merry christmas

dear little one,
how do i write to you
on a night like tonight?
when my heart is so full of you
but my arms are so empty
the clock on my nightstand reads 6:40 a.m.
your time, Christmas morning
i can close my eyes and go back in my mind
to this time one year ago
you were wearing those blue and white pjs
and you sat in my lap and opened presents
i want more than memories with you
there is a big empty place inside of me
because you are not here
this sorrow is a tangible reminder to me
of what Christmas means
God separated from HIS only Son
sometimes I think that christmas is not meant to be lived
away from your children
but the first Christmas was just that-
separation
the beginning of a beautiful redemption
because He loved us that much
my darling one,
I pray that this christmas
you know love
that you don't ache for your momma's arms
as much as my arms ache for you
I hear that one of your new favorite words
is hosannah
do you know what hosannah means baby?
it means "please save"
and this word that you love
is your momma's very prayer for you
i miss you
and i wish, always wish
that we could be together this Christmas
but you are held in my heart
always
i love you

It's Christmastime

And it’s been a bit more hectic than usual this past week. Last Tuesday night I spent in the hospital, my month-early contractions being monitored for a good fifteen hours before the doctors decided I wasn’t progressing quickly enough to stay. And here we are, a whole week later, seemingly no closer than before. I’m trying to enjoy the opportunity to rest more and get a few more things done before we have little baby girl in the mix of it all.

Our tree is standing tall in front of the balcony window, showing off its colorful ornaments and soft-shining lights. And underneath there’s a pile of presents that already seems a bit large for only two people.

Everywhere I go there’s a Christmas song playing in the background or a wreath making a door so much more inviting.

I’ve had my first Peppermint Chocolate Chip milkshake from Chik-Fil-A and a steamy hot drink out of a little red and white paper cup (I really am a sucker for holiday packaging—and throw peppermint in the title and I’m sure to think it’s good)

There are a million little things I love that say “Christmas” to my heart, sweet little nothings that matter so little and mean so much. I’m thankful for the blessing of each one.

And then there’s this-
“But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,
Though you are little among the thousands of Judah,
Yet out of you shall come forth to Me
The One to be Ruler in Israel,
Whose goings forth are from of old,
From everlasting.”

Incredible, wondrous love. And I’m gifted with celebrating year after year this promise fulfilled, the Hope and Light of the world. And like little Bethlehem, though I’m just one of many, still He made me His.

Our Father truly does give such good gifts.

Hannah

by Alanna

Tonight my heart is really full of a few things. Mainly it is full of little one. The only little one I've ever had. My heart's always full of him, but sometimes it swallows up everything else and missing him is all I can feel. I've had a few days like that this past week. It's painful to me, and I've never known how to grieve well with hope still inside of me. I can't hide my sorrow, and I can't explain it. It leaves me feeling empty, bereaved, alone. I can't predict when my tears will come and lately they come again everyday. That's been my story lately, but sorrow is not what I want to write about tonight.

God's been showing me a lot lately through the story of Hannah and Samuel. So amazed at Hannah's faith, her genuine lament, her thankful heart and her spirit that sang praise to the Lord when He answered her prayer. And then her heart of total surrender when she gave that prayer right back to her Lord- because He was worthy of even the thing most dear to her heart.

It's not just about surrendering though. Its about being real and crying out to God to fulfill the desires that He's placed there. And in the midst of lament, to rest contentedly in His hands, that our will might be one with His.

"And shall I pray Thee change Thy will, my Father,

until it be according unto mine?

But, no, Lord, that never shall be, rather

I pray Thee blend my human will with Thine.

I pray Thee hush the hurrying, eager longing,

I pray Thee soothe the pangs of keen desire-

See in my quiet places, wishes thronging-

Forbit them, Lord, purge, though it be with fire.

And work in me to will and do Thy pleasure

Let all within me, peaceful, reconciled,

Tarry content my Well-Beloved's leisure,

At last, at last, even as a weaned child."

-Amy Carmichael

By Mary

It’s been two years since I held you close and we played together in the sunshine. Two years have gone by since the words “I love you” escaped my lips and had the chance to reach your ears. But not a day has gone by without my heart whispering it across all the miles and all this time that keeps us apart.

I never expected for you to be mine for always. When that dream flashed swiftly through my thoughts, I knew it wasn’t what God had in store for you, for me. But you were mine to treasure each precious minute we spent together, each time you made me bubble over with laughter, floored me with your questions, drove me crazy your disobedience.

And I learned something from the bitterness of leaving you [to this day the hardest thing I’ve ever done]: every moment is a precious gift to treasure for what it is, rather than what it’s not.
So little ones, I’m treasuring today each hard moment away from you-away from my home, my family, my friends. I’m treasuring the moments you spend today with the families God has given to so many of you, treasuring the things He has planned for each of your lives. I’m counting the blessings of times with my husband, time to play with a silly fluffy puppy, time to carry a child inside, opportunity to form new friendships.

I miss you today, like every day. And I’m thankful to have you to miss.

fears

by Alanna

The more news I get from across the ocean, the more I tend to let fear choke me. Good or bad news, it makes no difference really. My mind runs with it and my thoughts spiral in never ending circles of questions and plans and scehemes and a multitude of "what ifs". I lay down at night exhausted, and I wake up feeling even more emotionally spent. In my dreams I'm always going back. As I'm packing my bag, or arriving at the airport, or sometimes even after I've tasted one glorious day there, someone tells me I have to stay here in America. And my heart sinks and I know its true. I wake up to a dream like world where I can't see my little one anywhere. And I fight the tears and sometimes I just let them come and don't care who sees.

This is a choice I make. This fear and these thoughts running in never ending circles through my head. I want wisdom. I want God to tell me what to do. Stay here. Go back. Always I'm fighting but I don't know how and I want God to show me. But most often He asks me to wait. He leaves me in the dark, and sometimes I beat on the door and scream but it does no good and it only tires me out. God is here with me, in the dark. He has never left. And when I'm too worn out I let go again. Choose to trust again. And rest in Him, again. This is the only choice He leaves me with- trust. And I don't know why I so often forget. I have to be surrendered. All the obstacles that I see, they can only be removed by God. He is our miracle worker. [just now my mom drops a piece of mail next to the computer. The envelope reads "I have made you...I will not forget you." -Iaiah 44:21]

Last night I opened Spurgeon's morning and evening to the next page in April. It is about fear. "By thy power, O blessed Spirit, my heart shall be exceeding glad, though all things should fail me here below." This is what I want to be. Excceding glad, even when all my plans and schemes fail me. Freed from fear when I choose to trust and to believe that God is still in control.

precious one

by Alanna

Afraid to love

Something that could break

Could I move on

If you were torn away?

And I'm so close to what I can't control

I can't give you half my heart

And pray He makes you whole

You're gonna have all of me

You're gonna have all of me

'Cause you're worth every falling tear

You're worth facing any fear

You're gonna know all my love

Even if it's not enough

Enough to mend our broken hearts

But giving you all of me is where I'll start

I won't let sadness steal you from my arms

I won't let pain keep you from my heart

I'll trade the fear of all that I could lose

For every moment I share with you

Heaven brought you to this moment, it's too wonderful to speak

You're worth all of me, you're worth all of me

So let me recklessly love you, even if I bleed

You're worth all of me, you're worth all of me

-Matt Hammitt

"Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand."

-God

236th Marine Corps Birthday Ball

By Mary

"On November 10, 1775, a Corps of Marines was created by a resolution of the Continental Congress. Since that date, many thousand men have borne the name Marine. In memory of them, it is fitting that we who are Marines should commemorate the birthday of our Corps by calling to mind the glories of its long and illustrious history."--John A. Lejeune, 13th Commandant of the United States Marine Corps, November 1st 1921.

My Facebook newsfeed this last week has been filled with great pictures of various friends I've made in the last year all dressed up in their formal gowns and "dress blues", going out to celebrate the 236th birthday of the Marine Corps.

I love this side of the Marine Corps--the heritage and traditions, the celebration of courage and sacrifice, faithfulness, brotherhood. The birthday ball is a night to remember these things with honor.

