Light Up The Sky to show me...

A little over a year ago, I was driving out to the country to my favorite foster home to pick up my two favorite foster kids for church.  Our journey together had been long, daily, tiring, and nurturing.


I was a wreck. For them. A few days before, their biological mom had given up her rights. Given up her rights. I didn't get it. We thought she would at least fight for them. But she didn't. She gave up. It was something I couldn't wrap my mind around. You don't have two beautiful children and just give up on them. But she did. 


When I arrived at the foster home, I walked in the door. She ran to me and gave me a hug. He did too. But then he started climbing on the stair rail and she started whining as foster mom struggled to get their coats on. Another baby started crying. A kid got out of the gate. 


We were all tired. Tired of trying to calm him down. Tired of teaching him how to behave and feeling unsuccessful every time. Tired of dealing with her fits. Tired of seeing her heart break after every visit with her mom. Tired of seeing their tears. Tired of explaining things that couldn't be understood. Tired of crying. Tired of praying. Tired of watching these two innocent hearts break into pieces. Tired of watching them long for something more. 


I got them situated in the car. As soon as I started driving, he kicked my seat over and over again. I told him to stop. Of course he didn't. But I was too tired to fight with him. I just wanted to love them silently that day. 


Church was usually rough. She wouldn't go to children's church. She preferred the nursery with him. For some reason, this Sunday, I went to children's church with her. She had cried before we went in. We snuck in the back and took our seats.


So many thoughts were racing through my mind. 
What's gonna happen to them?
Will we get to keep them?
What is it like to wonder where you'll be the next day?
What is it like to not have a family?
What is it like to be [called] a foster kid?
What is it like to not know who to trust?


As we sat there, these thoughts consumed my mind. 


She started crying again. Quietly. My eyes started swelling with tears. I tried to keep them in. I put my arm around her. She started crying more. Still quietly. Then she got up and sat on my lap. I held her. 


[There was a really nice lady sitting in the back with us.]


The lady leading children's church was a bit stressed, and suddenly she said to my girl, "Hey, get off her lap! You don't need to be laying all over some teen!"  She ment well. And she didn't know nor understand what we were going through mentally or emotionally. 


She lost it with the tears.


I lost it with the tears.


I stood up, looked at the nice lady sitting in the back with us, asked her to watch my girl for me, and I darted out of there, nearly slamming the door behind me. I ran down the hall and out the door. 
The air outside was cold. I didn't care. I leaned against a pole and sobbed for what seemed like forever. I kept saying, "God, my heart is breaking for these kids. Where is the hope here? What am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to help them? I feel helpless, God. Save those kids. Do something! You're not doing anything. I'm so tired, God. I'm so weary."


I let the tears run down my face without wiping them off. I just kept crying. Suddenly, the clouds broke and the sun came out. It shone so brightly I couldn't see for a few seconds. And the song, Light Up The Sky by The Afters popped into my head, the words bold and true and they became my prayer...


"You light light light up the sky
You light up the sky to show me that You are with me.
I I I can't deny, 
I can't deny that You are right here with me. 
You open my eyes
so that I can see You all around me.
You light light light up the sky
You light up the sky to show me that You are with me."


God opened those clouds and showed me the sun at that moment to remind me that those two kids are His. That I am His. It was like He was saying, "I'm right here. Trust me."


After these thoughts, I smiled through my tears. My heart was still broken. I was still tired. But from that moment on, I knew that my kids would be okay. 


Now, over a year later they knocked on my door.  They waited so patiently for me to answer it.  I was greeted with gentle, endearing hugs.  I heard "Yes ma'am" and "no sir" numerous times. I heard "thank you" and "please." 


But best of all, I saw joy on their faces and in their lives. She sang for me, painted my nails, played with my doll, smiled for pictures, told me stories, and we giggled together about everything. 
He hugged me numerous times randomly, told hilarious stories that didn't make any sense, showed respect for everyone around him, and played with marbles in the most content way I've ever seen. 
We got inside a big box that was our hide out. We stuffed it with pillows and blankets and got all cozy. It was our cave, our secret place.


When they left, it wasn't "Goodbye." 
When they left, it was "I love you! See you soon!"


That day of exhaustion. That day when God lit up the sky to remind me that He knew what He was doing, was a day that foreshadowed today. 


