Difficulty + Pain = Beauty

Being a foster parent is the most difficult thing I have ever done. Ever. It's difficult working with the "System" and getting yanked around by people making decisions about the kids that affect our whole family and our quality of life. At times it feels like I don't have control over my own life. I feel trapped by our crazy schedule and the fact that we can't just up and drive out of state to visit family or go on a road trip. It's difficult to be spontaneous and spontaneity is something I value. It's so hard learning how to be a mother of a middle school-er, (help!) a third grader and a four-year-old, when I haven't raised them from infancy. When they're crying because of their past experiences I wish they were babies and I could hold them, rock them and simply shush away the pain.

I came to motherhood non-traditionally, but I've experienced the pain of labor. My labor didn't happen in a hospital, it happened (and is still happening) during countless hours spent in government offices and courtrooms and on my knees before God hoping, praying and advocating for the safety of three amazing children.

Yet, in the midst of, or maybe even because of the difficulty and pain there is beauty.

My life is richer in ways I'd have never known if Josh and I had never taken on the responsibility of being foster parents. I can't take credit for doing something brave, we honestly had no idea what we were getting into and during a temporary lapse of sanity decided to go for it.  I don't regret it. I never would have known the beauty of laying on a grassy hill cuddled together watching shooting stars and the look of awestruck wonder on their faces. Or the triumph of teaching a child to swim and the moment they tame their fears and jump into the deep water. Or the simple, innocent beauty of being loved by a child.

What Is Love?

This is a guest post by my foster kids, Isaiah (4yrs), Rosie (8yrs) and Magda (11yrs).  I asked them to tell me in their own words what love means to them. Here's what they have to say:

Isaiah:

"I love Nora and Cody and Seth and Preston. They're my best friends. I want to share my Batman toys with them".

Rosie:

Magda:

 (She wrote a poem)

Love is something precious you must value always,

There comes a time when love comes around,

so you take it, conceal it while you can,

Love hurts, yet it is a beautiful thing.

So that is love.

My 30th Year Challenge

Tomorrow is my 30th birthday. Yes, I'm officially old. At least that's what my eight-year-old foster daughter says. For a while now I've been trying to think of a way to do something memorable and inspiring for this milestone year. Something that will benefit my life in some way. First I thought about running a marathon, but then I realized I'm terrible at running. I'm a fair weather runner and I live in a climate where it rains about eight months or more out of the year. Then I started trying to think of something that would challenge me to learn about myself and how I choose to live in this society, which led me to thinking about our culture of consumerism. Eventually I settled on the idea of a year long "consumption protest". I got the inspiration for the idea from a blog I've been following called One Dress Protest. Blogger Kristy Powell has decided to wear one dress for an entire year. Here's some of what she has to say:

"I have had a complicated and complex history with clothing, much like anyone else living in 21^st century America. By this, not only do I mean in the ways I have identified the overcritical expectations that our society places on women and the clothes we wear, but also the perplexing friction in how those expectations make me feel about myself.
Thus, I’ve set out to explore what it looks like to openly, publicly and boldly survey what clothes and fashion mean to me, and to investigate some of the more meaningful implications the world of clothes have for our lives and hearts."

  
My protest is not quite as extreme as only wearing one dress, however the idea is the same. I hope to do some soul searching about what my own identity is founded in, while not buying new clothes for one year, starting tomorrow on my birthday. My goal is to find more time each day to create art, to write, to spend with my family and friends, maybe even to go for a run, because I won't be worrying about trying to put together a perfect outfit or keeping up with the latest fashion trends. I also want to put some action to all my words and ideas about simplicity. It's too easy to get swallowed up in this perception that we need to look a certain way in order to be socially acceptable. Who created this impossible standard? The media? The clothing companies themselves? It all comes back to consumerism. 

I'm on a journey of discovering life outside of constantly trying to achieve this perfect image. Perfectionism is a lost cause. There are too many more important causes to be wasting time and energy and money on striving to look perfect. That doesn't mean I'll stop fixing my hair and make-up or enjoying the clothes I do own, I don't intend to become grungy. I just want to embrace my flaws and see that every scar tells a story, and accept the fact that I am unique and the way I look and how others perceive me doesn't define who I am. Satisfaction will never be discovered at a department store and happiness won't be found in the mirror.  

