I was cleaning when Harold the Helicopter caught my eye. Harold’s been sitting on my husband’s dresser for years. It’s the spot where he keeps his important things, a sacred place I don’t usually disturb.
“Dad can fix anything” was what my son said years ago when Harold first broke and he asked his dad to fix it. I remember telling Junior that Harold would be hard to fix. He emphatically reminded me that Dad Can Fix Anything.
So he gave Harold to his dad, who placed the toy on his dresser, among his important things to take care of. That was at least five years ago.
Poor Harold. I don’t think he’s going to be fixed.
At least he’s safe sitting on Dad’s shelf among The Important Things.
There are other things on my husband’s dresser along with Harold, a testimony to the honest faith my children have had that their Dad can fix anything.
Tractor wheels, rockets, Barbie toys, Star Wars figures, and Harold.
Time has gone quickly since Harold arrived among The Important Things. Junior forgot about him. He transitioned from Thomas the Tank Engine to Star Wars and now to ESPN.
So here Harold sits, but his presence isn’t forgotten.
It’s a testimony to the Power of Dad in the life of a child.
To a child, their dad is a hero whether he wants to be or not, wearing an invisible cape only children can see.
As a counselor, I often hear kids say, “I don’t have a dad.” What they’re really saying is, “My dad isn’t a part of my world.” He’s absent, not present, or even known. But the child still yearns for his presence.
In their eyes, Dad’s presence, or lack of it, is immeasurably powerful.
As our kids have gotten older, I still hear, “Dad can fix it.” I’m often tempted to tell my older-and-wiser children their dad really can’t fix a lot of things. But I hesitate, knowing their hero with the cape will at least attempt to fix it, even though he may not succeed.
For his kids, the process itself is powerful. To them, it says, “Somehow, my Dad will take care of me. If he’s not able to fix what’s broken, the effort itself will be bookmarked among “The Important Things” in life.
Just like Harold.
How do you let your children know you care about what is important to them? Perhaps it’s not fixing a toy, but how do you let them know what is important to them is important to you? I’d love to hear your thoughts!
To my children entering the world of adulthood – I recently wondered what I haven’t taught you. So here’s my non-exhaustive list of things I want you to know.
Be as wise as a serpent and as innocent as a dove {Matthew 10:16}. Use common sense when dealing with people, institutions, and situations. When in doubt, trust your gut.
Don’t use a Pampered Chef stone on an open flame. It will break.
Cleaning up after yourself right away will save you a lot of dread of doing bigger jobs later.
Don’t give out your personal information to anyone unless you need to for business, professional, or personal reasons.
Disable the GPS tracking on your smartphone when you finally can afford one on your own since we have deprived you of this luxury.
Be kind to everyone but you don’t have to be their friend if they are not healthy or appropriate to be in a relationship with you.
You can buy potatoes, beans, corn and tomatoes in a store. Not everyone has a garden.
Pay your bills on time and don’t carry credit card debt.
Watch for hidden fees in business transactions. You don’t need “all the extras.”
If it’s too good to be true, it is. Unless it’s answer to a specific prayer and you’ve checked it out with God first.
Pray every day and be in God’s word as often as you can.
Consult with God about your daily decisions.
If it doesn’t feel right, wait, or don’t do it.
Don’t buy meat from Walmart.
First impressions really do matter.
Budget for your necessities first and make sure you can pay for them. Get necessary debt paid off as soon as possible.
Stay away from people with bad pick-up lines. Or good pick-up lines unless you want to have sex with them.
Don’t have sex with anyone with consulting God first. He does have something to say about it. If you’re serious about your relationship with Him, you can’t ignore this area.
Open the door for others.
Don’t be afraid to take risks.
Don’t take stupid risks. Have common sense {see #1)
Build relationships with your siblings. You have relationships with them for life. See them as adults, not as who they were as kids. Don’t hold grudges.
Find a church you feel comfortable in, but don’t stay away until you find “the right one.”
