Broken Together

He looked at me with a sincere loving look. A look I remembered from a time when we were dating. ‘Babe, I want to grow old, rocking in our chairs, next to you.’

Son of a gun, this guy always makes me cry. Not in the bad way, either. Celebrating 27 years married to Scott this May, just weeks before our daughter’s day of nuptials, and I still manage to ruin a good 5 day trip away or a simple date night. ‘We need to communicate better’ is my plight. Why do we women let things fester and build up in our minds? We have had arguments before but this one hurt him. I hated the look in his eyes. I didn’t set out to hurt. I wanted answers. I wanted him to admit I was right.

Yes, I’m going through a lot of emotions these days. I thought I could predict when I’m going to act out irrationally but no! I can’t see it coming before I begin to hurt the loved ones around me. First, it’s a snap at my 9 year old for not understanding her fractions homework, then it’s an unkind ‘teaching moment’ for my 20 year old on what goes in the dishwasher and what does not. Then it hits Scott. He’s been doing the dishes all wrong these days. I proclaim that it has been for 27 years but I like it when we have company and I get to sit with my guests and the kitchen gets cleaned. That’s just him. So I have to ask what’s my inconsistent problem? Hormones? Won’t go there. Some foot pain? Too easy. Stress? Ha! If you knew me, it’s not that. Change? Possibly. I actually don’t know the right answer. Even during an impromptu counseling session with good friends over for a home cooked steak dinner (cheaper than paying for the counseling, let me tell you.), I felt like I couldn’t quite express myself properly. It was nice to have someone else hear how we talk to each other, for a change. I’m saying a lot of words but they don’t make sense. I’m not unhappy with my marriage. I’m not going anywhere. I sometimes feel like my role in the home becomes under appreciated. That’s still not really it, though.

Funny enough our church is going through a marriage series. I didn’t think I was going to be blown away with how-to’s. The steps to take away were things we do on a regular basis. However, what hit me this past Sunday was the song they ended the service with. Also funny since I admitted in two blogs ago that I don’t love worship music in church. But this song wasn’t new. It was by a popular christian band called Casting Crowns and the song came out in 2014. I’ve never heard it before or is it that I am actually hearing it now for the first time?

The lyrics begin explaining a painful relationship. This isn’t Scott and I. But the chorus hit me.

‘Maybe you and I were never meant to be complete

Could we just be broken together

The only way we will last forever

Is to be broken together‘

I didn’t marry a perfect man. He will vouch for me and tell you I’m not perfect either. I hate when we go through times of being petty and when I stumble to put the argument into words. However, we always come back to saying we were meant for each other and we grow stronger.

I’m not sure this is anything more than trying to fix every little thing that I allow to annoy me. Here’s some free counseling advice; Don’t make a list or keep score with your spouse. I’m so glad my Heavenly Father didn’t give up on me because I was broken.

I just realized this is Valentines week! Cherish the relationships you have now and right wrongs and be humble. We are all broken people so let’s be broken together.

‘What gives our life meaning is how we are loved.’ That cheesy line is brought to you by every Hallmark movie.

‘People who are loved the way we are are loved should have lives marked by extreme thanksgiving and laughter because of the mercy and generosity of our King.’ – Because He Loves Me by Elyse M. Fitzpatrick.

Goals

It’s January. The month of new beginnings. The month of diets. The month of renewal. The month of resolutions. I know it can also be a month of sadness, depression and loneliness.

Today I feel old. Kind of in a good way. As I strive to live a good Christian life the older I get I realize I suck. Ha! How’s that for a topic for my first blog of 2019! Still reading? Ok. I feel old because my body is breaking down. When I’m running and training for a race I feel invincible. Unless, of course, injury occurs and for me, that is happening more frequently. I talked a bit about my latest foot issue on social media. I found out I have suffered from Morton’s neuroma in my left foot for about a year. It grew worse and soon caused me to limp and stay away from the gym since my Berlin marathon back in October. I found a clinic all the way in Boston who treats this issue without surgery and I went for it. Got a large needle stuck between my toes and froze the nerve to deaden it. Lovely stuff. After 8 weeks it did relieve the nerve pain but not 100%. I’m going again for a second round and feeling optimistic I will be completely healed but haven’t felt that way the whole recovery time. In fact, two Saturdays ago, I had a major meltdown where my husband found me in a heap on my bedroom closet floor surrounded by discarded clothes and cute shoes I no longer can wear. It was necessary. It was warranted. It was healing, to say the least. For 15 days I’ve rebooted my diet and feel great. All this is physical renewal.

