Stranger Things Have Happened



Because We Plan…and God Laughs.

When Matt and I first got married, we thought we would like to have two biological children and adopt the third one. But the young don’t yet know that life doesn’t always go according to plan, and a few years into our marriage we found ourselves with adoption as our only option to grow our family.

And I’d be lying if I said we were not disappointed. And broken. And scared. Nobody in our family had adopted before so we had no idea what we were getting into. But we grieved the disillusionment of having to abandon our original plan, dusted ourselves off, prayed fervently for wisdom and courage, and contacted adoption agencies to move forward.

As we processed our new reality, we realized we would be surrendering many of the expected things that come along with biological children: the excitement of the pregnancy announcement, the marvel of watching my body change as our baby grew inside, the creative gender reveal, the birth.  And it was a hard pill to swallow. 

When we decided to say yes to adoption, we also felt led to say yes to any baby who needed a home regardless of race or gender. So we were told from the start that our willingness would most likely result in us adopting a black or bi-racial child because the need was so great.

This meant that we would also be giving up something else we had not anticipated: that our baby would look like usBut after coming to terms with laying down all the other parts of our plan, I was fine with that.  

Or so I thought…until the moment I saw my new daughter for the first time.

Continue reading “Because We Plan…and God Laughs.”

Where Does Your Strength Come From?

It may surprise you to know that many people did not like King David. And often it was nothing he did but rather a product of his circumstances.

King Saul hated David while he was still a poor shepherd because God anointed David to be the next king. David didn’t ask to be king.

The Philistines despised David because he was a powerful warrior. David was only following God’s instructions into battle.

His wife, Michal, felt contempt for him because he danced before the Lord in praise as the Ark of the Lord was returned to its righteous place. David was only responding to the joy he felt.

Nathan chastised David for committing adultery and murder…Ok, that one was on David’s head.

But the Bible tells us that David was envied, mocked, mistreated, and misunderstood plenty. Many of the Psalms he wrote tell of his anguish, his fear, and his frustration with the people and the situations around him. He was hunted by Saul like a dog and there was a price on his head. David lived on the run and in fear for many years.

In 1 Samuel 29-30 we find yet another moment in which David was afraid for his life because of a situation over which he had no control.

Continue reading “Where Does Your Strength Come From?”

On Welcoming The Stranger

Today the sacred touched the mundane and simple obedience was rewarded by a glimpse of the loving care our God places into the most common of our endeavors. Today the kids and I experienced a divine encounter we didn’t expect when we got up this morning.
A couple of weeks ago we signed up as volunteers with Lutheran Services of the Carolinas to help refugee families adjust to their new life in the USA. Today we received our first assignment. We met with other volunteers at the offices of LSC downtown and were given instructions to pick up our clients and take them to the Department of Social Services to set them up with temporary food stamps.
I confess that I was nervous because I didn’t know what to expect.

Continue reading “On Welcoming The Stranger”

On Defining Patriotism

I am what you call a naturalized citizen. I am not US-born but I have been here longer than I have been anywhere and I have a certificate of citizenship and a blue passport. Bone fide American. As such, I have come to love this adopted land as much as I love the place that saw me be born. All this to say that I humbly admit that I may not completely understand the issue I want to tackle here and I hope you will be understanding and, if you choose to comment and share your perspective with me, please be kind and gentle if you disagree.

I’ve been watching the media discuss Gabby Douglas and how horribly she has been bullied. There have been many ugly things said about her on Tweeter but I want to focus on one in particular which has puzzled me and confused me since this whole mess started: the claim that Gabby Douglas is not “patriotic” because she failed to put her hand over her heart during the playing of the national anthem of the USA. Let me put aside for a minute all the concerns about race and gender that have plagued our discussion about the way Gabby Douglas has been treated and deal with this as a general issue.

I’ve been thinking about the word “patriotic.” What does it mean, anyway? It has been defined as “having or expressing devotion to and vigorous support for one’s country.” So, is it measurable? How do you measure devotion and support?

Continue reading “On Defining Patriotism”

On Sharing That Post.

The climate in our country is tense right now. Everyone has their opinions, their thoughts, their “side” on many issues. And social media allows us to make them known through our statuses, the pages we “like,” and the things we choose to share on our wall. Thank God for the first amendment, right? We can say how we feel freely!