Keep in touch with your grandparents.
Don’t say display anything on Twitter or Facebook you wouldn’t want a future boss, spouse, or mother-in-law to see.
Don’t throw credit card receipts or statements with personal information in the trash no matter where you live.
Don’t get into a car with a stranger.
If you can’t find a job, McDonalds is always hiring.
Marriage is hard work. Don’t think you can change anybody but yourself.
Extend grace to others.
Don’t judge people who were not raised like you.
Don’t expect your future spouse to be like me or your dad.
Earn your way in life but give to others and graciously receive when something is given to you.
Air-dry any clothes you don’t want to shrink or look worn.
Clothes pins can be found at a hardware store.
You can’t microwave anything with metal.
You need to brown a roast before putting it in the oven or crockpot.
Kids are cute but don’t have them before you are ready to give up your time and energy to someone else.
Worship God no matter what the circumstance.
Cheap food is not always the healthiest.
You need life insurance, car insurance, and renter’s or home-owner’s insurance.
Be cautious when walking in dark hallways. Park under lights in a parking lot at night.
Be generous with kind words as long as they are genuine.
Don’t order things from TV advertisements.
Cheap is not always better.
Expensive is not always quality.
Go to a doctor when you think you need to.
You can learn to do just about anything. Most of what your dad and I know we didn’t know when we were your age.
I’ve always considered myself to be a very patient person; even after I had children. I remained patient as my newborn cried through the night and I was up and down trying to figure out what she needed. I remained patient through the exploratory 12-18 month age when she was just learning the concept of “no” requiring me to be up and down A LOT in order to physically pull her away from the “no no” item(s): “Not for JJ”. Having made it through these stages with minimal collateral damage; other than a few extra wrinkles and a new found tolerance for sleep deprivation; I was confident the closer and closer my daughter got to the infamously labeled “terrible twos” that I was going to soar on through with no problem. Remaining calm, patient and loving…
But as any mom who has survived the toddler years knows, when children enter the curious “terrible two’s” they have a very special (I say clinching my teeth) and unique way of testing your patience.
They are relentless!
“Mommy… mommy… mommy… mommy….MOOOOOOMMMMYYY!!!!”
“I want… I want… I want… I WAAAAAANT!!!!”
“No… no… no… no… no… NOOOOOOO!!!”
They never say anything just once… it’s always repeatedly…repeatedly…repeatedly… (It’s possible my toddler is rubbing off on me…)
Whoever said “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” must have been a mother! And must have been referring to the infamous toddler years!!
It’s hard to gain perspective when you are living in the belly of the beast! And that is currently where I am living – right in the thick of it with toddler #1 who is about to turn three and wants to do everything “my-self!” and toddler #2 who is in the lovely 12-18 month range opening drawers and climbing on everything. Between the two I don’t know how I am able to keep any form of sanity. They feed off of each other and I swear each morning they make some sort of secret pact, “Let’s see how we can drive mommy crazy today!”
Yes, surviving the toddler years can be challenging at times (a lot of the time), but when I take a step back and force myself to look at the world through their eyes I gain some much needed perspective. Sure, the frequent, relentless reminders and requests can be exhausting and pull at my very last nerve, but I when I look at the world through their eyes I can see what a special (no teeth clinching) time they are at in their lives. A time when everything is new and exciting, “shiny and new”! A time when anything is possible! Though I am constantly intervening to prevent nose dives in the carpet and finger pinches in drawers and doors… my children just living life! Living free of limitations! Living without a care in the world! What an amazing place to be! I think any one of us do whatever we could to live in this place even for a day!
It’s up to us as parents to help them navigate through this adventurous time in life safely. Providing boundaries. Preparing them for the “real world”. Giving them the security they need to know you are there to catch them when they are falling and mend their wounds if they hit the ground.