The real reason I feel old today is that I woke myself up and felt an immediate nudge. No. I felt an urgency. No. I felt like I had a beautiful appointment I could not miss. When I wake up an hour before my nine year old routinely wakes up at 7:30, I get to sit and dwell and commune with my Heavenly Father. Not something my 30 year old self would feel like. My meetings and conversing with God isn’t new for me. The desire has deepened and to that I owe to maturity. I love that aging means I’m still learning. With age I still screw up but I’m less hard on myself. I get to learn more about who God is and that relationship is number one.

My word for 2018 was LOVE. I got to see myself view a lot of my interactions with that word at the forefront of my thoughts. 2019 brings a new word for me. FAITHFUL. I want to reflect on how God has been faithful in my life. I also want to be a faithful servant. I want to be faithful in reading God’s word and books about growing in my faith. I guess it takes some people a lifetime to figure God out. I say don’t stop until you find Him.

My nine year just woke up. She walked straight to the drawer in the kitchen to get a pot out to make her own oatmeal. She also went straight to our new amazon echo show to ask Alexa to start her day with songs by Lauren Daigle. The song You Say came on.

‘The only thing that matters now is everything You think of me

In You I find my worth, in You I find my identity, (ooh oh)

You say I am loved when I can’t feel a thing

You say I am strong when I think I am weak

You say I am held when I am falling short

When I don’t belong, oh You say that I am Yours

And I believe (I), oh I believe (I)

What You say of me (I)

I believe

With that I can find joy in what my day brings me. Dig deep and find time to be still. Maybe you will hear a word, for renewal, strength, or just plain survival.

Christmas Thoughts

Christmas isn’t just a day, am I right? It’s a season. The other day a young guy at the meat counter asked me if it felt like Christmas to me because he had not heard many Christmas songs on the radio this year. I thought maybe he was referring to the Spring like weather we are experiencing here in Michigan. Rainy and cloudy. No snow this Christmas. Does it feel like Christmas because you are up to your ears in wrapping paper or you find yourself yelling, ‘Don’t get it’, when the UPS man is delivering packages daily? Lots of friends have been posting their spot that makes them happy. Their Christmas tree in the quiet of the night when everyone is in bed. The quiet is a good place to be to reflect, ponder, wish. Is this Christmas?

I have enjoyed my 25 day Countdown this year. Not to be confused with my 12 day countdown of funny quips my 9 year old daughter has said this year. Zoe says funny things almost every day. I write them down and have been sharing them for the past three Christmases. No, that’s not my favorite countdown. Ever since I was newly married I have surrounded myself with devotions to dig into over the month of December. Honestly, I’m not very successful. Yes, its the craziest month of the year if you have little kids who have an elementary school event to attend twice a week or a teenager that needs a ride to a party or band practice or you have a party to bring a gift to. Did you sign up for room mom again and have to organize your kid’s Christmas party? You get the picture. I remember a book called Redeeming the Season which helps you do little meaningful tasks to remind yourself of why December 25 is so special. Have you had those moments? Hopefully when you sit in peace around your tree you aren’t too stressed to think of the crazy day you just had but instead you choose to be thankful for what you have. Hopefully when you sit in peace you are filled with love and feel useful. Hopefully you have that one moment of peace.

I’ve had that intentional moment of peace and thankfulness every morning around 6 am. Sometimes earlier. I came across a Christmas advent calendar I brought home from my visit to Hillsong Church while visiting my cousin in Sydney three years ago. I packed it away and didn’t use it until this year. Each morning I scratch off a circle that includes a Bible passage, a thought and an action for the day. The best thing about this is after I scratch off the circle I take a picture of it and text it to my cousin who is 16 hours ahead in the day because she wanted to share in the awe of Christmas too.

I have loved this moment and only (honestly) have missed one day and had to rush that reading just to get it in.

Someone complimented me the other day. He observed me hosting a dinner party for Zoe and 7 friends on Friday night to kick off their two week Christmas break. We had crafts, games and food planned and they were all hyped up on sugar. I’ve been through hosting this kind of thing before like, 7 years ago for Blaire and her friends. I have help and he asked me why I do it. He knows I’m also hosting a few family gatherings in the next five days that include sleepover guests. I said I have experience to say no to the less important things. I also have help from Blaire and Scott and I’m better at pacing myself. But now I know the answer. It isn’t because I’m an experienced mom and manage my time well. No, it’s all because I’ve started my day handing it over to Jesus. That should always be my answer because it’s true.