So, that's my challenge, no new clothes for one year. Instead focus on standing up for the causes and the people I love. Here are my self-imposed rules for the challenge:

1. No new clothes, unless for absolute necessity. If in a few months all my jeans have holes, I'll buy some at a thrift store.

2. Socks and undies don't count. No need to explain that rule.

3. If I wear out my running shoes, I'll buy a new pair. I'm being optimistic on that one.

I wonder what other ways you all have found to challenge yourselves and discover your true identity? I'd love to hear about it.

I recently came across this video by Caitlin Crosby and loved it. Enjoy.

 

Simplicity

 “Simplicity involves unburdening your life, and living more lightly with fewer distractions that interfere with a high quality life, as defined uniquely by each individual.”

Linda Breen Pierce

Simplicity is an idea I've been studying and thinking about a lot lately. I've been reading blogs about minimalism and and getting back to basics. Minimalism and simplicity are not new ideas, but they are counterculture. I'm just learning about this and I don't consider myself a true minimalist, but I love the idea of living simply. I've found a balance that works for me as expressed in this quote by Duane Elgin, “The intention of voluntary simplicity is not to dogmatically live with less. It’s a more demanding intention of living with balance. This is a middle way that moves between the extremes of poverty and indulgence.” 
When I think about the things that make me most happy, I realize they're not "things" at all. In my last post I made a list of the things that are most important to me and bring the most joy:  Faith, loved ones, nature, art. These are the things I surround myself with daily. Of course there are other important things, the "must haves" such as food, clothing, shelter etc, and I have to admit I love these as well. I love good food, and I like my clothes to be an expression of my personality, and I take pride in maintaining our home, but these do not define who I am.
When we moved a few months ago I decided it would be a good time to implement the idea of simplicity. I went through my closet and removed anything I hadn't used for several months. It was embarrassing actually to see how much had accumulated over the years we'd lived there. The kids did the same and with some help they were able to give away a couple boxes of toys they no longer used.
Part of why I like the idea of simplicity is because is makes life easier. I feel less stressed when there's less clutter, both physical clutter and mental clutter.  There's less mess for the kids to clean. There's less running around to get unnecessary stuff.
Also, when you choose to live simply, you are intentionally stepping out of the comparison game. I know I'm guilty of comparing my life to others and feeling like I don't live up to the cultural standard. I don't make a certain amount of money or have designer clothes. Once you stop comparing your life, you can start living it. Choosing to simplify means I'm free to be myself.
Another reason is that I feel a bit more connected to those in the world who are less fortunate. Josh and I have both traveled a lot and have friends in third world countries. We communicate often with our friends and hear of their struggles. We do what we can to support their causes and by living simply ourselves we can do more for them. We're so blessed in comparison. Once you've looked poverty in the face it's difficult to justify extravagance.
When we stop worrying about material things we are free to enjoy the simple pleasures life has to offer, like a good book, a day at the ocean, more time to intentionally love your family and friends.

“The simplest things are often the truest.”

Richard Bach

Faith, Love, Beauty.

I had the opportunity to watch two great movies this week. The first, was a documentary Josh and I watched on Netflix, called The Human Experience. It's about a group of young men from New York City who all come from rough backgrounds and live together in a halfway house. They decide that they want to try to understand how other people live, so they spend a week living with the homeless people of New York, a week in Peru working with abandoned and abused children and a week at a leper colony in Ghana. In each of these places they find people who are happy simply because they have a community of people who love and support them. The people they interview have no worldly possessions and are considered outcasts of society, yet they have found happiness.  They have found love.
It's so interesting to me that in today's culture we are bombarded with the idea that we need "stuff" to be happy. We need big houses, nice cars, cool clothes etc. It's so easy to buy into this idea, but none of these things are what bring me happiness. I made a list of the things that bring me the most joy:

1. My faith. I find joy in discovering God and learning how to live life with him.


2. My loved ones. I love coming home to people who get up a greet me with a hugs and kisses.

3. Nature. I love being outside, whether in my yard, hiking in the woods or at the ocean.

4. Art. Creativity, my own and other people's, brings me joy. Music, visual art, and books, art conveys emotion, brings back memories and sets the mood for everyday events.