Yes, loving a toddler means pulling your hair out and testing your patience to the limit… but more than that, loving a toddler means you are helping develop confidence in a precious little human atop a foundation of love they can fall back on for the rest of their life; and a structure of security they can always lean on knowing that even through the tantrums and the relentless demands you will always love them… always…no matter what…
Dear Jesus, thank you for my precious, curious, relentless toddlers! Thank you for the opportunity I have as their mother to help guide them through life. Everything is bigger and brighter to them now making each and every component all the more enticing to explore. Be with me Lord, as I create boundaries for them. Increase my patience threshold and flood my heart with love… your love. This way I know when life gets intense and a bit overwhelming I will have the ability to take a step back and see the world through their eyes… through precious innocence. Replace my frustrations with compassion. Empower me to rise above the situation at hand and see the bigger picture. Allow grace to flood my heart as I navigate through this time in my children’s lives. In Jesus Mighty Name, amen.
What are some of your “go to” tips for surviving the toddler years?
Raising kids is not so easy. Teaching kids to respect each other is a lifelong process. How siblings treat each other is crucial to the health of a family and a child’s individual development. It’s tempting to ignore it when siblings hurt one another or don’t get along.
But you can’t.
There’s not an easy answer to the problem because children have unique differences. They go through ages and stages. They each have their own perspective on things.
Sometimes I want to just relish in the happy family times and ignore the underlying things that brew. Doing this would be negligent. Isaac {Genesis 25} didn’t correctly deal with his sons Jacob and Esau and that didn’t turn out so well. Teaching children how to navigate through sibling relationships is a skill they can use in other relationships in life.
Parenting is difficult. There are times, even as an experienced counselor, I sit on my child’s bed thinking, “I don’t know how to help this situation.” I’m thankful prayer is an ever-present resource as a parent. I can’t always help a situation or change another person’s perspective or heart, but God can.
This week has been one of “those” weeks. A week full of family highs and lows. Do you have weeks like that? Weeks where you glow in the goodness of family life and then want to pull your hair out at the reality of it all –sibling rivalry, fighting, teenage melt-downs and hormones.
At least that’s how some family days roll at our house.
As a professional writer, speaker, educator and counselor, I interact heavily in social media. Sometimes I internally roll my eyes at easy “how-to” articles on parenting even though SEO data says it’s the best way to get readers. I’ve probably written some of those because a social media expert told me to.
I apologize.
There’s nothing “easy” about parenting.
That statement won’t get me invited on the Today Show. But I’m still raising my kids. Some days, it’s exhausting.
How about you? How do you impact your child’s relationships with their siblings? What are the stresses you experience and things you’ve found helpful? I’d love to hear your thoughts today because I hope I’m not alone.
Father, give each of us wisdom for the journey of parenting. Give us the words and counsel as we minister to our families. Amen.
I’m sitting on my porch swing taking in the day I hope will never end. The sun is on its way down to slip behind the trees in an hour or two. The flowers are bright around me and a breeze is on my cheek. The birds are singing, the cattle are walking to a cool place for shade. Another Sunday gone, another week comes to an end. So predictable yet so different.
This week my oldest son is graduating. Up until now things have been routine. Days have been predictable like every season we’ve walked through. Today as he shared in church, he reminisced on things that have influenced him…...Sunday school teachers, youth leaders, the support he and his classmates have received in being part of a faith community.
“Being in a small town, there’s accountability. Because if you mess up, everyone knows,” he said. A doubled edged-sword in ways. My son declared it instrumental in helping him make choices growing up. There’s value in everyone knowing your name.
Today’s not quite the same as I sit on my front porch rocking to the low bellows of the hungry cows. In the routine of life, somewhere my boy became a man. A man who has surrounded himself with friends who hold him accountable. A man who has chosen to love God not because we said so, but because he has learned of His grace, faithfulness, and unconditional love. A man who began walking out of my life years ago as I realized I needed to release him to be the leader God has called Him to be.
This week we will celebrate, say good-bye, and let go.
