packed. After a brief wait to be seated, we ordered. Dinner wasn't great (there was a mix up with our food), but it was OK. Again, however, it just didn't feel like Christmas Day.

After we came back home and the kids played with their new stuff- the boys played with Nerf guns, Teenage Daughter figured out how to use her i-Pod, the kittens frolicked in the empty boxes and found all sorts of new things to bat around on the floor. And started to feel like Christmas again...

So now the kids are in bed and once again, I'm listening to Michael W Smith's album It's a Wonderful Christmas. And I'm realizing that all day I had been thinking that my home and our family is what makes our Christmas celebration special. And then I hear, really hear, the lyrics reminding me that Christmas is not about where we are or what we do. How we celebrate Christmas doesn't change who we're celebrating, because it's not about us at all.

It's about Him... Jesus Christ. Son of God. Son of Man. Savior for us all. And it's not just today, but everyday.

Thanks. I needed that reminder...

The theology of 10 year olds...

Jesus is like a sock.

These immortal words were uttered by Young Son as we left the movie theater this evening. After I asked him to explain this spiritual mystery he went on to tell me about the video they watched in Children's Church today.

There was a boy named Johnny who's grandmother gave him a ticket to Disneyland for his Christmas gift every year. One year, instead of what he was expecting, he received a Christmas stocking. Jesus is like that, Young Son went on to say... People expected him to come as a mighty warrior and strong ruler. They expected him to conquer their enemies. Instead he was born in a stable. He was not what people expected.

I'm glad that Jesus didn't come to conquer. Because, in order to conquer- someone has to be conquered. Defeated. Jesus doesn't defeat, He loves- and His love is universal and eternal.

That's the best gift of all.

Mission Possible...

This morning I dragged myself out of my cozy, warm bed at the crack of dawn... Oh- OK, it was only 6:30, but it felt like the crack of dawn... After rousing our children, we loaded (a reluctant) Young Son and (an excited!) Teenage Daughter into the car and drove 45 miles to San Francisco. Where we spent the morning volunteering at the San Francisco Rescue Mission in the Tenderloin along with a group of 18 other volunteers from our church. (Teenage Son stayed home to study for his Chemistry and Algebra 2 finals on Tuesday.)

I have to admit that I wasn't so excited about going. In fact, I would not have gone at all if this hadn't been an outreach event for the missions department of our church- the very same missions department where I happen to serve as missions director. But feeling obliged, we rallied the troops and went anyway.

We don't spend a lot of time in the city as evidenced by Young Son's comments as we drove through San Francisco on our way to the mission...

What's that?

What?

There's writing on that building...

That's graffiti.

Whoa! Isn't that illegal?

Yes, he lives a sheltered life. But anyway, back to my story... We arrived at the mission and, along with 400 other volunteers, and checked in at the registration table to serve at their holiday outreach. We were quickly assigned to "Meal Prep" duty. After opening in prayer and singing a couple of carols, we had a brief orientation and then went to work. For the next two hours I scooped mashed potatoes into Styrofoam take-out boxes. We assembled over 1,400 meals that were delivered to families in the neighborhood. In addition there was a grocery give-away and a holiday party (complete with presents!) for the area children.

About a third of the way through the meal assembly, we ran out of the gospel message fliers that were being taped on top of the meal boxes (this was Young Son's job). I told Young Son that he could take a break and eat a Christmas cookie, but he declined saying- They're making more fliers and I need to finish taping them on! And this is a child who never turns down a cookie!

Two thirds of the way through our 1,400 meals, my sciatica started acting up and my back was hurting. But you know what? I didn't really care. In spite of my initial reluctance, I was having a great time visiting with those around me as we worked together to serve the community.

After we finished assembling the meals we spent a few minutes cleaning up. There were a couple of minutes when I couldn't find Young Son. When we located him, he was spraying tables and wiping them down with a sponge (cleaning up- the last place that I would think to look for him!). After finishing up, we decided to take the kids out to lunch in the city before driving back home. We headed down to Boudin at Fisherman's Wharf for their famous clam chowder in a bread bowl.We had a nice lunch and arrived back home around 2:00.

All in all, it was a thoroughly enjoyable day. Even more important- we blessed people who can use a little extra blessing, especially during the holidays.

I have a feeling, we'll be volunteering at the rescue mission again. In fact, it could become a regular event.