But Paul, wise and discerning, reminded the Corinthians of his time that, while they had the right to do anything, not everything is beneficial or edifying. Some of the things we see on Facebook and Twitter are the opposite of beneficial or edifying. As Christians, we ought to make this our business and our concern.

So, Christian friends, before we hit “share” on that video/picture/meme/quote, can we ask ourselves these questions?

Continue reading “On Sharing That Post.”

On Being A Peacemaker.

I’ve been quiet thus far about last week’s horrible events, not because I had nothing to say but because I didn’t know how to put into words what I felt. I’ve been scouring the internet and I have found that other people have done a far better job than I could ever do at unpacking my same thoughts on their blogs, quotes, and interviews.

It’s been said already that we cannot let this divide us. When things like this happen, we tend to take sides when we should not. There is no right or wrong when it comes to violence. It’s all wrong. It is wrong for white police officers to shoot unarmed black men and it’s wrong for a black man to shoot eleven white officers. It’s all the same side of the coin of racism and hate.

It’s also already been said that we can believe that #bluelivesmatter and that #alllivesmatter and still understand why #blacklivematters. They are not mutually exclusive. We can believe in our police officers’ honorable and commendable service and sacrifice and still expect them to be accountable for their actions. We can advocate for all life and still understand why there is a need to discuss specific groups at times when they need extra attention.

All of that can fit into our hearts without conflict. But anyway, all that has been well discussed already.

My thoughts turn to our responsibility as Christians in this messy world and the one call I keep hearing and reading about is the call to be peacemakers.“Blessed are the peacemakers for they will be called children of God,” we are reminded by the Word we hold dear.

In response, many Christians, like me, do what we can to be peacemakers. Or at least we try. Because even Jesus-loving, good hearted people can often misunderstand what it means to be a peacemaker.

Continue reading “On Being A Peacemaker.”

Three Magical Words (or how to deal with a pre-teen girl)

I’ve been at this parenting thing for a decade now. I don’t know about you but I struggle almost daily and often feel like a total failure.

Parenting is hard, man, and anyone who says otherwise I’m willing to bet does not have kids. And the most bizarre thing about it is that, unlike most skills or processes in life, this one does not seem to get easier with time and you don’t necessarily feel like you are getting better with practice. In fact, it seems to get harder in some ways.

Sure, the kids are more independent and you don’t have to change their diaper, feed them, watch their every move. But they are smarter, sassier, require logical explanations, ask difficult questions, call you on your junk and are, overall, more difficult human beings to live with.

It can be exhausting.

My 10-year-old daughter has entered puberty. (Run for cover!) I never knew it could start this early but the pediatrician says it is not unheard of for kids as young as 8 to have signs of going through “the change.” Isabel is fully emerged in this metamorphosis from little girl to demon child teen. I told her she is like a roller-coaster: one minute she is happy, affectionate, interesting and the next minute, literally the next minute, she is grumpy, moody, defensive.

She told me I’m the same way. The nerve!

But, really, she is just. like. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The other day I was chatting with another mom. Isabel came up to me, laced her fingers with mine and laid her head on my shoulder. By the time I turn my head to kiss the top of hers, she let go with a “Humph!” crossed her arms and stomped her foot. The other mom and I just burst out laughing (which didn’t help, by the way) because it was an epitome moment: the epitome of living with a pre-teen girl.

Not long ago, after a day particularly difficult to navigate, I was begging God to spare me the next eight years of my life and bargaining about what I would trade with him (I’ll be willing to go all gray, Lord, if I could wake up one morning and it be 2024) when the Perfect Parent reminded me about the power of words.

Continue reading “Three Magical Words (or how to deal with a pre-teen girl)”

The Case of the Missing Silly Bone

Last night in the car my kids began to name all the words they know for butt, in English and in Spanish. It was a delightful five minutes, let me tell ya.

Then, of course, next came all the words they know for throw-up, buggers, and poop. By now even Matt is joining in on the fun. I, being the only adult left in the car, sat quiet and dignified in the front seat. Eventually someone, Lord I hope it was Noah or Isabel, shouted, “How about all the words we know for crotch?!” at which point I yelled, “No more!” and order was restored, followed by mumbles of the mom-is-no-fun variety from all involved.

Continue reading “The Case of the Missing Silly Bone”

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