Every mother releasing her son knows its different than releasing a daughter. Somewhere along the way your role changes as you step aside to let him grow and figure out who he is. There are times to step back so he can develop strength. Times where you have to be strong and push him into the storm so he can figure out how to survive, all the while watching with a life raft ready at a moment’s notice. Times where you must step back and let his father instruct and discipline. Times where you still touch his cheek with a kiss because he is still a little boy inside a man-size body. Times where the best words are, “I’m proud of you.”
This boy has been a big brother, his sister’s best friend, and a son who has held me accountable when my actions or words did not match what I believed. He has been the voice of reason when needed. In the ordinary and routine moments, he has grown into a man who is ready for the next step.
I believe raising kids for moments like these lie in the mundane and routine, in the moments we live when we think no one is watching. One thing this child and I know how to do is forgive, trust, and give second chances. Important moments for us have included the words, ” Will you forgive me?”
I have two more boys to raise in mundane moments. Six years from now, sitting on my porch swing, I will be saying good-bye to my last knight in the household. I’m reminded to not rush these days on or to close my eyes to what is ahead. Each child God gives us is one to be fully seen and known. They are kings and queens in the making, not for our glory, but for His.
I’ll shed lots of tears this week along with other moms and dads celebrating the milestone of graduation. I’m thankful for each tear of joy, sorrow, and sadness along the way. Each one a part of the process of releasing a child to fly, lead, and grow.
Don’t miss the moments each day. Let the wind blow on your cheek as the sun slips beyond the horizon. Read a book, sing a song. Let your boy dazzle you with his charm or your girl snuggle in your arms. Shed a tear, laugh out love, and kiss a cheek.
And let the mundane and routine bring blessing when the last goodbye is said.
This week has been crazy. We’re getting ready for graduation and open house next weekend. The second time around isn’t so bad, but it’s a great reason to get things done around the house that need to be done. We’re operating is “Git-R-Done” mode.
Like cleaning, painting, and the other “normal” stuff that happens every spring at life on the Back Forty….planting garden, 4-H animals, tending these things while doing the “real stuff”of life like working and raising kids.
Tired has entered our vocabulary just a few time this week.
I love this kind of tired. There’s something meaningful in planning, preparing, “git-r-doning” that brings rest and peace to a soul at night. Getting things accomplished, seeing the fruits of your labor, and having things in order.
But one night this week, I went to bed early after doing nothing but working nine hours and bringing home Little Caesar’s Pizza. I was exhausted that day, mentally and emotionally.
Do you ever have days like that?
It’s one of the hazards of being a counselor. As I came home from a normal day counseling at an intermediate school, I walked and talked with God while my kids ate Little Caesar’s.
The kids I work with are heavy on my heart this week, but there’s so much more to it. Because their lives are normal for many families in our community, in your community. Kids who don’t know their dads. Kids who witness violence in their homes leaving them scarred and emotionally messed-up. Kids who understand their parent’s priorities don’t include them. Kids who are on the brink of making good choices or ones that will set them on a path for self-destruction.
I’ve come to believe one of the greatest powers in human connection lies in words of hope. Not false hope, but real hope.
Hope in choice.
Hope in what you can control.
Hope in seeing the good in a situation.
Hope in a future that is yet unwritten.
Hope in a God who is personal.
I sat in a meeting with a mother who broke down in front of three other adults. She had been strong and brave all year, but the restraining order she had against her child’s father told me much more. As she was leaving the administrator’s office, I took a risk, hugged her, and said, “God bless you.”
She sobbed more and clung to me like a life preserver.
The risk of compassionate words in that moment spoke truth to my soul.
We need each other.
The boy in my office cried because he’s not accepted by the Latinos and he’s not accepted by the whites. He’s mixed. He’s not accepted by his mom or his dad. A product of a sexual encounter, he doesn’t know family. He finally said through his tears, “I hurt. I don’t belong anywhere.”
Have you ever felt like you don’t belong anywhere?