Some of the suggested actions this month have been;

Share an encouraging word with someone

Meditate on Gods calling on your life

Listen to someone’s dream today

Tell someone some good news today

Pray to know Jesus and his grace and truth more

Serve

How can we get through our long ‘to do’ list and complete these tasks? These are the things that count the most! That’s how. Everyday that I make God a priority is a good day.

So what if all your gifts are in bags because wrapping takes too long. Good for you.

So your baking came from a cookie walk. Awesome!

Ask your kids if they care if you don’t have Christmas crackers this year. They don’t.

So try not to run around today. Take it easy. Delegate and pray. Be still. It was a majestic and peaceful night when Jesus was born. Enjoy!

Merry Christmas!

Seasons of Life

I may have titled a blog this before but I’m in a new season so the content is different.

I’m in a season of discovery.

One of my strengths from a personality test I took a while back is discipline. I like this one. I am disciplined in my fitness regime. I’m usually disciplined with chocolate (close friends are laughing right now). I’m disciplined in my faith and always reading a book that sheds new light on God and my life. I’ve discovered I can’t possibly be disciplined in all areas of my life at the same time.

I’ve been through a running discipline (or fitness) before but this one doesn’t just fade for me. No this one comes to a halt with a trainer who moves away or I get an injury. I take a hiatus and fall off the wagon hard.

I get into a good nutrition season. I learn about how a new food has come into fashion (hello cauliflower) and that what my mother fed me is pure poison (goodbye white bread). I find new recipes, replace all my sugars (yes I have Tupperware labeled erythritol) yet I’ve been known to slip back into my old ways and go old school cooking on my family with no warning, from time to time. (Aww ham and potato casserole)

Faith – this has truly never wavered but my devotion level has gone through a season or two. If you have a baby? Oh young mother, you try. You probably are clinging to your faith and calling out short ‘rescue me’ prayers to get through the day. That’s right where God wants you. Then when you have a few years under your belt you figure you can’t screw this kid up too much so you let go a little. You realize you can take some time out for yourself so you can squeeze out some time to getting back to bible basics and seek a new word or idea for rejuvenation. Be it a thought from a flip calendar or getting through a 20 min podcast in 5 days. You go, girl.

So this brings me to my new season. I’ve been injured for 5 months. The gym is out of the question. Walking is out too. I still get up early in the morning. It’s winter and new recipes aren’t appealing. I’m in a spiritual rejuvenation period. It’s awesome. When my kids were young I would try to read a book about the Christmas story the whole month of December. This is, of course, Christ’s season, for goodness sake. Yet, I can count the years I actually remembered to read or get close to God during the season dedicated to Him! I could shame myself but He doesn’t shame me. I’ve read too many great books lately to mention. It’s been my thing to give away my favorite book of the year to my extended family but this year will be a mixture of four. Learning, journal writing, sharing with friends. I love this season. Although my exercise regime is out the window and well, I began to bake again. You can text me your ‘healthy’ baking recipes but I won’t like them. I won’t share about weight. The positive people out there will say it’s all in how you feel in your clothes is what counts. Well, let’s just say this year I’m asking Santa for a new wardrobe.

This definitely should not be a stressful season. So here are some tips from this ‘seasoned’ mom.

Use amazon! I love shopping but come dec 1st, crazies enter my stores and clog my parking lots and completely forget how to drive. Avoid! Shop online
Bake up a storm! It’s comfort and you will need comfort and joy this month. My comfort level was filled to the brim when I went to a friend’s house yesterday. We ate soup and BREAD, salad with yummy DRESSING and homemade cookies. What a delight!
Take time out for you! If that’s a 10 minute bath then fill that tub up, place kids in front of the TV on the other side of the door and close your eyes. If you’re so inclined, worship. It’s my favorite place to worship, just sayin’.

I know when I feel healthy again I will be running in the morning. I will have to be creative and carve time out for God later in the day. That is a priority. Eating the best I know how is also a priority and with a vacation on the horizon I have a motivator to wear those new clothes Santa is bringing me. (and you thought I was asking for a size up.) Also, accountability. This goes a long way. I have my daughter, my husband and some friends in my life who inspire me, push me and teach me. Ask me to be there for you if you need it.

I hope this Christmas season doesn’t get away from you. The best thing I was reminded of this morning is that it’s not from my own strength.

I will end with a quote from the book Because He Loves Me by Elyse Fitzpatrick.

‘Leaving nothing to our abilities, Jesus himself initiates our faith, and he’ll oversee it to its perfect completion. We’re to rely totally on him, the “one on whom (our) faith depends from beginning to end.” ‘

Merry Christmas!

Photo: taken two blocks away from my house. Christmas reminders all around me.