90 years ago Lieutenant General Lejeune directed that "a reminder of the honorable service of the Corps be published by every command, to all Marines throughout the globe, on the birthday of the Corps."

So they do. Marines are good at following orders. Every year, every unit hears Lieutenant General Lejeune's "birthday message" even in combat zones.

And for every birthday celebration possible, there's a lot of extra hoopla thrown in. There's the traditional birthday message from the current Commandant of the Marine Corps, recorded on video to be shared at every ball. There's the guest of honor, to give a speech you hope won't be boring. There's the cake cut with sword and the first pieces shared amongst the guest of honor and the oldest and youngest Marines present. There's the empty table set for one, to honor the fallen. And there's all three verses of the Marine's hymn.

This was only my second ball, still trying to get used to mingling with mostly strangers, this year in a crowd of about 450, and connecting faces with all the names and stories my husband has shared with me the past four months.

The Commandant's message was great. The Marine sharing Lejeune's message knew it by heart and delivered it beautifully. The guest of honor was engaging. We had part of the US Marine Band and bagpipe players, kilts and all. And we had all the right people at our table, thanks to knowing one of the event organizers.

Sometimes I feel like maybe I'm starting to get a little broken in to this whole business of being a Marine wife.

bits and bobs

By Mary

I've come across the phrase "bits and bobs" several times in the past few weeks, due mostly to refreshed correspondence with friends from other parts of the world--and it happens to describe perfectly the thoughts of my mind.

Like how I love the different shades of fall, pressed thickly one upon the other in a forest of trees or how I really don't mind having to take our dog for a walk every morning when I get to see a cotton candy sky of blue and pink above me.

Or how I wish my hair would grow long faster and how I have far too many doctor's appointments written on the calendar.

Or how I miss my friends and am thankful to have new ones here.

Or how the little parts of life can mean so much, and sometimes just making the most of what you have or don't have makes all the difference. And not just putting a good face on it, but appreciating the beautiful things and facing the things that bother me, maybe even making some space in my heart to be thankful for them as well. For that's the one lesson this week standing out to me clear as a star in a blue velvet sky: even in the things that seem smallest to my human mind, there's such great purpose, for there's always opportunity to be like Christ.

I'm realizing more every day that there's nothing bigger or better I could ever ask for than that.

dying

by Alanna

This morning I took the twins out walking in the leaves. One stomped happily; one sat down in the middle and laughed with head thrown back, whacking the leaves all around him. I always thought I didn't like the idea of winter coming. Dying everywhere, leaves letting go and tumbling to the ground. It is beautiful now but so sad. This has been on my heart though-

Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat

falls into the earth

and dies,

it remains alone;

but if it dies, it bears much fruit

This dying to self, this letting go, this surrender. It is painful and I crave the safety of the branches and want to cling tight. But Jesus called us to die to ourselves. And that means surrendering my will to His. To place my little life into His hands. To sacrifice my will and believe that He is the Resurrection and the Life. Paul doesn't only write about crucifixion, he writes that he lives now by faith. And if to remind us at the end, he adds that his trust is in the One who submitted to crucifixion Himself, on our behalf. The One who is trustworthy.

I have been crucified with Christ;

and it is no longer I who live,

but Christ lives in me;

and the life which I now live in the flesh

I live by faith in the Son of God

who loved me and gave Himself up for me

stars

by Alanna

Tonight we drove out east to see the stars. Hard to do in the city. Sometimes I forget that beyond those clouds and pollution, there is a huge starry firmament. Breathtakingly beautiful. Laying on the cold hard ground [I'm miles from where you are], comforter pulled tight around me, thinking. We had gone to watch a meteor shower, but I didn't see any meteors. The clouds and my thoughts distracted me, so I stared at the stars and wondered at the beauty of them, and wondered at the God who creates such beauty. [these are the arms that hold the heavens, they are holding you and me]. Wondering. What happens when my will crosses the will of the Sovereign Lord? I want to live joyfully surrendered, open-handed. I cried tonight, for my little one far away. Because love fills my heart to bursting and my only outlet tonight is tears. I want to understand how to mourn and not give fear a foothold. To grieve trusting. Because if I let it, the sorrow can overwhelm me and the questions become doubts, and the doubts can turn into despair and bitterness can enter. But why doubt? Deep down, I know that God sees. Somehow, laying out there in the cold, I was reminded of that. While I watched the stars, my little one was at preschool. Learning about His Father's love, loving and being loved. God has always taken care of him. He always will. And the God who created all those stars, carried our sorrows. The maker of the stars is trustworthy and worthy of praise.

I feel drained. Empty. Dragging. It's a morning I'd just like to spend in bed indefinitely.

My pregnancy has caught up to me a little bit, now that I've finally really begun to show. Some aches here and pains there...plenty of baby kicks to catch me by surprise. But it's not any physical strain that's leaving me so dry.

Is it the change in the weather? My heart turned again to South Africa, to home, to places in the world I've never seen for myself as soon as the leaves began to change while the breezes spoke cool gentle words of fall. But is it homesickness that steals the life from me? The steady love for children of my heart spread far across the globe? Wander-lust? What is it that leaves me feeling so powerless with not a drop of life or love to give to anyone? Maybe I've simply let myself drift away from the abundance of God, the life in His words, His power and His love.

So prone to wander, my little heart. Such a poor example of faithfulness--yet how clearly I can see His when again and again He faithfully takes back my straying heart to teach me to walk in the paths of life.

10/17/11

did i ever tell you how beautiful you are?

i am so proud of you

and the little boy you are growing up to be

the days pass here

far away from you

but my heart remains yours

and my thoughts everyday

are full of you

while others might not see

you are my precious one

i love you

missing you baby

always

did you know?

the One who loves you

even more than i do

is taking care of you

you will be safe in His arms

a time to treasure

by Alanna

after 5 springs in a row
i get to see my first fall
and in Colorado too
it is unbelievabely beautiful
sometimes I am honestly bowed down in thankfulness and awe
that we get to live in such a beautiful world
[thank you Jesus]

i have received hopeful news
at last
from the other side of the world
and concerning the son of my heart
not conclusive news
no guarantees
just a small bit of hope

it excites me and it terrifies me
because i think i've come to realize
how little control i have over things, really
my life could turn upside down
or it could stay much the same
the important thing is that Someone is in control
He will take me where He wills
and do what He wants
and today i am okay with that
because He is utterly trustworthy
proven again and again
His love never fails

in the meantime
i am finally, slowly learning
thankfulness here
sitting with my family near the fire
riding bikes through crunchy leaves with little sisters
laughing with the twins i'm priviledged to nanny
kissing amirah goodnight
talks with my parents
the bookstore with my brother
[if i had no more time
no more time left to be here
would we cherish what we had]

sometimes i can be so impatient
to get back to africa
and i forget that that is what I feel called to
for life
so why not treasure what i have here
while i still have it?

Fall decorations scatter throughout the house, bright patches of golden yellows and reds, oranges and browns. The colder weather has come along with it, with slippers and jackets and fuzzy blankets. The trees are beginning to turn, dropping leaves across the sidewalks to match those on our mantel.

A dear friend has been and gone, leaving behind sweet memories, tasty concoctions mixed up in the kitchen together, and dozens of challenging thoughts. God is good to me, to give me such a purposeful friend who really makes me think instead of drifting through life. Our eight day together were so incredibly encouraging to my heart and soul.

How precious just to share the small things of life with the ones you love.

Today I'm remembering to be thankful for the small things...remembering just how important they are after all.

9/21/11

I'm leaving on an airplane in just some hours. Flying to Idaho to rejoice with a dear friend on her wedding day! So thankful that God gives times like this.

I'm not sure why I'm still up, avoiding the packing I have yet to finish. Today I went to the bank, and after dropping off my brother across the street, I spent some time sitting in a drive thru by myself. I glanced in the rear view mirror, habit, but of course he wasn't there. My mom instinct looks for him everywhere, even as the empty feeling in my chest reminds me that he isn't here. He is far away tonight.