As I came home with Little Ceasar’s and put my cleaning clothes on, I longed for each child to know what “home” is. I longed for each adult walking through life with childhood scars to know what it feels like to belong, to be accepted. I long for each of us walking through life in difficult places to have someone reach out and say, “God bless you for where are at today. You’re a survivor.”
If you’re a person who can give hope to another, let’s Git-R-Done.
Let’s take a risk in caring, in sharing, in reaching out.
Let’s be the hand of Jesus and words of hope that give life to others.
Will you do that with me today?
Will you stop the busyness for just a moment to give a moment of life to another?
God bless you, my reader, for the places you have walked and have received hope for tomorrow.
If you are walking in hard places today, let me pray with you on your journey. You can email me at yoderbl@gmail.com
Thank you to those who read Kaylee’s inspiring story, “Loving the Kids“. Her words were a gift because we’ve seen the depth of her journey. Like her dad, she’s not one to put herself out there. I honor her words because it’s a testimony to her love of Christ and willingness to go outside her comfort zone for a greater cause, wanting others to see the orphans she’s fallen in love with. I encourage you to look onto sponsoring a child a Hope of Life International by clicking here.
If you read the prelude to her story, you’ve witnesses a mother’s journey in letting a child go. A process with much depth, sorrow, and scars behind it.
Each of us have battle wounds, my daughter and I.
I hold back from sharing our journey where the conversation between me and you is anonymous. It’s an intimate, personal story. It’s my story. My daughter has her story. Both of us are Jesus’ story.
“You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good.” (NKJV Genesis 50:20)
*****
When my little girl came into the world, like your firstborn, she was all I dreamed of. But God doesn’t prepare us for the challenges of parenting, the things in our children that bring out the worst in us. God gave me a beautiful daughter with passion, a strong will, an internal sense of right and wrong, and wisdom in many ways.
All the things that reek havoc in a toddler and teenage body.
Do you have a child like that?
Even if you’re not a parent, you have relationships that challenge you. How do you handle them? Do you may shrink back, run and flee, or stay and fight?
I’m a fighter.
So is she.
“The enemy prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.” 1 Peter 5:8 (NIV)
I did the best I could as a first-time parent in moments that took me by surprise. Moments where both of our wills went to head to head. Christian parenting books didn’t tell me what to do with a passionate, temperamental child. Oh, I read the books {The Strong-Willed Child}. We even taught the parenting classes {3x}. But “the right formula” didn’t work for our situation.
And the battled raged on.
As we walked, climbed, fought, got up and walked, climbed, fought again, God worked in us and through us.
I’m convinced there’s nothing separating me from the worst behavior on earth, except for the grace of God and the love I have for him.
I am a selfish creature. Are you?
When anger, bitterness, pride, insecurities, and “my rights” rule in my heart, I become a fighter that can destroy myself and relationships.
But when I choose to let the Lord of the universe change me
As a woman, I’ve walked a journey that’s challenged everything I thought I knew about life, God, parenting, relationships, and the picket-fence life I dreamed of.
Things aren’t what we expect them to be.
Do you have expectations of life that have been shattered?
When the bottom fell out of my life and my family, I was faced with one choice. Choose to change or let my anger and bitterness destroy our family, my relationship with my daughter, and the hope and future God had planned for us.
A future where she runs to her Father for her identity and security.
*******
It’s easy to fight when it comes naturally.
But it’s hard when you’re fighting to change destructive behavior and trying to hold on to what’s most important in life.
Family, relationships and your character.
Are there behaviors you need to change that are impacting your health and the relationships around you?
There is hope.
Hope for our relationship came when I realized I couldn’t change her or anyone else in the equation. I could only change myself and what I could control.
I’m a fighter, so I fought for change.
I’m passionate,so I ran after God, declaring God’s work and presence I believe He promises in His word.
I’m strong, so I pushed through the guilt, shame, insecurities, worry, and judgment I wanted to run from.
Qualities the enemy meant for destruction, but God meant for good.
It was worth it all.
I’m redeemed by a God who knows the good, the bad, and the ugly, and still loves me.