The expansion of a mother’s heart

Being a mother is great. Being a mother of an adopted daughter is so great. The difference? Nothing. I visited a 5 day old baby the other day and witnessed the awe and love in the brand new parent’s eyes. They were careful in everything they did. They didn’t want to take their eyes off their new little gift. If we had instagram when my firstborn was around, trust me there would be plenty of posts. I took Jacob everywhere. He was my little buddy because I was home all day with him. So we talked and played and you bet I had a camera in his face a lot. We have photo albums to prove it. Three years later I was ready to let another little child steal my heart. It seemed natural and this little girl was immediately accepted by big brother. So much so that he affectionately called her mashed potatoes because that was his favorite food. Blaire sharpened my parenting skills since she was a rule pusher. Since she challenged me every day we loved each other in a beautiful way. My two biological kids got along great. We had a rhythm and I selfishly didn’t want to be pregnant again. Quite frankly, I didn’t know why anyone had more than two children. I had two hands, one for each of them. With car seats, who can fit more than two kids in the back seat? I was that kid stuffed in the middle. Being baby number 5 in my family was great and I wouldn’t change it but there was an age gap and my mom had my siblings to help take care of me. I didn’t want that for my two kids. Vacations were even easy and going out to eat was manageable. There, my mind was made up. Four Clodes was perfect. I love when I can help God make choices for my life. That decision was made.

Then Scott and I found ourselves in a position of praying a new prayer. We looked ahead and thought what our life would be like in ten years. We had experienced life making our own decisions versus God being in control and we both knew that we were not asking God in this season of our lives. So we prayed a courteous prayer of ‘let me know if we need to make any changes in our life, Lord.’ That’s how I approach God sometimes. Like I’m saying I know the answer but want to let you in on this. Wow. Painful to admit. Quite honestly that prayer turned into pleading with God to show me what to do with our future and he brought to my attention adoption in three different ways in three consecutive days. It took Him that long to break me. My first response was No! I remember pounding the floor and crying because my mother heart didn’t know how to expand this late in the game. I was 39 and ready for two teenagers. My own mother was 38 when she had me. This was getting a little ridiculous. I thought I would finally share my angst with Scott. The voice of reason. He would hear my struggle and know what to do. Now, when you ask most women who have ever wanted to adopt and brought it to their husband’s attention their reaction is highly a big fat NO. Not Scott. Just like in the movie ‘It could happen to you’ he has a ‘heart of gold’. Immediately Scott said, ‘yes, let’s do it.’ I wasn’t fully convinced but soon after a series of events that took us down the road to applying to an agency and praying for direction on where our child actually was, I couldn’t stop it.

You know Zoe was born the year 2009. By the time we were deciding on what country to apply to she was born. I’m not sure if she ever saw her birth father but he had passed by the time she was in the system. Her mother made a very brave decision to let Zoe go to a family who could provide for her. That is a huge responsibility. I’m forever grateful. Adoption explodes a mother’s heart. Following God’s leading is always the best choice. My whole family would agree.

I think I may have gotten off track of where I wanted to take you on my adoption journey. This blog was birthed during that process and I wrote about all the steps as I was taking them on a different blog site. However, as we celebrate adoption month I have enjoyed sharing certain pictures of my daughter before we were able to hold her. She is remarkable and the original four Clodes, and our growing family, couldn’t imagine life without her. Don’t miss out on that nudge. God is maybe trying to get your attention to a life you have never imagined.

Timing is everything

It happens every time. Without fail. I wanted to sleep in since we had been traveling for 14 hrs and I flopped down in my bed at 2 am. Zoe, who has a crazy internal clock…. Let me rephrase without passing judgement. Zoe has an incredible internal clock that this mom keeps trying to change. I love that she wakes at 6:59 am every weekday morning. Makes for a smooth daily routine to get her off to school. I sometimes whistle as I drop her off. Is that bad? Anyway, this incredible girl will wake at 6:59 even on weekends. And no matter where we travel to and with all the different times zones this girl has been exposed to, she doesn’t sleep in!

So, Zoe had a cat nap on the hour and half connecting flight from Atlanta landing us in Detroit at 12:08 am. Factor in waiting for luggage and a 45 min drive home, she got into her bed by 1:50 am. Me, just 10 mins behind her. She must sleep in today, I thought. I think I even audibly suggested that she can sleep in and hoped she got my subliminal messages as I knew she was asleep during the pj process. Five hours later, my daughter snuck down the hall at 7:39 am, hit all the creaks in the floor that triggered me to wake and she stomped (she can’t tiptoe) over to Scott’s side of the bed. Full on knowing you don’t come to moms side after full on disobeying. Sigh.