It's strange, this week two of my friends are also flying places. One to meet my dear Mary, who I haven't seen in over a year now. The other is flying to my little one, back to Africa. So thankful for them, all of these journeys that God is simultaneously orchestrating. Although sometimes I wonder [why?]

Recently, I've felt in my spirit that God wants me to pray about moving back to South Africa. [no, not visiting. yes, moving] So I guess intead of packing tonight, I'm looking up job openings for a preschool teacher there. Of course, God wanting me to pray is not God sending me. My heart and hopes move too fast sometimes. Many miracles would still have to happen for this to even be possible. And of course I'm here for a while yet, committed to a job with two amazing kiddos. But I am taking the next scary step of asking, pressing in to His heart a little deeper, wondering what plans He has for this thing He's put on my heart now.

by Alanna

[thank you Jesus]

This weekend, in the midst of all heartache and sorrow, this answer to prayer lit up my day. Gifted me with tears of joy. This little boy, after being an orphan for 4 long years, finally has a daddy. And with his little brother too! All the prayers for him, all the love in my heart, the ache for him to experience the love of an earthly father, all answered.

[God is writing you a beautiful story precious one]

[all smiles]

Sugar and spice and everything nice...that's what little girls are made of.

And that's what we'll be having sometime in January...

Let love be without hypocrisy.
Abhor what is evil.
Cling to what is good.
Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love,
in honor giving preference to one another;
not lagging in diligence,
fervent in spirit,
serving the Lord;
rejoicing in hope,
patient in tribulation,
continuing steadfastly in prayer;
distributing to the needs of the saints,
given to hospitality...
Do not be overcome by evil,
but overcome evil with good.

9/6/11

dear little one,

today i mailed your blanket
the one i've been making all summer long
i had to pack it in a box and i couldn't fit
so i sent it without me
i wish i could be there to give it to you
we'd play peekaboo and then you'd run to my arms
and we'd laugh and laugh

the geese are flying south
i saw them yesterday overhead
and i wished i had wings because i'd join them
and fly to you

the colder the days get
the more i'm reminded that this is the time of year
that i'm supposed to go to your country
[the distance is quite simply much too far for me to row
it seems farther than ever before]

my heart aches and longs and sometimes
i think it will burst out of me
because it can't stand to be so far from you
my little love
[i need you so much closer]

i went to the police station and got fingerprinted for a preschool lab
and remembered back to one year ago
and the year before that
at that same spot, getting paperwork done
so i could fly to you

i am so proud of you
the way you've grown
the things you've learned
your heart of joy
your first "i love you"

baby i have missed so much
it has been too long
don't grow up too fast without me

i hope you never hurt the way i do
i hope you don't miss me
but i hope that you remember
that you are loved

and your momma holds your heart in hers

concrete and swings

by Alanna

Two weeks ago I started college again. So now its back to the mundane things of life. Work, school, homework, fighting. Always fighting for joy. I know that this is where God wants me. Here, in America, for a year. Working and saving money, being a testimony to His goodness, learning patience, helping my mom with the little ones, being a part of my family's life again. I am so thankful for this time that He is giving me. I have a whole year of good things to look forward to. Friday night prayer meetings, Wednesday night chances to pour into the lives of kids here, Sunday morning place of encouragement and worship. I am fighting to keep my eyes wide open for His graces. But then of course, my heart aches to be in Africa. Most of all, I am homesick for my little one.

The day after school started, I found myself laying on our driveway. Face pressed to concrete, tears staining the ground, moaning my questions to Him who sees. Why am I so far away from the son of my heart? If You gave him to me, Lord, then why does an ocean divide us? And why here, why a whole year? Nothing relieves this pain in me. But also, I am sure that He sees. And something beautiful will come of this, because He has promised to make me more like His Son. [for those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son] And I claim that promise for me and my little one.

Some days later, my parents went on a mountain excursion for the weekend, and I found myself being mom for the weekend to my three little sisters. We packed a lunch, went to the library, and played in fountains. We went to the park and I sat on the swings with my little sister. Swinging reminds me of the hanging I do every day. Hanging on only the Lord and His promises, because really I have nothing else to cling to. And I started to realize then, that I can be so blind to the joy and opportunities in this year of waiting. If we have to sit on this swing with our feet dangling, why not feel the wind through our hair? Why not laugh and hang backward and stand up and spin around? My youngest sister taught me so much that day. And after our friends were done playing ultimate frisbee, we all gathered to pray together. I knelt on a rock and spoke thanks. Remembered back to the concrete, and my heart aches. In this joy there is so much pain. And in the midst of my hurt, there is also so much joy. If only I'd open my eyes.

"Hagar and her boy were dying of thirst with a well less than a bowshot away. What insanity compels me to shrivel up when there's joy's water to be had here? In this wilderness, I keep circling back to this: I'm blind to joy's well every time I really don't want to see it. The well is always there. And I choose not to see it. Don't I really want joy? Don't I really want the fullest life? For all my yearning for joy, longing for joy, begging for joy- is the bald truth that I prefer the empty dark?....Do I think Jesus-grace too impotent to give me the full life? Isn't that the only reason I don't always swill the joy? If the startling truth is that I don't really want joy, there's a far worse truth. If I am rejecting the joy that is hidden somewhere deep in this moment- am I not ultimately rejecting God? Whenever I am blind to joy's well, isn't it because I don't believe in God's care? That God cares enough about me to always offer me joy's water, wherever I am, regardless of circumstance. But if I don't believe God cares, if I don't want or seek the joy He definitely offers somewhere in this moment- I don't want God."

(One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp)

one for you, love.

By Mary

I love you more today than I could have dreamed when I met you on a small island that fall, surrounded by turquoise water and warm breezes. We played board games and told jokes and bought random candy at the little store across the street and it felt like we’d known each other for years, not hours.

I love you more than when a dozen roses showed up at the front door and I couldn’t help blushing bright red because “just friends” don’t do those kinds of things.

I love you more than when we met again in an airport at Christmastime and we were like a couple of tongue-tied kids meeting a stranger .You only talked to my family and barely looked at me the whole rest of the day.

I love you more now than when you said I looked adorable, the first compliment you ever paid me in words. I floated on a cloud when I went to sleep that night.

I love you more than the first time we said those three words to each other and I thrilled head to toe. We said them many times over every phone call we had after that.

I love you more than when I was singing lullabies to my last few darlings still awake during their afternoon nap on a South African winter day far away from you. Another girl came in, saying I had to see something and I wondered what it could be that couldn’t wait. I got a gorgeous basket of flowers from you that day and told the story of us a dozen times over.

I love you more today than on those days of misadventure when you were just trying to get on one knee and ask me to spend life together as your wife [and I was swallowing a bite of cheesecake as I said yes]

I told you the other day that my personality would be compatible with just about anybody but you had to have someone like me. We laughed and there was truth in it, but the truth is I need you too. Truth is you grow me in a thousand more ways than if we just got along comfortably. And God knew it. Maybe there isn’t just one person in the world a person could love and be happy with, but I know that God chose you for me forever.

On our anniversary you asked if marriage gets better after the first year. I smiled and said that I hope so. But in my head I wondered too, has it really been so bad? Because when you smile at me and hold my hand, all the fights and hurt and anger and the times we just can’t understand one another, those things don’t matter. I can see them making us closer by God’s redemptive plan.

Our story has been one of redemption from the start, of failures and habits and walls of distrust, of mercy and grace and beautification. Still He’s restoring the years eaten away by sin and the now moments of sarcasm and impatience, the harsh words that leave our lips unguided by His grace. Every time we talk it through and we both really share and stop to listen, a wall goes down. We know each other more; we took a step along His path, more together.

Our romance isn’t always like the movies, but I see your love when you come with me every time to the grocery store and push my cart, or listen to my girl talk when there’s no one else to hear it, or take me to a concert even though you’re tired. I see it when you work hard every day to provide, surprise me with a trip to Starbucks, or take our dog out for me because you know I’m just tired.

