Generation after Generation

My father-in-law has been a pastor for 36 years and preached his last sermon this past Sunday. Despite being 6,000 miles away (or so, I don't remember exactly), we were able to listen to his sermon over the internet. My in-laws are moving from Alaska to our town in Florida. They'll be here in about three weeks. Even though I know that, I was still missing them listening to the sermon. I could picture my father-in-law taking off his blazer and rolling up his sleeves before preaching. The pauses in the sentences, the familiar cadence to his sermons. My mother-in-law in the front right row, daintily writing down notes in a journal. And I think about them and my parents and Matt and I being parents ourselves (and here 'The Circle of Life' begins to play in my mind). Matt's parents and my parents are leaving a legacy to us and the generations after. A legacy of faithfulness, a legacy of prayer, a legacy of constant quiet being that does not shake in the rough winds of life.

And I wonder what legacy we will leave. It's hard to picture in the everyday grime of raising small children. Our couch has Vaseline stains on it, I have raised my voice a shameful amount already in the short hours of today, my older son has repeatedly referenced slavery while completing his chores.

Just last night I was pondering this while cutting Noah's hair in the bathroom. And right in the middle of my musings on parenting, I noticed that Noah had grabbed the big kid toothpaste out of the cup and was sucking on it. It's chock-full of flouride. I sighed and put it back. Good parenting at its finest. Some may have been worried and had poison control on the phone but my motto, which has been sharpened as an ER nurse, is "You're fine." Perhaps that will be my legacy - living a life on the edge. And I really do. I often stand in front of the microwave while it's on. I've been known to cut the tags right off a mattress. I may only wait 20 seconds for my hair straightener to heat up instead of the full 30. And I almost always take the usb photo thing out of my computer before it tells me it's safe to take it out. Mainly because I don't want to be bossed around by a machine. I'll decide when things are safe around here. So yeah, I'm pretty bold.

Despite all these little frustrations in life, a legacy is being formed. And whether I raise my children with intention or not, something will be left. I think about our parents and how who we are affects those that come after us. Generation after generation cascading like rapids.

I hope my kids will say we also left a legacy of faithfulness. Parents who were steadfast in seeking after things they could not hold or see but trusted nonetheless.

They will hopefully not mind too much that their clothes were mostly handed down or bought at yard sales. It may come as a shock someday to realize that most kids they knew did not have to share rooms and even had their own televisions most of the time. But perhaps they will not mind that too much. They may not care that we didn't go out to eat much or go on nice vacations. My hope is that they will realize that we tried really hard to spend our time and money on things that mattered, on things that would last. Even though we failed a lot and made poor decisions, we kept going back to God's will for our lives.

And when they are spinning their wheels in the everyday grime of raising their children, I hope they will think about these things and choose the best over the simply good enough and leave their own legacy of grace.

Random Ramblings

Adoption Update

At this point, I'm waiting for my Letter of Acceptance (LOA) from China. Once we get that letter it should be approximately 10-12 weeks until we travel. The wait for this letter begins when you get Pre-Approval (PA) for your specific child. Could be 30 days, could be 100 days. It's like a surprise party for your mailbox.

It's all pretty random apparently. I'm thinking of sending China a fruit basket to show them how much I care.

I'm at day 29. The average is like 75. Sigh.

This is another of those times when the adoption crazy starts to set in. I don't want to bother my agency relentlessly so I try to limit my emails to once a week. I feel an incredible sense of accomplishment when I've gotten through the day without emailing them. Then I can drift into the sweet slumber of someone who is most definitely not a stalker.

We heard that Talitha's surgery is the end of this month but that's in like 10 days and we still don't know any more details. I want to send whoever will be staying with her a package with a stuffed animal and a camera to document the process but I can't. Trying to fight the crazy right now.

Pop Culture

Matt is somewhat famous in my family for not knowing much of anything about pop culture. I really feel that if we bumped into Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie, he would not know who they were. It's really fun to have him try to guess while you're humming 'Another One Bites the Dust' while playing Cranium. Your blood pressure rises while you hum loudly (as if he could only recognize the tune in certain pitches). Once while playing a game, my sister's boyfriend, Mitch, was trying to get my dad and Matt to guess 'Elijah Wood.' He said "Oh, this is the actor who played Frodo Baggins." Blank stares. "You know, Lord of the Rings?" Nothing. My dad and Matt look at each other and shrug. Mitch just sat in shock for a couple seconds then started saying "Mr. Frodo, Mr. Frodo!" in desperation.

They never got that point.

Often while we're watching a show or movie, I'll say "Oh, he was in that movie about WWII" or "She's so-and-so's daughter." He has no idea about any of it so he'll just start mocking me.

I don't know why we haven't been asked to teach a marriage seminar.

Last night we were watching 'The Office' and this was what happened:

"Oh, that's Joan Cusak!"

"Oh yeah, she's married to John Cusak."

"No, that's her brother."

"There's really a John Cusak?"

"Yes, how could you not know that?"

"Is he on SNL?"