A whole lotta' prayin' going on

Well- it's official. Teenage Son turned 15 1/2 today. He is now old enough to get his learner's permit! (My good friend, Llama Momma, is freaking out right now since she was at the hospital with us the day he was born...)

So yesterday I logged onto driverseducation.com and signed him up for online driver's ed. He has 15 units to complete at about 15 mintues per unit and then we can go down to the DMV to apply for his permit. Six short hours of driving instruction and 6 months of practice with Mom and Dad later- and he will be on the road.

Solo.

It's pretty exciting. And a little bit scary. I'm not too worried about how Teenage Son will drive, since he is a very straight and narrow kind of kid. He is usually the one telling me to turn the music down, or that I shouldn't talk on my cell phone while I drive. I'm more worried about other drivers on the road...

Even scarier, I know that this is just the first big step of his future independence... Driver's license. College. Career. Marriage. All involve decisions that he will have to make without me. Oh, I might have some input, but ultimately he will decide and bear the consequences. All I will be able to do is sit back and watch.

And pray. A whole lot of praying...

Santa's Favorite Story by Hisako Aoki

I originally wrote this post last month... But since WFMW is holiday themed this week, I thought if fit perfectly. I hope it works for you- check Shannon's site for more WFMW Christmas-ish tips!

If you're looking for books to share with your children this holiday season, let me introduce you to my all time favorite children's book for Christmastime... I purchased Santa's Favorite Story in a bundle from Scholastic when Teenage Son was in 1st grade and it quickly became a must read for our family. I have also used this book in Sunday School lessons as well as in my children's classrooms when they were younger (yes- in a California public school no less!).

This beautifully illustrated story tells of Santa going for a walk in the woods before Christmas. On his walk, he gets tired and falls asleep under a tree. When the forest animals discover him sleeping, they worry that he might be too tired to deliver presents this year- alarmed they ask "Does this mean there won't be Christmas?". Santa awakens and reassures the animals that Christmas will always happen because "Christmas hasn't anything to do with me". He then goes on to tell the animals the Christmas story. Santa concludes by saying "Love was the gift God gave to us on the first Christmas, and it still is you know. And this love is far better than any presents I can ever deliver." Refreshed by his nap, Santa and the animals then return to prepare for Christmas and Santa's annual Christmas eve journey.

I love this book because it bridges Santa and Jesus' birth so beautifully. Having Santa himself recant the true meaning of Christmas really brings it home for children. I hope that your family enjoys this book as much as we have!

Happy Birthday Shigeko

Yesterday would have been my mother in law's 81st birthday. Would have been, because she passed away just over one year ago. We buried her on her 80th birthday.

She was diagnosed with hepatitis C almost 15 years ago. Over the last several years of her life she also battled liver cancer. And battle she did- she was a fighter. After living through World War II Japan, and having lost all her remaining family, she was a Survivor. She was determined not to let anything defeat her- even death. By sheer will she lived with a diagnosis that usually means death in 3-6 months- for 3 years.

I struggled with her for most of my early years of marriage. I thought she was too controlling (maybe that was the pot calling the kettle black?) and resented when she would ignore my wishes- especially regarding my children. Her only grandchildren.

As her health declined, she relied more heavily on my husband, her only child. J was having to make frequent 5 hour round trips to Sacramento to help her. As her mind began to deteriorate, due to the disease, we began discussing the need to move her out of her home. We moved her into an assisted living facility close to us, in June of 2006. Frankly, she was not happy with us at the time, but it had become a safety issue. Even with hired help coming to her home, she simply needed more help. We knew as well, that it would only get worse...

I knew that moving her down here was going to be a mixed blessing. While it was good to have her close, it also meant that I was taking on a huge job with coordinating doctor's visits, medications, procedures etc. As busy as my life was as a stay at home mother of three- this was adding a whole new dimension. J was involved as well, but he had used most of his vacation and personal time up with all the trips up to Sacramento earlier in the year. So he took on the role of dutiful son- visiting her after work and frequently taking her to the Japanese market for her favorite treats.

At the time that we began moving her to the Bay Area, my annual Tuesday AM Bible Study group was wrapping up for the year (we break over the summer). At our last meeting, we shared prayer requests for the summer. Knowing that I would be investing a huge amount of time in my mother in law- I asked that the Lord would soften my heart towards her. Specifically, I asked that I would not resent her or the time I would need to spend taking her to doctors etc, but that it would be an act of love.