I loved you so soon after we first met and through everything life has brought along. But I don’t love you only for what we’ve shared or the things you do. I love you-who you are, who you’ve been, the person God is making you. I love you in your mistakes and successes. And everyday you become another reason for me to thank God, a daily gift for all our life together.

I love you...then and now and always.

when comes the rain

By Mary

The skies are slate gray, heavy-laden with water just ready to fall down in torrents as it has the past several days. There was a river of it running through the grass when we took our dog out last night and with dripping hair and wet feet I think again of God's perfect timing, His good gifts, how He sends the rain to the earth in it's season.

In the past month, there have been two special dates marked in blue pen on my calendar. One year since I married the love of my life, two since I met the children who stole my heart forever.

I remember so clearly choking back the tears when Alanna and I said goodbye to our families at the airport and ventured through security. I remember sitting, waiting to board a crowded flight, catching up on the last week or two that we hadn't seen each other much with our last minute preparations and spending time with people we'd be leaving behind. We griped about not even knowing the time because we left our cell phones. And we wondered why had decided to go to a city as far away from home as we could get in the world when we were perfectly happy with the lives that we had.

And oh how overwhelmed I felt when I wandered up to the nursery the morning after our late arrival with the dishes piled high next to the sink and baths underway and people going here and there with a job to do and however was I going to fit in here? I didn't know til months later that the hardest thing about the entire experience would be leaving.

And then our wedding--all fun and bliss and dreams come true. Two people so in love--and stubborn, impatient and oh so sinful. I've read so much about marriage and heard such great advice and somewhere along the line I began to think that it takes hard work to make a marriage perfect ntil I realized that a marriage is hard work--and it will never be perfect.

We have our starry-eyes and our giddiness and our fights and the times when our favorite person on earth seems like the worst one we've ever encountered and even in this first year our commitment has come down to such an ugly-beautiful as "I know God hates divorce so I won't".

So I look out at the rain falling in sheets and I see more clearly every day that God has a plan far beyond mine. Sometimes the rain feels sweet and warm and sometimes it's cold and stinging. Sometimes the days just seem so dry--and never is life what I expect it.

God reaches beyond my expectations and allows me to serve and live in beautiful South Africa, to love well snotty noses and spit-up and sticky kisses and dirty nappies, to break my heart for precious lives and grow me through the year and a half away from them.

He shows me His love for me, not just when my husband and I love each other as He's called us to do, but when our relationship shows us how much patience and compassion He has for us-His bride, His children, His people. What sacrifice for sinners, what tender mercies for His broken redeemed.

You visit the earth and water it,
You greatly enrich it;
The river of God is full of water;
You provide their grain,
For so You have prepared it.
You water its ridges abundantly,
You settle its furrows;
You make it soft with showers,
You bless its growth.

You crown the year with Your goodness,
And Your paths drip with abundance.
They drop on the pastures of the wilderness,
And the little hills rejoice on every side.
The pastures are clothed with flocks;
The valleys also are covered with grain;
They shout for joy, they also sing

--Psalm 65:9-13

lasting brokenness

by Alanna

So the news has finally reached American soil, and even though it hasn't made big headlines yet, if you search for it you can find stories of the drought in eastern Africa. They say that the drought has affected an estimated 12.5 million people. The biggest refugee camp in the world, Dadaab, Kenya, now holds 400,000 people. Children starving, political violence, families fleeing. Always, requests for money to help alleviate suffering. This reminds me of the disasters that came before- the tsunami in Asia, the earthquake in Haiti. We are faced with a choice, as always. It's not a hard choice though, really. To open up our fat wallets and write a check. To mail the almighty dollar as we close our hearts and turn back to our petty sandcastles. Will this be like everytime before? A small snippet in the newspaper, months later, explaining that the Red Cross actually didn't send that aid to Haiti. The harsh reality, one and a half years later, that the crumbled down buildings still lay where they fell. And all of us still walking about, one more callous added to our already impenetrable hearts. I pray that this time, we recognize that maybe money is not enough. That maybe money was just meant to be a start, and maybe God meant what He said when He said to care for orphans and widows in their distress. I pray that this time, we don't move on from another disaster. I pray that our hearts stay broken. That we remember and grieve everyday for the millions of individual God-images, that are starving to death all the time. I pray that our grief and our brokenness, move us to action. And that our hearts remain pliable, broken shards in the hands of our Creator. Mourning for the lost, begging God with tears in the dirt, for Him to come and restore all things.

1,000 words

(photo credit Tori Braun & Tricia Harnish)

...and if you're looking for something to really read, check out

http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/

life is too busy

by Alanna

Only because it's been so long since I posted, I'll write a quick update on my life for now. I have been crazy busy the last month, and also had lots of time to think on long, long car trips through 8 states. I have thought of multiple things I'd like to blog about- my sister's wedding, the way my family looks out for each other, the ache in my heart for my son far away, getting a new job and signing a year long i-promise-to-stay-in-america contract, beautiful reunions with dear friends. The list could go on. One month ago my little sister got married, and then just two weeks ago we moved her and her husband down to Texas. Home for a day, and then I drove up to Minnesota for my dear friend's wedding. Met my Australian friend there, and drove back down to Denver with her and the cousin to have more fun times. We went to the mountains on Monday, downtown on Tuesday night, and today I officially started work. I do plan to write (soon) about this new path that God has pointed me down. But for now I just have time for a quick Andrew Murray quote. Ironically, in all this insanity, I have been reading a book called 'Waiting on God'. It has been quenching, convicting. I want to be better at this.

In waiting on God, it is of infinite consequence that we not only submit, because we are compelled to, but because we lovingly and joyfully consent to be in the hands of our blessed Father. Patience then becomes our highest blessedness and our highest grace. It honors God, and gives Him time to have His way with us. It is the highest expression of our faith in His goodness and faithfulness. It brings the soul perfect rest in the assurance that God is carrying on His work. It is the token of our full consent that God should deal with us in such a way and time as He thinks best. True patience is the losing of our self-will in His perfect will.

precious moments

by mary

Today little one, I remember so clearly all the precious moments we shared. I remember all the times I told you I had a secret and how you'd laugh your growling laugh when I whispered "I love you" in your ear. I remember how you'd put one hand on either one of my cheeks and whisper the same secret back to me. I remember laying in your bed together, surrounded on every side by small sweet people-bundles--your friends and my heart, my world. How I miss you all.

I remember holding you and crying together when you were in so much pain. I remember singing and dancing together and eating the same ice cream cone. I remember the way your mouth puckers and your eyebrows come together when you shake your head "no".

I remember being late for my shift the only time because you stopped me on my way with your biggest hug, your sweetest I love yous and that same shake of your head "no" as you you told me not to go. And how you blew my misses the rest of my way to work...

I remember you running to me and your softness tight around my neck, clinging to my body, full in my arms.

I remember reading stories and playing in the sand, naptimes and bedtimes and singing a room to sleep. I remember the night before I left crying as quietly as I could next to each of your beds as the night grew older and my prayers poured out for every one of you, little children of my heart.

I'm so thankful I don't have to worry about you now. My own eyes have seen how you are wanted, how you are loved, how you're taught about Jesus. I couldn't wish either one of us away from where we are now. But I still miss you. And I hope you learn to treasure every moment of your life as I treasure every minute God gave me with you.

Happy birthday.

dark chocolate and photos

By Mary

I've always loved decorating, rearranging, making the house feel fresh and new with a few simple changes. And I guess I never really realized how nice it was to have some things just be stable...pots and pans always go here. Towels there. Something has to be on that wall because something is supposed to be on that wall.

I love the idea of starting with a blank slate but sometimes, I find it hard to fill up. My weakest point is hanging up all the photos and paintings. They sit for days, laying around where I can see them and muse on their proper location as I go about my day, stopping every so often to hold one against the wall and eye it critically. And then back they go to any flat surface that seems safe from puppy paws and teeth, to wait until another time when I can figure out what will be just right, what will give me the look I'm trying to achieve.