It’s Sunday morning. Church today. We leave at 8:45 for 9 am service. Are we going? Well, I wasn’t getting up yet. In my defense, my eyes wouldn’t let me.

‘Lord, forgive me, but I can’t go to church today. I have so much to do. Luckily, we have the option to live stream our service so I will just worship you that way today, ok?’

I make it down the stairs and head straight to my Keurig machine. I’m not a coffee freak but I had missed my Tim Hortons keurig pod coffee with two tablespoons of Italian sweet cream for over 6 days. You live for Starbucks or a pour over with fresh roasted beans from Kenya? This is my pleasure and I wasn’t speaking to my family until I got it. I knew they were plotting to go to church without me. I heard whispers of leaving mom home to rest. Oh no, I’m not carrying that guilt today. So I finish my coffee in silence, concurred with Scott that I was joining the family, got dressed and was ready to go.

Not sure if you ever feel like why you came to church on any given moment but I do regularly. I mean, I’ve been going to church my whole life. I never remembered skipping church unless I was very ill and I don’t recall when we, Scott and I, as a new family unit, even began questioning our presence in church but it happens from time to time. When I do get my sorry butt into my seat mid worship (because truth be told I don’t love corporate worship, so being late is ok with me) I said a silent prayer. I closed my eyes and confessed.

‘Lord, I’ve been saying this a lot lately, but forgive me again. I’m here and ready for a new word. I want to hear your voice. I want you to change my heart. I come before you humbled. I’m rotten and don’t deserve the goodness you give me daily. Speak to me’.

I may have opened my eyes only to notice the singer was still mid song and to feel more connected to God I continued to confess a little more. Maybe. Something like that.

Anyway, I got my cell phone out because yes, that’s what I do now. I’ve always been a church note taker but we dim the lights in our church. Pen and paper just doesn’t suffice. Besides, I’m a heathen and don’t even carry my Bible with me either so where will I put those said notes afterwards? Notes app is ready and fired every Sunday. I begin starting a blog about my failure as a mother. This blog may surface at a later date, but I’m trying to stick to God giving me a word. I just returned from a glorious vacation with Scott and Zoe to the self proclaimed, ‘happy island’ of Aruba. I’ve never been before and since I was missing the first snowfall back home I was delighted that my daily to do list involved sunscreen, sunbathing and eating the best burgers on the beach. Also, I wanted to experience happiness as the place suggests. However, traveling with our adored youngest, without adult siblings, meant that she would be bored. Sometimes, I feel like we are still new to the fact that we are basically raising an only child. Jacob and Blaire always amused themselves on our beach vacations. Dad is still good at this but I am not. ‘Just sit and rest’. ‘You cannot be hungry right now’. ‘Let’s stay in the pool and not go build sandcastles just yet’. Wow, selfish much? Embarrassed to say I was not the calm mom Zoe has proclaimed me to be in the past.

Back in church, God began speaking to me. Partly through my original thoughts and now mixing in the pastors thoughts. The service was on keeping the sabbath. Ok, laugh now. I mean I was going to stay home and finish some chores and skip church. Yes there’s the irony. More importantly I would have missed out on the following message, as the pastor put it;

DIVERT DAILY Get into Gods word John 15

WITHDRAW WEEKLY sabbath. Duh.

ABANDON ANNUALLY get away.

I recharge by being alone. God couldn’t have planned my three days alone in Boston at a better time. I’m literally on a plane as I write, going to a health clinic to get my foot fixed (another blog). I was driving to the airport just over 24 hrs from the time I arrived from my ‘happy’ family vacay, ALL BY MYSELF! ( insert pulsating heart emoji). It’s a strange feeling but I look forward to it. After sharing my revelations and thoughts to Scott about needing time to recharge he was all for it. I mean he agreed to my selfishness and pushy attitude towards Zoe lately, first, then he agreed that I should schedule time away …. alone. Music to any moms ears, am I right?

Being a stay at home mom doesn’t mean I have all the time in the world to do what I want. In fact, we usually find ourselves busying up our day serving and caring for others before ourselves. I’ve been working on this gig for a while now and I may have had a difficult reentry once Zoe came into our lives. Just the other day Zoe’s teacher was letting her third grade students know that a lot of their parents were taking time out of their busy schedules to volunteer at their class’ Halloween party. To my chagrin, ( I love using that phrase) Zoe, my daughter, my youngest who I do everything for and who is lovingly spoiled, shouts out, ‘No, my mom isn’t that busy’.

Well, if that isn’t reason enough to recharge and all the while get physical healing on my foot, my prayer for the next three days is,

‘Lord, make me fall in love with your word again. Make me sensitive to the needs of those around me and help me love like your son Jesus’.