Spandex

I bought one of those shaping tanks last year. Because I needed a bit of shaping. It pretty much compresses you to the point of light-headedness. Which makes your torso look great. Very sleek. The problem is that the fat has to go somewhere. So you end up with puffy armpits or a bubbly back. Not good.

I can't imagine the spandex things that go over your thighs. Knees like watermelon.

The Houdini of Bodily Functions

I went out to the workshop for a bit this afternoon to spray-paint some furniture handles. Katie and Noah were watching a movie on the couch when I stepped out. When I came back in, Noah held his hands out for me to wash. And then I noticed the odor. A sense of dread settled over me. Like spandex.

In the family room there was a little pile of feces. It looked suspiciously toddler-like. Noah was wearing a romper, like this:



I found his diaper down the hall. He had taken off his diaper and pooped on the floor.

His romper was still completely snapped.

I feel both alarmed and oddly proud. Boy's got skills.

Mother's Day

(A couple weeks ago our pastor asked me to say a few words about our adoption, in case there were people in the church that didn't know yet. Being the type of person I am, I took the liberty of rambling on for quite awhile because it was Mother's Day. This was what I read in church Sunday. I cut out the first paragraph because it was introducing Talitha and the adoption and you people already know that. Here's the rest):

When I was 6 years old, I ran away from home. After about 10 minutes, I got tired of walking and came back home. My mom was waiting for me with hot chocolate already made.

My mom wrote notes of encouragement in my lunch box. One she had a card delivered to my eighth grade math class before a big test. I bombed the test anyway but still, it was a nice thought.

My mom sang lullabies as she wiped my feverish brow with a cool cloth in the middle of the night.

My mom cried tears of joy when she held my first born for the first time.

She often tells me what an amazing mother I am, even though I often don’t believe her. She tells me even though I’ve heard a shrill “Mama!” for the 20^th time in 5 minutes and I can’t find the aspirin and Noah shrieking sounds like a pterodactyl being boiled in oil. Even when the bikes have been left in the yard again and I lose my patience. Even when I get asked questions like “Will the sun become a black hole and suck us all in and we’d all die?” and I reassure my son with an answer like “Oh honey, we’d all freeze to death long before that.” Even when someone (me) has left the peanut butter jar out again and Noah has not only eaten it in huge handfuls but has smeared it all over himself and I think “Forget the Klondike Bar, what would I do for a margarita right now?” Even at those times, she still tells me often what a good mother she thinks I am.

I hope to become like her a little bit more every day.

A mother’s love is no ordinary thing. When I held Jack as an infant, I felt that wave of love wash over me and I realized with astonishment that this must be how my parents love me and I finally understood it. A mother’s love is strong. It is fierce and determined. It cheers for every homerun and holds us up through the deep valleys of disappointment. A mother’s love goes before the throne of grace for us. A mother’s love is steadfast in the face of failure. It never gives up the good fight. A mother’s love is nothing if not exceedingly hopeful.

I have never met my youngest daughter. And yet I love her with a mother’s love. This day will be even sweeter for me next year. An orphan once left alone will be a beloved daughter, held up by the strength of her mother’s love. Despair will have given way to hope. And I will teach her of the God who has kept her safe in the cleft of the rock and has loved her all this time with an everlasting kindness.

Please pray for her and our family as we travel the long road of adoption. Hug your children today and thank God for the women in our lives who live out his love so well. Happy Mother’s Day.

Morning Conversation with Jack

This morning I was idly scrolling through the news stories on MSN and contemplating the deep things in life. It's rainy and chilly here. Rained all day yesterday and today and probably tomorrow. I like rainy days here like I liked sunny days in Kodiak, AK. Something different. It's exciting. Rainy days here are a welcome break from the sun and I'm looking forward to sitting in the screened in porch today, reading books and watching the rain while the kids color.

Last night we had a friend over for dinner and he brought ice cream and toppings for dessert (Hi Ginny!). He brought a bottle of Magic Shell. Neither Matt nor I had ever tried it so it was quite a delicious experience. You pour it over ice cream and it hardens like those dipped cones. While I was wondering what component in the sauce makes it harden like that, Jack walks into the homeschool room.

Jack: "Do I look like an adult?"

He's wearing jeans, sneakers and a hooded jacket. None of his clothes ever contain cartoon characters or Pokemon or anything like that so sure, his clothes could pass for a teen or young adult.

Me: "I suppose so. Why, do you want to look like an adult?"

Jack: "Yes, and I won't be a teenager for 6 more years. It's so long!"

Me: "It will be here soon. Why do you want to be a teenager so much?"

Jack: "Hopefully by the time I'm a teenager I'll already be in college. I'd like to start when I'm 12. Then I'll have my Bachelor's at 16 and if I get good grades I can get into medical school at 18. I'll be a doctor when I'm 22 and a surgeon at 28. Then I'll be Chief of Surgery at 40. I don't want to be too old when I become Chief you know. When I'm 70 I'll probably retire and do an easier job. Like driving trains."

Nothing makes you feel like a slug more than pondering ice cream while still in your pajamas as your 7 year old maps out his life plan.

Sheesh.

He had to run and get his heart model for the picture.