November

Almost two years ago my husband and I felt deeply that God was calling us to downsize… specifically our house… and move back to San Diego even though we had only moved away from it 18 months before.  I had just remodeled my kitchen to an absolute dream for FREE (due to a terrible plumbing issue and a nice insurance company) and I loved being in the kitchen for probably the first time in my life.  It was calming, and I could see results for my work quickly compared to other things in life, like losing weight, raising children and growing out bangs.

All that to say, despite the big beautiful house, there were other things about our Orange County experience that were challenging.  We struggled to find a community.  The church where we finally landed was wonderful but still felt foreign in many ways.  Our older kids felt like strangers in this new house that didn’t have all the memories and friends they had grown up with.  We were financially strapped and constantly worrying about money.

We took a deep breath and a step back and told God, “ok”.  We sold our big house, a TON of furniture and stuff that would never fit in our new little bungalow and moved back to Chula Vista, the place our family calls home.

It turns out that God can see a bigger picture than we ever can.  Imagine that! 

A few months after downsizing, Larry was laid off from his executive position and we were left without an income.  We NEVER would have survived if we had been in our big, lovely Orange County house with its ginormous mortgage and no support system around us.  God knew what He was doing apparently.

We have definitely struggled through the last 18 months that we’ve been back.  Months of no income.  An old house that is constantly in need of repair.  Something breaking down almost every day.  But, in the midst of all the uncertainty, we have found little hidden treasures. 

• Our children are so at home here and they are thriving.  THIS is home.
• We found a local church that is in the business of being the hands and feet of Jesus to its community and investing in healing and redemption.
• We discovered new facets to our dreams and vision for our future.
• We were near again (in proximity) to extended family and old friends.
• We’ve had opportunities to use our gifts in new and exciting ways.
• Our backyard is home to many birds and butterflies
• We started our own consulting company… together!

So, while there are days when I think if one more thing in our house breaks down I will scream or I long for the day when I have a master bathroom sink that works, I KNOW this is where God has placed us. 

Last night when our son yanked us from our slumber because a pipe under our kitchen sink was spewing hot water all over the kitchen, I thought I was going to lose it.  This morning I awakened with a cloud of discouragement cloaking all the goodness of God.  And then I felt his prompting to write.  I headed to The Nest (our office space in the back yard) armed with my bulletproof coffee and began this post.  And once again I see that God knows what He is doing.  He has guided me, through this “exercise”, to change my perspective.  At least for the moment.  I know that I am prone to wander.  

But I’m thankful in this moment.  And this is what I need to be.

I’ll transform her dead ground into Eden, her moonscape into the garden of God, A place filled with exuberance and laughter, thankful voices and melodic songs.  -Isaiah 51:3 (The Message)

What are you thankful for today?

Ground Zero

September 8, 1997 ranks as one of the worst days of my life.  A day I had to face the darkest parts of myself and admit my deepest failures.  A day I’d rather ignore, pretend never happened and bury under smiles.

Here’s the thing.  If I deny the moment, rebuff the memories and hide behind time, I lose the miracle of what happened.  The miracle of rebirth.  Restoration. Redemption. 

That Monday signaled our marriage’s Ground Zero.  It was the day that, dazed and broken, we made the choice (and really, was it a choice? Maybe a spiritual shove…) to be a team… partners…family no matter what.  Despite the pain.  Despite the brokenness.  Despite the despair.

In the years since I am sure we have each wondered at times, “What was I thinking?”  Trauma doesn’t stop once the tragic defining moment is passed.  It carries a ripple effect through each day, month, year until the ripples get further and further apart and you realize you are still afloat and the swells are softer, smaller and safer.

This was no bootstrap accomplishment.  This was divine intervention.  Make no mistake. I am still the damaged, difficult person I am. 

But God.

But grace.

Today I thank God for Ground Zero.  I hold it in my heart with a somewhat uneasy, but gentle recognition that Ground Zero was our kairos moment.

Who You Say We Are

My heart is breaking today.  One of our children is in crisis.  This child, through no fault of their own, struggles with the neurodevelopmental and behavioral effects of Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder as well as co-occurring mental illnesses.  The inability to reason effectively or make wise choices has added drug abuse to the list of issues.