Amen!

Mental Marathon

Here I go again. I don’t like repeating this training pattern but it seems to just find me. I begin each training season with vigor and enthusiasm and lately (like in the last five years) I get injured, life happens and I don’t complete my training schedule as well as I set out to do.

That time has come yet again and believe me when I tell you that I have been downright discouraged. My next marathon will be my 7th and maybe my hardest. I mean I once trained for a half and ended up running a full but it was in my city with 1000 teammates running along side me and many more cheering from the sidelines. That can make anyone move. I ran two marathons in two months once and was injured for both. After the first I decided to take the two months completely off to ‘heal’ before running the second in Disney. This one again, was along side some great teammates and it wasn’t my slowest. I’m not writing this to brag or anything. It definitely is not the results I’ve wanted but who says what a marathon should look like anyway? I know that when I run I feel more vibrant. I know many people who run to bring clean water to Kenya and that can motivate the walker or runner, young and old. I have found that each marathon experience helps you alter, change or repeat what went great or was detrimental to your race. Usually that means what I should do the week leading up to my race and what food will work best for my performance. That isn’t in my game plan right now. I just have to find a way to finish this thing.

Someone once told me they would take up running when they see a runner who smiles. Well that is what I do when I run. I do love the sport and it creates a high like no other. Runners greet one another along a trail and we encourage each other since we know we each run for a purpose. There’s a story behind every race. What brought you there? What motivates you? What keeps you going when everything hurts?

My husband and I have planned to run a few international marathons and the Berlin marathon is next up. I’ve basically suffered an inflamed toe, that caused me to change my gait to resist the pain and as a result I got bursitis in the opposite knee. I rested, and got discouraged when even walking hurt. I’ve since got cortisone shots and anti inflammatories in my system that was just to get me through 14 days in Kenya and I’m happy to say I feel great! God is faithful! I have three weeks to train at home and mentally prepare myself to just finish. I guess in hindsight, planning this trip to Kenya wasn’t the best idea due to the timing of the trip but as I’m flying home and looking at my pictures I’m feeling quite the contrary. In the last two weeks I have felt many emotions but one I have experienced before is purpose. I ran on rough, rocky, hilly and dusty roads in Kenya and although the miles were few the very act of getting up early and running alone has propelled my spirit to answer the ever popular question, why? And so I will tell you why.

I run with the purpose to bring clean water to the Pokot region in Kenya. Why? They’re well being starts with water. I have met these beautiful people and will forever have their wonderful smiles and exuberant spirits in my heart. One day I was running a mile long road completely uphill. I stopped to walk from time to time (I will blame the crazy elevation). I was turning around to repeat my mile long trek uphill when I had to walk and noticed a lady walking in the opposite direction. As I passed her she calmly says to me, ‘pick it up’. I smiled and instantly began to run again. As I came down the hill I ran along side her and stopped. I told her I run in America to bring clean water to her fellow Kenyans. She smiled and thanked me. She told me her name was Anne. That interaction just validates why I need to complete this marathon. First of all, I told Anne I would but I also told many children I met at a few orphanages. Everywhere I turned I would see girls young and old carry water on their heads to their homes. Tears would well up in my eyes when I would pass dried up water beds and there were many. Or worse, the sight of watching children draw water for their families in dirty, contaminated waterbeds.

Another great moment I experienced was when we pulled off to the side of the road to witness a brand new water well that was completed and celebrated just two weeks prior. We got out and spoke to the few women who were drawing water together. This well is closer to their village and providing healing to everyone who is able to use it. I pumped the water, which was not my first time, but it still gives me chills. Our leader then told me that this well went in because of the money raised from our annual 5k. My family ran this race this past June. I felt proud and humble at the same time.

I recently heard that the limitations we feel while moving our bodies are in our heads and we can push past them. Luckily, I also believe in the power of prayer and so when I am weak He is strong. Our running community should celebrate their ups and downs, their successes and injuries and as our race season approaches you better believe I will be repeating my new mantra ‘pick it up!’

Look and Live

Today is a perfect morning. I slept in until about 6:30 am. It’s Zoe’s last day of second grade and it’s Blaire’s 20th birthday! No more teens in the house (for a while anyway!) This week in June is always full of emotion in our household. I’m embarking on another birthday in two days and I’m still embracing them. One more year older but another year closer to God. My perfect morning also includes Scott napping on the couch after his morning run. Blaire is up and journaling and I’m sitting in my morning reading chair with my morning devotion and my new favorite book Look and Live. With the back screen door open I can hear the birds chirping and feel a wonderful cool summer breeze. Blue skies and sunny. Just like it was the day Blaire was born.