It was still difficult, but God answered that prayer. So much that when she did pass away, I was surprised by the depth of grief that I felt. Even still today...

So happy birthday, Shigeko. I hold onto the hope that we will see her again on day in heaven- where there is no hepatitis, no cancer, no sadness.

Only joy.

Elijah

Part of traveling to a third world country is seeing hard things. It's not uncommon in Tanzania to see adults crippled by polio, children with bloated tummies due to worms, or babies suffering from malaria.

This trip was no exception.

At the end of one of my malaria education classes in Zanzibar, a Masai mother came to me with her baby. She lifted the shirt on her son, Elijah, who looked to be only two or three months old. I immediately saw that he was laboring to breath and his chest was retracting (chest muscles pulling in with respiration- a sign of breathing difficulties and respiratory distress).

I took the mother and baby to see the clinic director, Carol, whom we were working with- thinking that we would send this mother and baby to the hospital for respiratory treatment. Carol got Pastor Paul to translate for us and he asked the mother what was wrong with her baby. She told us that her tiny baby is actually a year old and that he had been born with a heart defect. The doctors at the hospital have told her that there is nothing that they could do for Elijah. He is simply going to die.

Carol then informed me that I was going to pray for this baby's healing. We gathered two of the African pastors that were working with us and a couple of Americans from our team and we prayed for baby Elijah's healing.

Then I returned to teach my next class.

Walking away from this baby was the hardest thing I've ever done. My American sensibilities were screaming to take him to a cardiologist, to get him surgery, to do whatever was necessary to save him. All things that are not possible on a small island in a third world country. An island where there is no cardiologist, no neo-natal intensive care unit, no open heart surgery...

Only prayer.

I believe in prayer. I believe that God heals. I know that He heals people in third world countries with frequency and power that we don't usually see in the USA- where we have access to specialists and life saving medical procedures. But I'm still struggling with it all. I want to pray and seek medical intervention- because that's what we would do in America.

But he isn't in America. He is in Africa.

So I continue to pray for baby Elijah, knowing that God holds this precious child in His hands. And I continue to struggle with my feelings of powerlessness and my lack of faith.

And yet I pray.

Mazel Tov Frankie!

Today Teenage Daughter and I attended her best friend, Frankie's, Bat Mitzvah. This was the first time I have been to a temple service (unless you count visiting the Western Wall in Jerusalem) and I found it to be a deeply moving experience.

Even though this was the first service that I have attended, I have always loved all things Jewish. I love the history and tradition, the culture, the music, the holidays, and of course- the food... We light a hanukiah for Hanukkah every year, along with the lights on our Christmas tree. I can't recite the accompanying prayers in Hebrew as I light each candle, but I feel a connection knowing that, Jesus celebrated this same holiday.

For me, my fascination of Judaism is a natural extension of my personal journey as a follower of Jesus. After all- Jesus was Jewish, and Christianity really has it's roots in Judaism.

So, I'll be thinking about that all tomorrow when we go to church and worship Jesus, the Messiah, who came for us all- Jew and gentile.

It's the end of the world as we know it...

This morning, while getting ready for church, I flipped on the TV in my bedroom. The Core was showing on TNT. I watched about 45 minutes before we needed to leave for the service. I've seen the movie before, so it wasn't a big deal to miss the ending. They always seem to end the same way anyway... I know this because I love disaster flicks like Deep Impact, Armageddon, or Independence Day.

The plot is always the same- impending disaster in the form of an asteroid/alien invasion/natural disaster is threatening the entire Earth. Everyone on the planet will perish in 6 weeks/6 months/1 year. Humanity's only chance for survival lies with a small band of scientists/astronauts/hip university professors who undertake a secret mission, against all odds, to save the planet. During the course of this mission at least one member of the team will perish tragically while giving his/her life in an act of heroism. The remaining team member(s) will accomplish the mission and return as heroes. Earth will be forever changed, but the human race will rise again triumphant!

It might be formulaic, but it's a formula that I never get tired of...

Of course, real life doesn't always follow the formula. And frankly, as a mother of two teenagers (one with a visual impairment) and a 10 year old son with his own challenges- I deal with crisis on a day to day basis. Most are small- forgotten lunches, a flat tire, or a child with the flu. Others have been major- a child diagnosed with a disability, the death of J's parents, or giving birth to a critically ill baby.