I’m restored in relationships with my daughter and family. My sons know Jesus is real because they’ve seen two lives transformed before their eyes.
I’m a sinner saved by grace.
That’s really all I know.
*******
Each of us have battle wounds of some sort.
We can take those battle wounds and submit them to the work of the Living God. Or we can pick at the scars, preventing them from fully healing, keeping them alive and well so the pain never goes away.
How are you taking care of your wounds today?Are you choosing to let God heal them, or do you continue to let them fester and deprive your soul of peace?
It’d be my privilege to pray for you, no matter what your wound, no matter what you’re needing to fight to over come, not matter what relationship that needs to be restored. Email me at yoderbl@gmail.com. It would be my honor to bring you before the throne of God in prayer as your prayer warrior.
Thank you for listening, for reading, for sharing part of our journey. I share my full “Hope Beyond the Picket Fence” story of hope and restoration with audiences throughout the Midwest. It would be my privilege to share it with your women’s group, mom’s group, or church group to bring encouragement in areas that people are afraid and shamed to talk about. Email me at yoderbl@gmail.com if you would like more information.
Dear Jesus, that you for your love, your grace, the hope that you give us in our weaknesses and failures. Thank you that you are the hope we have for change in areas we need to change. Thank you that you created everything about us and you have the capacity to turn our weaknesses to strengths for your honor and glory. Thank you for the restorative work you do in our lives, and that your mercies are new every morning.
We love you, Lord Jesus, our redeemer and friend. Amen.
This post is written by my daughter. For the prelude to her story, read here.
It’s taken nearly a year to heal my broken heart—to relive the rich memories with a song rather than sorrow lacing my heart.
It’s been nearly 11 months since I left with a group of students from Liberty University to spend the summer in Guatemala. While there I had the opportunity to learn Spanish, live with a host family, and revel in one of God’s sweetest gifts to me—the chance to work in an orphanage.
We did ministry by serving the Guatemalan people in various ways. I saw pain, suffering, and poverty. I saw people who had nothing. I saw teenagers who weighed a mere 40 pounds from lack of food. I saw a woman with Down syndrome living in a trash heap. I saw a boy with epilepsy whose bed was nothing more than the ragged and worn hole of a hammock he shared with his other siblings.
But I also saw joy amidst the sorrow and healing among the brokenness. As I was serving in the orphanage I was honored with the sweet and precious gift of loving these children—the forgotten ones. These little ones had a cot to sleep on and tortilla and beans for their bellies but didn’t know a father’s love or a mother’s touch. For me, that is where the difference lies.
The street children and sickly kids may not always have a full stomach or a spacious home, but they have parents. They have someone who loves them—who is willing to go days or weeks without food so that their children might have a bite to eat. Some may argue with me, but I find it hard to discern which is worse— go without food, or not know the love of a mother or father.
The first day at the orphanage, I held a 3 year old in my arms named Andy. Instantly, I knew the warm truth that trickled deep into my soul: he was mine. I believe God draws different people to each other. He drew this precious bundle of laughter and mischief to me. I visited him in the baby house every day. Going on walks, we giggled, tickled, played, laughed and chased each other. All the little things little boys do.
A week into the trip, I met Antonion or “Tono”—the little boy who would forever change my life. I still can’t think of him without a knot in my throat but I have a joy in my spirit now. One afternoon I sat down to help this little 9 year old boy, who sported the crooked smile behind his tough guy facade, with his homework. The rest is history. He was my shadow for the rest of my time there. Mejor amigos (Best friends). I fondly referred to him as my “hermanito” and he replied in broken English “You (pointing at me) my seeeee-ster for-eever.”
When he said that, how could I ever go home?
I don’t know why God drew me to this certain child. Maybe it was his crooked smile, or the way he would jump into my arms when he saw me. Or how he begged me to just watch him play soccer for hours. Or the way he would take my hand and off we went to play marbles, cards, or just sit and talk. Other children could sit on my lap, but only if he knew where I was. Maybe it was because he reminded me of my own three little brothers who are now too old to sit in my lap. I don’t know, but what I do know is that he needed to be loved and that was something I could do.