As I sit back and reflect on the day of her birth I also fast forward to where I had hoped she would be today. Blaire and I didn’t always see eye to eye when she was growing up, but that was her finding her independence. Sometimes, us moms try to get in the way of this and push back when we are afraid of where they might be headed. It’s easy for a mom to second guess her every move and decision when her kids are growing up. When do I let go? When do I step in? When do I tell her she’s wrong? When do I sit back and watch? I remember squeezing Blaire’s hand so tight while crossing a busy street because my little Miss Independent wanted to run everywhere. Blaire has stepped out, spoken out and stood out most of her life. She has exceded way more than our expectations. Scott and I look in awe and thank God we could be apart of it. I hear parents worry about their kid’s futures all the time. What will happen when they go to high school? What will happen if we move? How will they handle college? We don’t know. That’s the beauty of it. Going through life’s milestones can be exhausting and I don’t just want to ‘go through’ life. I want to take it in. I want to enjoy it and I most definitely want to see God’s glory in everything. I can’t say enough about the book I’m reading called, ‘Look and Live’. It excites me to move from mundane and lift my eyes. Today I read, ‘ Father, your plans are better than my expectations.’ That’s my message to my kids.

When I think about my childhood it involves a lot of family. But I have been out of my parents house for 26 years now. Blaire has been engaged for 26 days and I’m counting down the days I have with her and cherish it all. Days heading to the gym, after work movies, early morning runs and lunch dates. Blaire is beautiful inside and out and now I get to help plan a big day she has dreamed about her whole life.

So summer break officially begins today. Birthdays, vacations, interacting with new and old friends. I don’t just want to entertain my kids or myself this summer. I want to encounter Jesus. Purposeful moments. Look and live.

When I am Weak

It’s a verse I overlook if everything is going great. But on a day that I feel like a failure I take notice. 2 Corinthians 12:9 says,

But he (Jesus) said to me,’My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

Who wants to boast about their weaknesses? I started this blog hesitantly over 5 years ago because I was entering a very helpless and unknown and downright scary journey. Adoption was never on my radar. I hate putting this in print but I didn’t want any more kids. That’s just the point. I. Me. My plan. That’s my weakness. Selfishness. Can you relate? As a mom, you give so much. When I gave birth to two kids when I basically wanted to, it was fine. My timing, my agenda. When you give your life to God you gain so much more and I grew up knowing it, saying it and memorizing it. Now was the time to live it.

April 12, 2013 was the day Scott, Blaire and I sat in a small, stuffy court room that looked more like a classroom. There were maybe 20 people in the room with agents and lawyers and the female judge sat at a desk at the front of the room. We weren’t called first but when our name was announced we moved to the first row in front of the judge. She wasn’t especially warm. I tried to listen and concentrate on every word she said but I have to admit my mind wandered to all the time it took to get to this very moment. I couldn’t let emotion take over. I had to focus on her words and concentrate. She was concerned about how we would continue to teach our child about her heritage. Again, feelings of weakness, or in this case, inadequacy rushed over me. We told her other families in our church and community have adopted. We jumped through so many hoops to get to this point. We didn’t know how this whole life change would play out. She said some more things and Scott spoke mostly. She congratulated us and we were officially parents of a three year old. The following two weeks played out with me staying in Ethiopia with my new daughter and staying in a very dear friend’s house with her family. I had a cold and was homesick and all the while trying to basically get my new daughter to like me. ‘My grace is sufficient for you. My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Zoe remembers a lot. She remembers eating certain things in Ethiopia. She remembers games and we show her pictures to remember. I sure hope she doesn’t remember how scared I was. How weak and helpless I felt. I hope she didn’t sense the uncertainty I felt bringing her home to our family and friends.

I recently read a great quote by Jess Connolly in her book called Dance Stand Run. ‘Abundance is on the opposite side of obedience’. Read that again. Now who doesn’t want abundance? In following the call to adopt my amazing daughter Zoe we received abundantly. My biological kids will say the same thing. My family will attest to knowing Zoe is seeing God in action. Is she perfect? No, not at all. Today marks her 5th gotcha day and every year I remember a different aspect of God’s perfect story He had for us.

I’m always amazed at how God protected Zoe. You know when your mom instincts kick in? Well, I would wake up in the middle of the night scared for her. The sweating, shaking, waking up your husband, kind of scared. The whole process was put on hold. Our first court date, that came unusually quick, got postponed and we were back in the waiting game. So, seeing updates and pictures of how our daughter was progressing on the computer every month from our agent wasn’t satisfying this mama bear. I knew she was in God’s hands but I didn’t know how she was treated day to day. I would pray when she cried that the nannies would take favor over the others and really care for her. Is that wrong? That was my heart.