I'm like that in life too. It's not exactly that I'm indecisive, that I don't know what I desire. I can envision an outcome and set a goal. But what's the perfect way to reach it? I have to realize that the outcome isn't everything and the journey is just as important as the destination. Sometimes it's not just what will you do but how will you do it. It's not finding the next thing but savoring what's now.

And I want to plan, I want to do what's right. I don't want to mess up or do too little or fail in some way. But I need to want God and not just His plan but Him and relationship with Him.

Several days ago I unwrapped a small square of dark chocolate, took a bite between my teeth and read the little message on the inside of the wrapper. "Treasure the little things". It's not just an inspirational message but what God has been teaching me. Each moment is unique and worthwhile, a gift. Making the most of them is not about doing the most or figuring out the magical right thing to do but rather valuing who He is and what He's doing in every little part of life.

settling down

By Mary

In our new apartment, things are in slight disarray. The extra bed we have for guests is littered with pictures waiting for their place on the wall and knickknacks that haven't yet found a place to belong. And no matter how hard I try, our table is always half covered in things that don't belong.

We've been here ten days, plus our three day stay in a hotel. Furniture has been delivered with a bit of hassle and drama, our clothes are folded right where I can find them or hanging easily to see and I can stop unzipping a suitcase for everything. Every box has been taken out and it's all a matter of finding the right space for the right thing...which admittedly might take me a month or two.

But it's good to be settled, in some part, to have our own things, a place to call home.

God allowed our house in North Carolina to be rented, on the very day we moved into the apartment, such a load off my mind. But nothing else seems to be going easily...household goods damaged in the move, a sick dog, problems with my medical paperwork on the insurance company's side complicating finding a doctor, fruitless church-hunting. I missed graduations and birthdays and weddings I'd hoped to see in Colorado and really I just miss having friends close by.

I have a long list of things I run over in my mind to complain to myself and wish to be different. But these things are so trivial when I think of how God has blessed us. He's provided so much...and this whole last month spent with my husband, visiting his family and packing our things, long hours driving and all the stress has been such complete blessing. The fact that I've had no morning sickness through all the busyness. The fact that Nick's boss is willing to lend us anything and help us out in any way...that he and his family have been friends when we could so easily feel lost and disconnected.

God tends to do far more than I could ever imagine or wish for, even during the times I feel He must be ruining my life. And while I hope life will start to settle down as we settle in in Maryland, I pray never to settle into complacency or forgetfulness and never cease to praise Him for who He is.

the rain-holding place

by Alanna

On Tuesday night, God gifted me with a canoe trip, 2 miles up and 2 miles back down the Highline canal. With two guys to do the hard work, as well as the steering and directing and shouting out "branch!" at the right moments, it was a smooth and dry trip. The dark of night, water flowing under, small white roses, praises sung through tunnels. So many gifts all jumbled into one night, it was hard to even keep track and I couldn't thank God enough- just for those 2 1/2 hours. Praise God, the Giver.

The canal was really full that night. Water, held after the rain in that rut. Held for so long. It had rained on Monday, and by Wednesday it hadn't left a trace on the ground around. The earth might have looked greener, but still you had to remember the last time it rained. Remember back to Monday? The beautiful drenching goodness, all day long. God poured it out from the sky for us. And it is so easy to forget. Because the day after the rain, I look around and things can look the same to me. Situations unchanged; an earth with no lasting rain imprint. For that, I have to look in the canal. Even today, water still flowed there. A reminder of God's goodness and His gifts poured out for us. It is so easy to forget the rain, and yet it is held there for us all along. I want to live there, by the canal. To have a long and lasting memory of the rain. This is the rut I want to be stuck in- the one where my eyes are opened to His good things and I let Him take me where the current goes.

hoping

by Alanna

I have wanted to write this for a while now, but can never quite find the right words. Maybe that doesn't matter so much though. I have been doing a lot of hoping lately. A whole lot of that is centered around Johannesburg, South Africa, and the children I left behind. Some of them have been reunited with their family, some adopted into new families, and many still where I left them. I hope for all of them. I hope that the Lord saves them, that He adopts them into His family. I hope that they grow up to know His redemption and that they understand even now His heart for them and His desire for them. I hope he gives them families on earth to show them that love. These are all things I pray for them, but praying always leads me into hope. And hope is scary to me because it admits for the possibility of hopes delayed, hopes disappointed.

I hope for a lot of things here too. I hope for prayers to be answered, for direction for my life and the lives of my friends. I hope for God to be clear about what He wants us all to do. I hope that He will be glorified by our lives.

I also cling to hope that someday I'll adopt precious little one. That God would, in that way, bring to fruition these past 21 months of loving and seeking and asking for this. Hope is such a scary thing to have, because it involves heart involvement and in a deeper way than just asking or wondering about the future. Once I thought I had no more hope left, and then I noticed that I was still waiting, expecting something to change. When God puts something on your heart, it just doesn't go away and so hope seems to become engrained in you. I can tell when after the tears on the car ride home from work, my feet still hurry to the computer and I hold my breath while I check. I can tell when I take out the baby blanket again and work the blue yarn through.

And I pray and will myself to keep on hoping. In some ways, hoping for God to do this "impossible thing", reminds me what I am actually hoping in. Yes I want God to answer, to restore, to save. But I hope for this, not in this. What I hope in is the character of God. A God who listens, who is compassionate and gracious and gives good gifts. An all-powerful Father. One who knows what it is like to sacrifice His only Son, and who did it anyway to purchase our redemption. Because of Him, we are right to keep on hoping.

In Christ alone

My hope is found

He is my light my strength my song

This cornestone

This solid ground

Firm through the fiercest draughts and storms

What heights of love

What depths of peace

When fears are stilled

When striving cease

My comforter, my all in all

here in the love of Christ

I stand

moving

By Mary

The past couple of weeks have been busy getting everything in order for my third move in the past year. I'm thankful that everything finally seems to be falling into place--and extremely thankful that when the government sends you somewhere, you can also arrange to have them move you. So this move involves minimum packing on my part (thank the Lord)

By the end of the month we'll be in Maryland (which I've always said I should visit since my name is in the title)

We'll be trying out hotel living for the first couple weeks before our apartment is ready and we can move all our stuff in. I'm not looking forward to that part very much...and the whole process has been frustrating to me, not being my favorite thing to arrange in the first place, and having to deal with five different changes in schedule and plans.

I was outside with Allie the other day, thinking about not being able to visit home this month after all, about giving up our large, though still rather grassless backyard, about church hunting and renting out our house. And I thought too, of lessons I could learn if I would cultivate a heart for learning them. Like contentment in every situation. Being still while life swirls around and knowing that He is God. Knowing Him as my Strong Tower and my Rock, always with me. No matter who else I can or cannot be around at the time.

He gives grace for every moment...and of course I'm also thankful for certain things like real airports, wholesale grocery stores and fabric shops that don't require hours of driving to get to them. Oh the little things.

learning together

By Mary

Alanna and I started blogging together partially to keep connected as we were moving apart, partially to update others on our lives and the courses they were taking and mostly because our God is awesome. He has done marvelous things in our small, simple lives and how can we not talk about it?

We may not have amazing things to say, or write them in the most amazing way, but at least we'll be two more people talking about the most amazing God.

That's our passion, our heart. But how easy to lose sight of it, to lose the passion and the drive, the focus. When it's not cultivated, when you stop for a moment and look to something else. When you let some other good thing take the place of what is greatest. When you ask only for the gifts, not to know the heart of the One Who gives.

It happens quicker than you think and really before you realize it and you can't seem to find the joy of the Lord people talk about...because you're looking for the joy in other things, without even noticing it.

I talked to Alanna about all of this last week and I'm amazed at the way God seems to teach us similar lessons at similar times, even now when things have changed so much and we can't
talk all the time or practically live at each other's houses.

A lot of people who don't know us well look at our trip to Africa together as the definition of our friendship and I love that it's so much more than that. It wasn't the beginning or the ending but a stop along the way that changed us forever and brought us even closer.