I fell in love with Leydi and her sweet spirit, Alexa and her tough demeanor (once she knew I was there to stay, her brattiness melted away and she let me into her heart), Julio with the twisted leg, Cristian, the constant troublemaker who just needed a smile and hug, Elias, who wouldn’t sit still at school unless he was sitting on my lap. The list goes on…
For a time, I honestly thought I would never leave.
I was having the time of my life. My favorite compliment was when people asked me in Spanish if I was “mixed,” thinking I was half-Latina because of my tanned skin and dark features, but knew I wasn’t because of my blue eyes. I would proudly reply, “My Grandpa’s Italian” and beam because they thought I fit with the culture I was becoming a part of. I even got use to the rats and bugs. They didn’t bother me so much. I loved the simplicity of life there—the relaxed atmosphere, the friendliness and love of the people, and not having access to modern technology.
I was home.
The week before I had to leave, I hardly slept. I couldn’t believe the time had come. I’ll never forget whispering in Andy’s ear “Te quiero muchisimo mi niñito” (I love you little one) knowing he wouldn’t understand that the next day I wouldn’t be coming back. Saying good-bye to the other kids was painful, especially when Julio, my treasure with the twisted leg, looked at me and said “Adios preciosa” (Good-bye dear one). As soon as he said that, I kissed him, and walked down the mountain because if I hadn’t I never would have. Tono was the good-bye I was dreading. He buried his head in my stomach, squeezed me tight and we said good-byes.
I came back to the U.S. and cried every single day for the next month.My heart had never been more broken.
Life went on. I went back to school. There were days when I would weep on the floor of my dorm, crying out to God asking, “Why?”…. Why what? I didn’t even understand the questions in the depths of my heart.But God heard them and he allowed me to go back for 2 weeks in January.
The highlight of that trip in January was spending time at the orphanage. I saw the precious bundles of joy that I had missed every second I was gone. Once again, I kissed, cuddled, tickled, chased, and played hide and seek with my baby Andy. I held Elias while we watched a movie. I held tightly to Julio (the boy with the twisted leg) as we jumped on the trampoline the orphans had gotten for Christmas. I told Leydi and Alexa they were beautiful, I tucked Marcos into bed and kissed his sleeping cheek.
I prayed with little Tono to receive Jesus as his Lord and Savior. I took him down to dinner with me the last night and as the music played, he grabbed my hand and put his other skinny arm around my waist and said “Bailamos” (Let’s dance). The little gentleman whisked me across the floor. When we said good-bye a second time, I cried as he wrapped his little arms around my shoulders, kissed my cheek and said “I’ll love you forever.”
He is just ten years old.
I cried as I walked away leaving Elias crying on the steps of the orphanage at the top of the mountain. I cried as I knew I would miss seeing baby Andy grow up. My heart broke even more. I felt like Mary in Luke 2:19 “She treasured and pondered all of these things in her heart.”
These last few months, God has been faithful as he has graciously helped me release the bitterness and anger at Him in my heart for tearing me away from these precious kids. It was only when I acknowledged my bitterness and anger toward the Lord that my heart began to heal. It was only after this happened that when I looked at pictures of the children I could smile and remember instead of cry.
Now I have a joy in my spirit instead of sorrow in my heart.
Matthew 19:14 says, “Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”
The little children go to Jesus, not me. They are His and not mine. He loves them more than I do or ever could. Instead of mourning a loss, I celebrate the fact that Jesus knows each one of us and our needs individually. He is taking care of the children; He only used me to help him for a time, but what a blessing it was.
If you are a parent, hold your children close and tell them you love them because there are millions of kids out there who do not have parents—little girls who will never have a daddy to tell them they’re beautiful and little boys who will not know a mother’s loving touch.