These are the things that are important to me.
So, I understand how people in unfortunate circumstances find happiness. They choose it. They find the important things that come for free. Faith, companionship, love, beauty.
The young men in The Human Experience quote Victor Frankl, "The last of human freedoms - the ability to choose one's attitude in a given set of circumstances."  


The other movie was Super 8. Without giving away the story, I can say the movie was about overcoming conflict, fear and hatred and the importance of friendship, family, compassion and love. It follows a group of kids who do some remarkable things in the midst of chaos. Super 8 is both funny and touching. One of the final scenes is a beautiful gesture that's symbolic of the freedom that comes with understanding and love.

These movies have had me thinking about the important things in life. If you haven't yet seen them, I believe it is worth your time.

Hidden Blessings

Often I go through life struggling with one issue or another and I get completely wrapped up it that issue. I let it rule my life and define my self worth.  I rage against God for letting it happen. Then I blame myself for not being holy enough, assuming that it's some sort of punishment. These reactions are all futile. They only foster bitterness and more pain.

A few years ago, I experienced an especially painfully situation. My husband Josh had cancer and had to go through treatment. The treatment got rid of the cancer, but we found out later after trying for over a year to start a family, it also left him sterile. We were told we could never have children. I went through all the usual emotions and, for a while, fell into depression. I was facing the death of a lifelong dream. It felt like my life would never be complete.

When you have an experience like this you find out who your true friends are. And you discover amazing friendships in people you may have least expected. They are the people who can sit with you while you cry, listen while you vent and acknowledge your pain. They don't try to fix you and offer endless advice. They understand it may not be the best time to quote James 1:2, "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds", because, trust me, "pure joy" is the last thing you are feeling at that moment. True friends forgive you when you shut down and can't hold up your end of the relationship. They are the ones who support you when you finally get up and begin to re plan your life.

Now, a few years down the road, I'm able to look back and see the hidden blessings. I see the old friendships that grew stronger and the new friends gained. My marriage is stronger for surviving the rough patches. I'm doing things now I never would have dreamed of if I hadn't been forced to rearrange my life goals. We became foster parents and have three beautiful foster children. I can't imagine a life where I never met these children. I don't know what the future holds or where they will be in the years to come, but I know my life is richer for having known them. I have learned invaluable lessons about love and the pain involved when you choose to love someone. I've also experienced the highs of love, and the joy of hearing a child call me "Mom".  Josh and I have learned how to be a husband and wife as well as a dad and mom.

There is still pain and there probably always will be unless we receive a miracle, but looking back I can honestly say I'm thankful for the things I've experienced. It's allowed me to know the joy and blessings I now possess.

I'm once again brought back to the words of Kahlil Gibran in The Prophet:

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

Brain Cord Theory

Micah, was our neighbor for four years from the time he was four years old till he turned eight. His family lived on the other side of our little duplex and he was always around when Josh and I were outside working in the yard. His energy, constant questions and story telling would be entertaining and annoying in turn. One day I was weeding and he came over and asked if he could help. I said if he wanted to pull weeds out of my yard, then by all means, please help. He pulled a couple weeds and then sat down next to me and said, "When I was in my mom's tummy I could read her mind.". I smiled and asked him how he remembered being in his mom's tummy. "I don't know I just remember swimming in circles a lot." He just stared at me blankly while I laughed, so I composed myself and asked him how he could read his mom's mind. "Well," he said in a matter of fact voice, "I had this cord that came out of my belly button and went all the way up to my mom's brain. That's how I read her mind." I swallowed another laugh to say I wonder what she thought about. "Mostly she thought about me. She loves me." With that he got up and went back to his house.

Some days I wish I had a brain cord that connected to God and I could say with such confidence, "Mostly He thinks about me. He loves me."  The truth is that most of the time I find myself in a constant state of questioning, doubting, worrying and wondering what the hell is going on in the world and in my life. I live in such an anfractuous state of trying to be thankful and telling myself God loves people, but dealing with the endless injustice I see in the world. I feel tired.

This morning while I was weeding the garden, I thought about Micah's brain cord theory and smiled. My four-year-old foster son, Isaiah, saw me smile and came over, hugged my leg and said, "I love you Mama B".  At that moment I saw so much to be grateful for and I knew with confidence, God loves me.