And even in those moments when I get so lonely here, in a state I never thought about visiting, much less living in, I'm so thankful to have true friends to share my heart, to listen and love and understand and point me in the right direction, to tell me true things, even tough things. To pray and grieve and rejoice.

Today I'm thankful for lessons learned, lessons shared. And mostly, that I have a patient Teacher.

(updates on moving to Maryland coming later...)

reminders

by Alanna

I've been trying to look for gifts lately. I feel like it has been so long since I rejoiced to be alive. I don't like this path I see myself headed down- bitterness, cynicism, hopelessness. Those aren't things that the redeemed are known for. I want to mourn without a trace of depression, to be angry at the state of the world, without any hate. I want my heart to break for the orphans, but I want to live worthy of caring for them. And I guess this is a part of it. Practicing being thankful, asking God for joy. Anyway, in that spirit, I reluctantly agreed to a trip to the mountains on Thursday. Don't get me wrong- I love the mountains. But I'd gathered that this was to be more of a work trip, and construction isn't one of my interests. I hadn't been to the mountains in a long time though, and I didn't have much better to do that day. So I headed up with my dad and three of the brothers, and watched God's blessings, in awe, all day long.

The mountains in themselves are a gift. I can tell when we are really getting into them because they tower around and I feel so sheltered, protected there. Even just winding up and down steep roads, I can't stop looking at the cliffs on either side, and straining to see the blue sky above. It is such a crazy feeling to be surrounded by those giants. At what feels like the top of the world, I and the brothers went exploring old mining warehouses, and I felt like a little kid again. Feeling for handrails in the dark, climbing ladders and finding cannonballs. Then the snow, and the way it felt between my fingers. I hadn't felt snow in a long time- more than a year. With the sun shining, it was piled high along the sides of the dirt roads. Then we shot guns into a snowbank, and I sat in the open back of the jeep. Its something incredible to just be in these mountains. Everything is so beautiful, and for some reason its there that I feel closest, in a way, to South Africa. Maybe its the country, or the long road through valleys. Maybe its just that my eyes are so open- palm held out to receive God's gifts, like a little kid. Those mountains make me feel that way. They make me feel so small. God was big enough to speak them into existence, and I believe that He hears little insignificant me, standing in the valley and pouring out my heart to Him. But my fears feel not so daunting, my doubts not so logical, when I stand in the valley between these peaks. God IS still big enough to speak these mountains into existence. And He is still big enough to move mountains too. More beautiful still, He clearly loves me enough to place me there- in the midst of all that beauty, where He knew I'd find some sort of calm for my frantic heart. The mountains remind me that God hasn't forgotten us. On the drive out, I made a remark about how the sky looks so big once you get back into the foothills. And my brother said that the sky is always beautiful, we just take it for granted. Maybe it is that way with all of God's blessings. Thanking Him, tonight, for these.

for my little one

by Alanna

dear little one,
Happy Birthday. For some reason this special day finds you and I an ocean apart. It's one of the many things I don't understand about this world- why a mother can't be with her son on his birthday. It feels so wrong to me. Maybe that's why the tears come more freely these days. Somewhere on the other side of the world, you are just getting ready for breakfast. I hope that someone kissed you when they got you up this morning. I hope they remembered. That this day is not an ordinary one, because today you get to celebrate 2 years of life. I hope that many have told you "happy birthday!" by now. I hope you get to have a beautiful breakfast- maybe even something less ordinary than baby cereal. I hope that you get to have a birthday cake, and hopefully ice cream. Maybe someone will remember that you like chocolate best. I hope that you don't miss me much. There's a sullen ache in my heart, a gaping space in me where you've taken my heart and left a cavern. I pray everyday that you don't feel even a taste of that sadness. I hope you don't look for me at lunchtime when I used to come back from preschool and scoop you into my arms. I hope you don't keep saying my name and looking for me, because I am oh so far away now. In some small way though, I hope that you remember me. I hope you remember that to someone, you are the most beautiful person in the world. I hope you remember in your soul what it is to be loved, and that somehow you know that that love has never left you. I hope my love has made your heart tender. I want you to see someday, even half of the things that I see in you. The gifts that God has given you. The breathtaking way He formed you into being, brought you through death itself, and sustains you every moment. When I look into your eyes, I see beauty there. The beauty of God's plans. They've not yet come to fruition, but I want you to know the plans God has for you. Plans for you to glorify His name, to love Him and run hard after Him. You are a precious gift Teboho. I want you to know that not an hour goes by that I don't think of you. I plead with God to save you, to reveal Himself to you. I can't help but thank Him for you, and I pray that He nurtures and builds you up every moment. I love you with all my heart. I am so proud of you. You won't remember, and few others will, but it has been quite a battle for you to reach this birthday. Despite your rough start though, you were always so full of joy and laughter. I pray that you never stop being a fighter, and at the same time, that you always let God fight for you. I pray that today you will be blessed with joy and love from those around you. And most of all, that God would pour His love and grace especially into your heart. I love you my dear one.
with all my heart,
your mommy

all about life

By Mary

I have little motivation to write these days. My mind is busy thinking about accomplishing, more than about sharing its thoughts. I've been slow with emails, bad with letters and even preoccupied in person. And I guess now is as good a time as any to write all about my life.

I'm beginning to go through lasts when I still feel like I have so many firsts to experience. Our time in North Carolina went quicker than I imagined--and by that I mean a job offer in Maryland became an order which requires a move in three weeks. We'll be giving up small town life for the city again which in my mind has huge benefits and only a few drawbacks, though if we could find a place to live before we move, I'd feel much better.

We had our last night of Awana (our last one ever here) I cooked my last meal for the Senior Saints group at little Community Baptist church (successful, apart from the disastrous lemon meringue pie incident) and the days our ticking down as our last in our new house.

I've had plenty of firsts with the paperwork for things like renting out our house and setting up a government move. I had my first Mothers Day that I couldn't be with my mom...and also my first Mothers Day as a mommy myself. The newest thing in Parises will be debuting in January. So now there's the firsts of doctors appointments.

And today I gave Allie the first successful bath I've managed by myself and of which I'm quite proud.

My sister-in-law and I spent a couple days painting their house this week--including their nursery. The church out here has a full of pastor appreciation, with a big kick-off this Sunday. The ladies of the church provide meals for the week for the pastors' families and I'm trying hard not to forget that I'm making something next Tuesday.

Today is another day full of looking for rentals, cleaning and cooking and missing good friends.

This morning I shared a prayer request with Alanna, that I would depend on God and turn to Him not only when I'm broken or needing something from Him. And I this afternoon God gave me a little reminder to do just that http://littlepinkhouse.net/2011/05/deep-breath/

He is good.

by Alanna

[the past two weeks, I've felt like this...]

"How long, O Lord, will I call for help, and You will not hear? I cry out to You, "Violence!" yet You do not save."

"Are you not from everlasting, O Lord, my God, my Holy One?...Your eyes are too pure to approve evil, and You can not look on wickedness with favor. Why do You look with favor on those who deal treacherously? Why are You silent when the wicked swallow up those more righteous than they?"

(Habakkuk 1:2, 12a, 13)

[good friends have been telling me things like this....]

"You turn things around! Shall the potter be considered as equal with the clay, that what is made would say to its maker, "He did not make me"; or what is formed say to him who formed it, "He has no understanding"?

(Isaiah 29:16)

[i read lots in isaiah about judgment and wrath and death, and also in a seemingly contradictory and yet strangely comforting way, how God would be this...]

"For You have been a defense for the helpless, a defense for the needy in his distress, a refuge from the storm, a shade from the heat"

(Isaiah 25:4)

[someday...]

"And it will be said in that day, "Behold, this is our God for whom we have waited that He might save us. This is the Lord for whom we have waited; let us rejoice and be glad in His salvation."

(Isaiah 25:9)

[until then...despite all the confusion and doubts and fears and unbelief, i long to say this....]