If you have the opportunity, I challenge you to go and serve. The very least you can do is pray—pray for God’s children. That is what my prayer has changed to. Instead of saying “God, let me go back,” I pray “God, today may they know they are LOVED.”
I write this in faith that I am going back. I don’t know when, where, or how but God has told me I am going back. I claim that promise. In the meantime, I pray for the precious ones and trust God knowing that He is loving them and meeting their needs in a greater way than my simple love ever could.
Romans 13:8 “Let no debt remain outstanding except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law.”
How are you living that out in your own life today?
If you would like to sponsor one of the orphans at Hope of Life Ministry, please contact them and begin a relationship with one of these children that will change your life and theirs. Click here for more information.
Today I’m posting an article at Not Alone Mom on the process of releasing our children. Last year at this time, I wrote the following post as my daughter came home from college only to turn around to leave for Guatemala for the summer. I knew in my heart it would be a life-changing experience for her. A deal-maker or a deal-breaker for this girl who told me since she was 17 that she was called to be a missionary.
Kaylee went on a mission trip to Mexico her Junior year in high school. She spent Christmas Day of 2008 in an orphanage. In scholarship applications she wrote her senior year, she explained her passion to work with children in orphanages. She devoured biographies of missionaries, beginning with Jim Elliot, who impacted her life.
Much to my dismay, I realized she was serious, God was serious, and I needed to let go of the plans I had for my firstborn, because He has a call on her life.
I’ve asked her to share her experience in my Inspiring Stories series I will post this weekend. I knew when I put my girl on the plane last May, she wouldn’t return the same. It’s true. She returned to Zacapa in Decemeber and more than likely will be returning for three months next spring for her internship. Please join me tomorrow morning as I post her story, “Loving the Kids.”
In the meantime, here’s my story from last May, from a mom’s perspective, reposted from my former blog.
Good-bye is a Four Letter Word
Just in time to say good-bye.
That’s how much time we’ll have, my daughter and I, as she returns from college this week only to turn back around to leave for Guatemala for the summer.
“I’m ready to come home but not ready to say good-bye” she said in a conversation last week. Those words have weight in them. She doesn’t like good-byes. Making the good-bye transition with children is a process that never ends. I’m learning, though, when we keep our hands too tightly on our children, we don’t allow them to grow in the ways God desires.
God began teaching me this two years ago when my daughter was considering going to a college three states away. “Seriously?” I thought. She has been accepted to a good school here in Indiana. “You don’t know what you’re talking about” is what her wise mom thought. And just as audible as I could hear, the Lord said to my spirit, “I want to work in her life, but you’re standing in the way. Back off.“In that moment, I knew God was speaking to my daughter, and she was hearing Him. I also knew if she was called to the mission field like she’d been suggesting, going to a school far away would be a stepping stone for her and us.
Why does God have to plan so good?
So, our heart-wrenching-good-bye at the school over the mountain where she knew no one was just a stepping step, the first step, in releasing her to the life God has called her to.
Step two of saying good-bye as she’s going to the mountains of Guatemala is equally as challenging. This time, good-bye is another step in a longer good-bye that may, someday, be for good.
With each good-bye, as I watch my child’s faith grow, my own faith has been immeasurably stretched.
How can I argue with a child who’s allowed the King to capture her heart? How can I argue with God about His will for my daughter?
Releasing to let go. Not easy, but essential.
Yet being mindful of my cousin who lost her own daughter serving in full-time ministry. The Lord called her home at age 34 just a few months ago. A good-bye never expected.
“I’m ready to come home, but not ready to leave.”
That just about sums up this thing called Life. Longing to be with him, but not quite ready to leave her.
Whatever your good-byes may be this week, may we all rest in the comfort of our Lord and Savior. Clinging to the good, releasing the rest for His glory.
Please find out the rest of the story, Kaylee’s inspiring story, tomorrow, here at Life Beyond the Picket Fence
the spot where he keeps his important things, a sacred place I don’t usually disturb.