Today I cried out to God.  We love our child.  We want the absolute best and we will continue to advocate for our children even if we are rejected because in this case our child cannot advocate on their own.  This child was adopted into our family “No Matter What”.  That is how we operate.

This is my lifeline today.  I am clinging to its message and clinging to the truth that is we are not our diagnoses.  We are not what others may label us.  We are not our past.  Hallelujah, we (and our child) are who HE says we are.

Oh how great is the love
The Father has lavished on us
That we should be called The children of God
Oh how great was the cost
The Father was willing to pay
So we could be called the children of God

And all that we can say is thank you, Thank you
And all that we can say is thank you, Thank you

We are your sons
We are your daughters
Hallelujah, we are who You say we are
So we lift our hands
And cry Abba Father
Hallelujah, we are who You say we are
Hallelujah, we are who You say we are

Oh how great is your amazing grace
That took us as orphans and slaves
And made us your heirs, And gave us Your name
There's nothing more we could ever do
You finished it all on the cross
Then rose from the grave
And brought us with You

Written by Steven Chapman • Copyright © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Abba Daddy

Last Sunday my brother preached on Luke 11:1-13 (Typically known as the Lord’s Prayer, although some have coined the term, “The Disciples’ Prayer”).  The message was comprehensive but I just couldn’t get past the very first point – The Lord’s Prayer reminds us of our identity.  When Jesus starts to teach the disciples how to pray, he begins with the word “Father” to address God. 

The actual word “Father” that he uses cannot be found in any other Jewish Literature to refer to God leading up to that point.  It was a term of endearment, “Abba”.  It was addressing God as we would address our “daddies”.  Very informal, familiar, intimate.  Matt remarked that it was interesting to note that Jesus starts every prayer we see in scripture with “Father” “Abba” with only ONE exception.  As Jesus endured all of the punishment for every sin in all of humanity in our place, he cried, “My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?”  The one time he prays “God” and not “Abba” is precisely why we (you and I) can now call God our Father as well. 

The problem comes when I forget that I’m a child of God--- adopted into his family in an eternal covenant of grace.  As Matt stated, “I forget that I’m a child of God and start acting like an orphan.”  As if I have no one who has embraced me “no matter what”, drawn me in and called me by a new name.  I struggle to remember who I am and who my “Abba” (“Daddy”) is.

The concept of God as a father has not always resonated with me.  My father and I spent many years in a relationship fraught with conflict (I did get his permission to publish this first).  In my childish eyes, I associated discipline with punishment.  I read his fear as anger. And I internalized his “teaching” as me never being “good enough”… there was always something I could have done better.  A picture of a god like that did not appeal to me in the slightest.  In addition I grew up knowing that I had had a birth father that was killed when I was 7 weeks old and it left a big empty hole in my heart.  I couldn’t imagine God or anyone else for that matter taking their place in the void I carried with me.  I was instead drawn to scriptures that highlighted his more “feminine” traits.  Verses like Matthew 23:37 where God says, “…How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings…” or references to God being our “hiding place” or refuge.  These made sense to me.

My dad will be the first one to tell you that sometime in my early 20’s God worked a healing in our relationship.  I was able then to take God in his entirety… both his male and female attributes. 

I think another moment when I found a new level of understanding God as my Father/Daddy was when we adopted our daughter from China.  In China the word for Daddy is “Baba”… so very close to “Abba”.  The first time I heard my daughter call Larry “Baba”, a shift happened again.  I had seen Larry parent all of our other children and do it well.  What made this situation different was the fact that this little girl, who had never seen, heard, or smelled a “white” person in her life, was calling this stranger, “Baba” not knowing that for many months this Daddy had gazed at pictures of her, prayed for her daily, prepared for her, worked hard to get to her and to finally give her a true home and a “Baba”.

When I thought of all that Larry had done and given to make this child his own I grasped anew all that God had done to make me part of His family.  All the “work” that went into bringing Madeleine home is nothing compared to what God did so that I could be adopted and call him “Abba/Daddy”.

So, what was my “take away”?  To continually remind myself who I am and who my Daddy is… to keep this as the lens through which I see everything else… my joys, my worship, my marriage, my parenting, my confidence (or lack thereof) and my trials… God is MY Daddy!  He is completely in control.  Everything thing that happens in my life, easy or difficult, tragic or joyous is ultimately for my good and His glory.