Maybe that's why I like these movies so much... It's the one place where I'm guaranteed a happy ending. Actually, on second thought- it's not the only place. As a follower of Jesus, I look forward to the ultimate happy ending-

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea. I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride beautifully dressed for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, "Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." (Revelation 21:1-4)

More than just a church...

One of the things I notice most about living in the Silicon Valley is our lack of family in the area. All of my family lives in Idaho or Washington. J's parents lived in Sacramento and have both passed away. Since he is an only child, he pretty much just has us.

We're not alone in this respect. We have lots of friends who moved here from other parts of the country, or another country altogether, for a job and have ended up staying long term. J and I both fall into this category as well (J was moved to the Silicon Valley from Chico by his then employer in 1989. I moved here the same year from Idaho to work as a nanny for a Stanford professor.)

Several years ago, I was working part time doing admitting for an urgent care in Palo Alto. One frequent scenario would occur- a patient would be brought in by his/her spouse with kids in tow... I remember one specific day when a patient checked in with chest pain. His wife had brought him in and was sitting in our waiting room with their two young children while he was taken back for tests. I could read the fear on her face as she tried to entertain the children while wanting to be with him in the back- the fear of not knowing what was going on with her husband.

I remember asking if there was someone I could call for her who could come to take the kids, so that she could be with her husband. Her response was that there was no one to call. They had been moved to the area by his company. They only knew people that he worked with, and she didn't feel that they were close enough to anyone to impose on them. I asked her if they attended a church or synagogue that I could call? Again, no...

Fortunately, her husband was fine. His chest pain was stress related, but not a heart attack. I remember, even as they were leaving, how it grieved me to know that this wife and mother had no one to call on. What if it had turned out differently? Where could she have turned?

It made me appreciate our church family all the more. I know that at any time I can call the church office for help (and I have). I have been in the hospital ER with J, and people have come and taken my children home. When I was hospitalized for emergency surgery, a friend came and took two of my children home overnight. Another mom delivered groceries to J while I remained in the hospital so that he wouldn't have to worry about what to feed the kids. We have had meals brought to us and we bring meals to others.

Because, in the end, we're more than a church- we're family. And no, it isn't always perfect. And yes, sometimes we're a little kooky. But that's OK. Families are like that...

Praying for Shelly

I don't usually identify family or friends by name in my blog. Today is an exception...

Yesterday, my friend, Shelly's husband passed into eternity after a battle with cancer. It's only been a matter of months since Mark was diagnosed with a cancerous tumor on his leg. Initially it seemed like chemo and radiation were working, but Mark's kidneys began to fail and then the cancer spread. While we'll miss Mark, my heart is heavy for Shelly and her three children, ages 11-16. I keep thinking of all the upcoming decisions Shelly will have to make. As hard as the last few months have been; even harder times are coming.

The practical, "what can I do to help" side of me wants to jump in to start taking care of details for her. So I'll take a meal. I'll ask her what I can do to help. But mostly, I'll pray. I'll pray for peace, comfort, and wisdom as Shelly continues on without her husband.

Because I know that through the last few months, the Lord has been with Shelly and her family. I know that He is walking through this difficult journey with her now. And most importantly, He will stay by her side as she ventures into an unknown future.

And while that future is unkown to us. He knows it already, and He sees the time when Shelly and her family will come through their grief into joy again...

And the report is...

Teenage Daughter returned today from an outreach to LA with WOW JAM International... When I asked her what her favorite moment was, she related this story:

While at the baptism service on Saturday in Santa Monica, Teenage daughter was assigned to accompany a family who had given their hearts to the Lord at one of the WOW JAMs. Along with many others, they had come to be baptised in the ocean. The father told Teenage Daughter that when he was young, he was swimming in the Pacific where he was caught in a riptide and almost drowned. He has been afraid of the ocean ever since, but his fear was now gone- and he has come to be baptised.

It always amazes me to hear what my kids get from these kinds of trips. She spent a week in the crime ridden neighborhoods of South Central, Watts, and Skid Row. By all reports- thousands of people attended each event and this is what she remembers most?

I wonder what I would see if I looked at the world once again through the eyes of a 13 year old girl? Especially one who has yet to really experience how hard the world can be. Maybe a dad who used to be afraid, but isn't anymore isn't as trivial as my mind tends to think.

Maybe it's actually a lot more profound...

I guess it's not really a sacrifice if it doesn't hurt....

I’m the only stay at home mom that I know of who has latch-key children.