The weakness reared it’s ugly head again when Zoe joined our every waking hour back in Michigan. I figured I had been a mom before so I had skills. I found myself in a bit of a depression the first summer with a little girl who was so sweet but defied my every command. I coveted my free time. I coveted my morning coffee and reading time. I didn’t want to watch Mickey Mouse playhouse again and sing kid songs. Ok, I lie. I do like the kid cd’s but it was all a big adjustment for me. My daughter is inquisitive, and cheery in the morning. She likes to be in every conversation and always wants to join in family hugs. She makes us laugh and has quite honestly, given me purpose in my life again. Yes, I have weaknesses but I rejoice that I’m not struggling through my days but relying on the power of Jesus Christ. That’s the strength we have to love others. Even a child that was birthed by another wonderful human being. I have to mention that in my daughter’s birth mom’s weakness, she found strength to allow her baby to have life to the full. Thank God for adoption. Thank God for Gotcha Day and Thank God for Zoe Ayame Clode.

The World Is At My Doorstep

As far back as I can remember I have heard about missionaries. Not sure what your perception is of such people but I have always had the utmost respect for them. Whether it’s a couple as old as my parents who have been in Africa for most of their adult life or a young family who sacrifices two years to missions, I feel it’s all good. Some of my most favorite books are about brave souls who give up the American comforts to serve those who are the least of these. I remember a time in my life that I wanted to be a missionary. my first taste of travelling to another country and serve people who spoke a different language was when I was 19 and I went to Mexico. In fact, my husband asked me about 12 years ago, ‘Where do you see us in 10 years’ and I said with great conviction, ‘I see us on the mission field.’

Fast forward 12 years and we have not sold our belongings, packed up the family and moved to a remote area of Africa to ‘become missionaries’. I do believe that you don’t, in fact, have to go to the deepest areas of Africa to serve others. I have a mission field and it’s called Rochester, mi.

Last week, God gave me a beautiful picture of this mission field as I worked alongside some amazing women from Zoe’s public school. They were from India, Mexico, Italy, Brazil, Japan, South Korea to name just a few. We held the school’s 2nd annual International Festival and I was excited. I decided we would celebrate Zoe’s heritage and set up an Ethiopian booth. I focused on children of Ethiopia and like in my old high school fashion I waited until the last week to prepare. I did order a flag and many little flags and a beautiful authentic dress for Zoe to wear with plenty of time to arrive before the festival. However, how I was going to transform a 10×10 tent to look like an Ethiopian house was a bit stressful. The night before the festival I spotted a well used box of burlap in my basement and imagined that draped over the tent to make it look like a real hut and it turned out perfect. My husband helped me set up and I was ready. The daytime was split up into hour blocks for each grade to come through and ask questions and talk about your country. The kids were fascinated to see other kids who had very little be very happy in these pictures. It gave them a great perspective and I loved sharing with them. This was not my favorite part of the day though. I must say, when I walked around and learned about other countries and these wonderful people’s culture I felt like walls were down and barriers were broken. Some couldn’t speak English very well but a smile and love goes a long way. The children in Zoe’s class alone represent about 10 different countries. This is incredible to me! God has brought the world to my doorstep. Zoe loves to share that she was born in another country. Being born in Canada makes all our family aliens. Canada isn’t far from here but it’s still different. There is growth through an event like this. Kids don’t have to feel different just because they don’t speak English and have different colored skin. Sometimes when we hear that a school is culturally diverse we shy away from the unknown. Zoe tells me that at lunch time her friends bring homemade pasta, samosas and eat with chopsticks in her cafeteria. Awesome!

A proud moment for me was Zoe’s first day of school this past September. She just left her old house and school of three years and made some neighborhood friends but walking into her school she carries a confidence that much prayer and open conversation has built up in my eight year old. Some day God might call me to a different mission field. I’m always asking and want to only live in His will. I’m certain that He has shown me that my front porch light is on for a reason. People need to see Jesus’ love right here in my city as I walk Zoe to school and see moms at the gym. It’s pretty exciting to think that conversations around my kitchen island is just as important as serving someone around the world. Look up and see who is around you.

The term, ‘life on mission’ gets me out of bed in the morning. It makes sense of the mundane tasks and gets me out of the Michigan winter blues. Looking at every relationship and encounter as important as we are to Jesus is also a great perspective. Walk out your front door and encounter the world.

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