"Though the fig tree should not blossom and there be no fruit on the vines, though the yield of the olive should fail and the fields produce no food, though the flock should be cut off from the fold and there be no cattle in the stalls, yet I will exult in the Lord, I will rejoice in the God of my salvation. The Lord God is my strength, and He has made my feet like hinds' feet, and makes me walk on my high places."

Habakkuk 3:17-19

By Mary

We went out on Pastor Ken's boat yesterday. I was the only girl out of the seven of us and I had hours to think and to tell God my confusion, my hurt. I ache thinking of my sweet ones' abandonment. Of Warren's family falling apart before it ever formed. Of Nadia and Similo, written off before a week was out. Why would God let them go through that? What happened to the prayers I thought He'd granted? Why does it seem to have to be the innocent, the helpless and yes, the Godly, who suffer most? Do my prayers even matter?
I wonder...but it's habit really, those prayers. And Who else can I turn to? I feel confused and even let down but I can't say He's wrong. I can't question the goodness or love He's proven so often. I can't say He's powerless. I can't claim to have any other hope.
Now is the time we celebrate His love offering, His death for our lives. His resurrection for our victory. The foundation of my faith which should drive me to my knees and lift up my hands. I can't exchange that faith for the hurt that I feel.
Yesterday as we sped back to the docks the setting sun played in our wake and I watched a rainbow sparkle in the foam at my side. His rainbow. His covenants are lasting and His promises are true. He is faithful.

Blessed

By Mary

Blessed are the poor in spirit,

For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who mourn,

For they shall be comforted.

Blessed are the meek,

For they shall inherit the earth.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,

For they shall be filled.

Blessed are the merciful,

For they shall obtain mercy.

Blessed are the pure in heart,

For they shall see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers,

For they shall be called sons of God.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake,

For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

[life is not about us]

the left side of the road

I started driving again. I don't have many places to go, seeing as I am now a college dropout and have no job. But still, there's the occassional trip somewhere. Always its a battle of some sorts- to keep on the right side of the road. My mind always leads me right, but when I turn down the road to our house, my heart always turns the wheel tight so that I hug the left.

In my wallet, there's a $20 bill and an even smaller R20 note. The pocket for change is filled with South African coins, and a lone American quarter. In my bedroom sits an empty suitcase. I emptied it almost right away, but never found the willpower to actually carry it down the stairs.

Tonight my mom showed me the baby blanket she's been crocheting. It's almost finished. A beautiful brown pattern with a creme border. For her first grandson. (I know his name and the feel of his hand in mine. In my memory, I can hear his laugh and can trace the shape of the scar on his scalp). Tonight I have so many questions. All kept to myself because I've asked them so many times that by now I know that there won't be an audible answer. Tonight I am just empty, and I miss the left side of the road.

humidity, homeownership and a little thing called change

By Mary

People may think I'm making it up or hyper-sensitive, but I can feel the moisture creeping back into the air these days--just enough to lay like a think layer of lotion on my skin and make my crackers grow stale quicker. I'm not looking forward to the sticky heat of the summer months.

Our puppy is running around with a plastic cone around her neck, thunking into walls left and right because we had the audacity to get her "fixed". I feel horribly guilty. But she gets payback frequently by using the cone as a weapon, trotting around behind me and smacking my calves with it or slamming it into my face every time she tries to give out kisses.

When we moved into our house, my husband and I were warned that we'd be spending a lot of time at the home improvement store. And sure enough just about every weekend we're wandering through Lowes, thankful for their 10% military discount.

First we decided to paint the trim on our front door, to make it stand out more. Simple. I told my husband I'd get it done in an afternoon. So I taped and painted and let it dry and painted some more. And in the evening when we took it down we discovered firstly that I'm not very good at taping anything other than a straight line. And secondly either that the paint the builder used on the door was not very good quality or we didn't let our paint dry long enough--it started peeling off with the tape. But after about an hour of damage control, the door was done and doesn't look too shabby.

We have a little front yard nicely covered in grass slowly growing green again. And we decided we wanted our backyard to match, especially after all the winter days of Allie's wet and muddy paw prints tracking all through the house. We went to our trusty Lowes to pick up the seed, rakes, hose and sprinkler for taking care of the beautiful grass we intended to have.

"It's easy!" people say. Rake it up, throw it down, lightly cover, water and wait. Five steps. Can't be too hard. Our neighbor even let us borrow his seeder. So after 8 hours of raking, spreading and covering I watered religiously every morning to keep those little seeds of potential moist and ready to germinate at the proper moment. We kept the dog off of it and my flip flops were perpetually caked in mud from moving the sprinkler through the yard of nothing but dirt and grass seeds.

The first week passed with nothing but a possible few blades here and there (which might have simply been the product of our hopeful imaginations) We decided it must need the extra week and continued to wait (slightly less patiently) That was three weeks ago now and the only thing that seems to be growing out there is the dozens of dandelion weeds I keep pulling up.

Our indoor painting projects went better and we have successfully,-without too much mess or mistake-painted our living room, dining room and kitchen.

I don't mind changing things up. I like the newness. But I like doing it my way and having control. I don't like the way life sort of does it's own thing and you have to go along with it and make the most of what you're given. And what's hardest is caring so much about the very things you have to be separated from.

Following God can be costly--but laden with such rich blessings. Everytime I think things couldn't be more wonderful, He proves me wrong. And on the days when my heart is heavy and hurting this is my hope--He is life and I could never have anything more beautiful than Him.

enlarge my heart

by Alanna

The only prayer I could choke out on the airplane was this.
Enlarge my heart.

Somewhere on the way home, I realized what the difference is. When I'm in Africa, my heart aches for and longs for the people at home. But that heartache never stunts my love. I never have a hard time with the children, letting my heart open up with joy and laughter and love for them. Somehow I can miss home, grieve, and also rejoice. I can love with a full heart.

But somehow, when I come home, the grief cripples me. Last year I could never quite figure out how to rejoice well. I hurt of course. I missed them with all my heart. The same way I always miss my family when I am on African soil. But the hurting didn't end there. It took my whole heart away, and left an empty space where there should have been love and laughter.

My biggest fear in coming home this time, was the empty space. I feared the long lonely nights of dreaming about my children. Of my mind wandering in circles, unable to sleep and only able to cry. I was afraid of not knowing how to love well. So my prayer of the last months has been that God would keep me from this. That with His strength, He would keep my heart alive. That He would teach me how to love well. How to be "perplexed, but not despairing". I want to know how to grieve and to rejoice. I want these children to be a testimony to the power of love. Not that love cripples and makes your heart smaller. Not that the pain overwhelms you. Love should make your heart bigger, more capable of loving. Tonight I am hurting and all I can do is ask God to protect me from the sorrow that threatens to drown me.
To enlarge my heart.

"Therefore, we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day.
For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an
eternal weight of glory
far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen,
but at the things which are not seen;
for the things which are seen are temporal,
but the things which are not seen are eternal."

Filled to overflowing

By Mary

Life follows the same pattern, with little change from day to day, just work and play, serve and relax. And God is here, every day. My constant companion, the giver of every good gift [for from Him and through Him and to Him are all things]

Spring has come, so early on the east coast. Pear trees blooming white and full and potent and daffodils showing their sunshiney faces. They speak to my wandering heart, a reminder of my Father's faithfulness and the truth of His promises [He makes everything beautiful in its time]

Each morning I wake up and realize Alanna is one day closer to being home-and one day closer to saying goodbye to the most precious little heart-thieves I've ever known [even in laughter the heart may ache, and joy may end in grief] And even while I wonder why it has to be this way, my sore heart grows more confident in God's plans for each of those I love so dearly [leave they fatherless children, I will preserve them alive] He does all things according to His plans...to prosper, not to harm, for the glory of His name [Come, let us return to the Lord; for He has torn but He will heal us; He has stricken but He will bind us up]

Me heart is filled with prayers and wishes, love and tears and missing people. But most of all it's filled to overflowing with the daily goodness of my Lord, new every morning [now to Him who is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that works in us, to Him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen]

time..