Let me explain, last fall I took an extremely part-time job in a doctor’s office. My friend, “C” is the office manager and I thought it would be a novelty to work one or two days a month with her. I went in and trained for a couple of days and starting substituting for the regular receptionist on an as-needed basis. It was the perfect setup, I enjoyed my co-workers as well as working with the patients and the hours were flexible. I could work if I was available and leave if I needed to pick kids up from school etc.

Come February, Missions Emphasis Month rolled around at our church. I decided that I wanted to pledge my paychecks from the doctor’s office to missions for 2007. I ran it by my husband, who gave me the go ahead and I filled out the pledge card and turned it in. Now before you start thinking about what a devoted and faithful Christian I am, let me be honest with you- at the time, it really wasn’t a big deal… First of all, I don’t make that much at the doctor’s office. In addition, we live a fairly comfortable life. It’s not like money is growing on trees or anything, but I don’t have to worry that we’ll have enough money to pay the mortgage or feed our kids each month… So it was all going well- I worked an occasional day here and there with the added benefit of feeling good about my ‘sacrifice’ when I put in my mission offering.

Then it all began to change- the regular receptionist decided that a career change was in order and she resigned. My hours at work increased while they interviewed and trained a new employee. My house started to fall apart and the laundry piled up. Not wanting to let my friend “C” high and dry- I set up carpools for the kids, gave Teenage Daughter a house key and worked as many hours as I could- knowing all the while that the end was in sight… Suddenly my ‘sacrifice’ felt like a test. In spite of the inconvenience, I felt that I had made a pledge that I needed to fulfill and I continued working. It even felt good to know that I was being obedient (something that has never come naturally to me). New Employee starting working full time and I breathed a sigh of relief as my life began to return to its usual routine…

After only a few days of back to normal, I got the call asking if I could come back in to work. New Employee had lasted less than two weeks when she called in to say that it would be her last day. So here I am working again Monday though Thursday (Friday's are spent working as a parent aide at my kid's school). To be honest, it doesn’t feel good anymore- I’m exhausted, the house is trashed, and I need to go buy groceries! Suddenly, my ‘feel good mission offering’ has become an actual Sacrifice and I’m discovering that sacrifice is painful!

So if you think about me in the next couple of weeks, say a prayer… “C” is interviewing more potential employees today, my family has been more than patient at home, and I need a nap…

It is well...

We had a recent plumbing incident at our house. I was cleaning up after our spaghetti dinner on a Friday evening when the disposal died. I tried all the usual fixes- including pressing the reset button, but nothing happened. Fortunately, the sink was still draining- so I called our trusty plumbing service and made an appointment for Monday. Monday morning rolled around and I thought I would just flick the disposal switch to see what would happen… Voila! The disposal worked just fine (or so it seemed…) and I canceled the appointment.

Fast forward to the next day- I was running off to my weekly Tuesday am Bible study and started the dishwasher before dashing out the door. I returned home in the afternoon to discover a greasy ring in my sink. I ran the water- again, everything seemed OK. I figured that it was just a fluke and went ahead and cleaned the sink. (In hindsight- this is probably the part where I should have gotten a clue that there was indeed a problem!) Later that afternoon I turned the faucet on and heard a strange “waterfall” sound coming from under the sink. I opened the cupboard to discover a mini-disaster of flooding water and partially-ground spaghetti sprayed over every surface in the cupboard! I called my husband who was on his way home from coaching soccer practice with the “You need to come right home!” message and left for Albertsons to purchase mass quantities of paper towels.

As I drove to the store (and let’s be honest here, I was not exactly in a calm, happy mood!) I had my iPod on in the car and the Jars of Clay album that I had recently downloaded came on. As It Is Well With My Soul played the circumstances under which the song was written flashed in my mind… I remembered hearing that the hymn was penned by Horatio Spafford in memory of his four daughters who perished at sea, when the ship on which they were sailing sank in the mid-Atlantic. Spafford's wife, Anna, who was traveling to England along with her daughters, sent a telegram to her husband after being rescued. It simply read, "Survived alone".

Suddenly my “crisis” was put in perspective… Yes, it was a big mess (which my dear husband cleaned up) and it cost us several hundred dollars to fix the broken pipe and clear out the spaghetti clog. But in the scheme of the eternal, it wasn’t even a blip on the screen…


When peace like a river, attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll,
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul…