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...)