by Alanna

I can feel it slipping through my fingers these days. A little boy back from the hospital, edges into the corner of my heart, and of course, God makes room. I wonder how another piece of my heart can possibly stay here in Africa when I leave. I feel King’s scratchy hair under my chin as he pulls my arms around his tummy. He wants me always to hold his hand now, as he falls asleep. So my thoughts fly back to another time, in the same room, sitting between two other beds with my arms stretched, one precious hand in each of mine. Oh how the time slips away. Before you can see the days passing, they are gone. Just a string of beautiful moments, small hands, whispers of “I love you”. I remember thinking when I came, how long six months would be. I would have so much time with them. And here is the end. Now I am counting down days instead of months, and a panic rises up in me and cries “slow down!” But really it is just a reminder to take nothing for granted. To cherish them, to love them and delight in them with every fleeting moment I have left. Really I believe this is the end of my time at TLC. I am ready to go home. But who is ever ready to say goodbye? To leave behind five months of singing them to sleep? To leave behind their hugs and their laughter and the beautiful way they smile? Their little footprints are imbedded all over my heart, never to be erased. And tonight it is ok to ache, to let myself cry for them. But God’s plans are so beyond goodbyes. A friend once told me that in heaven, all time will be redeemed. So tonight I am not only learning to cherish every moment, but I am also reminded of our redemption. Of a future that God in His great mercy has bestowed on us- a future with no heartache, no broken pieces, no tears. An eternity of worshipping and loving the Savior, and never again feeling time slip away.

surrendering

by Alanna

March 6th, 2011- little one says my name, "anana"
though I will never know to call you anything but son, you will only ever know me by this.

i love you

living life on the surface

By Mary

Sometimes I worry I'm not a very good friend. Sometimes I worry people don't like me enough. Sometimes I worry I'll be forgotten. Sometimes I don't think I do enough--or at least the right things. Sometimes I think I let people down. And sometimes, it's true. I am those things. And sometimes I just need to learn, not just how to do better, but that it's not the end of the world. When it comes down to it, I don't have the power I think I have. My mistakes or triumphs aren't earth-shattering. God will use them both as He sees fit.
There's such freedom in it all--not to do as I wish but to rest in my Father's peace, my Lord's goodness, my King's might.
For me it's easier to live in the shallows of my life. I'm scared to dive in and see what's underneath. The waters rushing around me confuse me and cloud my mind. I prefer things to be simple and clear-cut. I want my life to look smooth, without a ripple. Perfect, not messy. Not just to others but to myself. And I know it won't look that way if I choose to look deeper.
Right now I'm beginning to see that God is there in the chaos. Some of it isn't even so messy after all but rather blends in a beautiful harmony. And all the rest, the things I wants me to put in order...what other way is there to see them but to look?
"Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me...For when I am weak, then I am strong."

teboho

Today I took my little one to the hospital, for a check-up.

The man sitting next to me asked me what his name was and I told him

Teboho.
Do you know what that means?
No. What does it mean?
It means to be thankful.

“Oh give thanks to the Lord, call upon His name; make known His deeds among the peoples.”

Mighty to Save

By Mary

How incredible is the constancy of God, something separate from my faith or my lack thereof. He is true and He is love. He saved once for all time and still He reaches down every day to answer my prayers, to work in my life, to be the great God that He is. He is mighty to save. Merciful to save. Love in motion with righteousness directing. His mighty mercy is strong in our lives today...seen or unseen.

God made me

by Alanna

Somewhere in the midst of changing 19 poos today, I realized that I have fallen absolutely and irrevocably in love. I see it a little more every day- it’s like a light in their eyes that draws me in. And I have these occasional moments where I can feel their footsteps sinking deeper into my heart. Like when Frank shouts to me at the dinner table, “I like you Alanna!” Or when Sandile tangles his sticky fingers into my hair. I feel it most of all when Solly presses his nose against mine and holds my face with his hand.
I want to tell the story of tonight, but not with eloquent words because I can’t find any now. Today was a normal day- eight hours with the Lions, and frequent kisses from my little boy when I passed him in the nursery. At book-reading time the Lions started asking again about their moms and dads. Strange how their hearts so yearn for something they’ve never known. Nadia looked at me with confidence in her eyes and said, “you’re gonna find me a new mommy and daddy.” It wasn’t a question, just a statement. So sure, so trusting. If only I could be that way with my Father. Instead I cried because I didn’t know what to say. I cried because I want so much for them, and I’m powerless to give it. I cried in the dark as Josh sang hymns about the Love I ache for them to understand. When I went to kiss them goodnight, I whispered to Solly I love you, and he cupped his hand around my hear and said “God made me. God made you. God made me.” He said it four times before I understood. God was reminding me, using Solly’s mouth to tell me that He made each of them. He is not unaware. He loves Solly more than I’ll ever know how. He knows what He is doing. In my life and in theirs. Tonight I struggle to see it- sometimes I get lost in the love and pain and joy and hurt of it all. But tonight I am also reminded of the faithfulness of the God who made us.

and the days roll by

By Mary
This is Allie.

She's sweet and curious and gets into everything. And she's teaching my husband and me yet another lesson in patience. But every time she snuggles up close and falls asleep in my lap, I forget all my frustration over anything she chewed up that day.

And the days roll by...Christmas came and went...then New Years. My mom came out and her visit is halfway gone. We've had our puppy for over a week. January too will soon be gone. Life seems to go so much faster these days somehow.

It no longer feels like a dream. It's been six months since our wedding and it finally stopped feeling like a visit, like someday I'll go home and everything will be just as it was. But this is home, for however long. And things change whether I expect them to do so or not.

How do I make the most of it? Some days I'd rather spend my time wishing Alanna were here or I was with her, covered in sunshine and love--and baby vomit. Or that we were both in Colorado, living life "normally".

I can remember so vividly one day feeling the exact same way at TLC...finally used to everything. Finally loving it. No longer homesick. But wishing, somehow, that the worlds that I loved most could be one. That I could hold Pamela on my lap and whisper "I love you" to each other while surrounded by the lively discussion of my best friends.

But it's never to be...and what of the things that are, now?

Fear God and keep His commandments...for this is man's all...

Last night I was lost in thoughts and prayers until late- sitting on the couch in the dark, watching the rain come down. God has been so good these past four months in South Africa- taught me so much about love and trust and resting in Him. The past week we have been praying together every night- any believers who want to join. What a precious gift the fellowship of the saints is! Through prayers and conversations, God has especially moved in my heart these past few weeks. Sarah said one night that in these children’s lives, we are just a brick in the greater building that God is making of them. We will be covered by grander and more beautiful things, but our job is to lie still and rest and let God use us in the way He wants to. It’s so hard sometimes to lie still in the Lord. Especially when He has called us to a love that is ever moving and growing and exploding. He commanded us to love like He loves us. Unconditionally, everlastingly, and holding nothing back. He held back not even His own beloved Son. So how do we love with everything that is in us, and yet be resting in God’s greater plans? I think it’s not a question we can ask- we just have to do. Each night I kiss each of my seven precious Lions goodnight, and I whisper to them how much I love them. Sometimes there’s a dreadful small voice telling me that I won’t be here forever; that in 2 months I will be saying goodbye. I ask God to hush that voice, to fill me with His peace, and to never let doubt creep into my mind. This is where He wants me to be, and He called me here to love with all that’s in me. The beautiful thing about loving with God’s love is that there is a constant supply, and even when I go home, God will be holding each of these lives in His hands. He will be loving them, whispering in their ears at night that He will never leave them. Without the Lord, it is foolish to love this much, knowing that your heart will only be broken. Through the Lord, loving an orphan will never be anything other than right and beautiful. I ask God many times a day if these older ones can be adopted and leave here before I do, but it is not my place to hold back my love in case they are not. It is not my place to doubt and to fear. I am only here to do what God has called me to do- love because He first loved us. I do believe now that the Lord has called us to heartbreak. The key is to love like your heart will never be broken.

By this the love of God was manifested in us, that God has sent His only begotten Son into the world so that we might live through Him. In this is love, not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also outhg to love one another.

There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear

We love, because He first loved us.