These two beautiful babies have two new parents who love them more than anything. They have two parents who have given them stability, structure, security, unconditional love, assurance, and joy. Those things are exactly what they needed. And God knew that.


 Looking back at that day at church and then looking at today brings happy tears to my eyes. I had no idea on that day that I would have the honor of staying in their lives. But that's what God was saying that day...


"Trust Me. I am with you. I am with them. I am for you. I am for them. I've got this. You'll see! Just trust Me."


You light up the sky to show me that You are with me. 

17 Degrees

I use to love fighting the wind's monstrous force.  I use to embrace its bitter coldness against my face.  It didn't matter where I was or the time of day; I ran no matter what.

There wasn't such a thing as a day off.  Mileage sometimes happened three times in a 24-hour period.  Fearless of the potential dangers around me, I ran, head held high, with my Creator in step beside me.
My Pacer.
My Coach.
My King.

I think it was my junior year.  Ice was spitting from the sky,  a north wind blowing at a rough speed.  As I stared out my back door at the inevitable meteorological conditions, my need to run grew.  I couldn't run around the block.  I'd surely slip and it was dark outside.  I didn't care how I did it, but I had to run.  I glanced at my atomic clock. 17 degrees. And dropping. My thought? Bring it on. 
I ran (yes literally) to my room and started layering up.
Tights, shorts, and wind pants.
T-shirt, long-sleeved shirt, hoodie, and jacket.
Two pairs of gloves.
Two pairs of socks.
An ear warmer and two hoods.
 An old pair of running shoes.
I was set.
And I feared one thing.
Getting hot in all these clothes.
As I approached my backdoor dressed like an Eskimo, my mom looked at me and smiled. My brother looked at me and said, “You’re crazy, Jennie. I bet you come inside after fifteen seconds.” That was just what I needed him to say. I always wanted to push past the limits other people put on me. Even a pathetic limit given by my ten- year-old brother pushed me to prove myself. And the bottom line…I just wanted to run, regardless of what anyone else said. It was my addiction. My day was not complete until I ran.  My body and mind were not clear until running and I got together. Not even one day of this was skipped. My coach had told me that to be a really good distance runner, I would need to run every single day. So I did.

I stepped outside, warm under all of my layers. I made my way to the alley. It was a good alley with a terrain of rocky dirt.  But tonight, there was a layer of icy snow covering the dirt. My estimate of the length of the alley was about 75 to 90 meters. It may have been more. I could never really tell.

I cleared my watch.
The wind was blowing the ice into the side of my face.
I was ready.
At my first step I started my watch.
Up and down the alley I went. My pace was easy. Running south, the wind carried me. Running north I was blind. The ice flew hard against my face. My eyes could not stay open. But I kept running. I knew my alley well.
30 seconds in, I was having a blast.
2 minutes later, I was having even more fun.
10 minutes later, I couldn't imagine stopping.
At one point, I glanced at my neighbor’s backdoor.
She was watching me.
She waved and I think she was laughing.
I kept going.
As I existed in these unusual running conditions, I realized something, not only about running, but about life and about my relationship with God.

The weather gets cold in states of bitterness with painful precipitation falling from the sky.  We look out at this weather and instantly think, “There’s no way I’m going out there!”  We classify this weather as “bad” because it’s uncomfortable.  We don’t like how it feels to be in the middle of it.  So we avoid it.  We stay comfortably inside with hot chocolate. 
Isn’t this like life?  We look out at the storms in our lives, or even the storms of the world that make us uncomfortable to be involved in and we withdraw.  We stay in the areas of life that are comfortable for us. We stay with the warmness and satisfaction of the easy things that are in our comfort zones, just like we drink hot chocolate inside the house during an ice storm.
When we are aware of these ice storms in our lives and in the world, we have a responsibility, because with awareness comes the responsibility to ACT.
Getting up to run, especially in an ice storm can be hard because the thought of work in cold weather is not at all appealing.
But with correct preparation and enough determination, it can be done painlessly.
Let’s bundle up for these ice storms of life and let’s have enough determination and drive to push through the storms of beauty even if there’s repetition like running up and down the alley for twenty minutes.  And when the ice hits our face, let’s be thankful that we are alive, able to run through the ice and bitterness in order to learn more about God and what our lives here on Earth mean. 

In my desire to fight the wind’s monstrous force while running, I pray that I will have the same desire to fight life’s monstrous force with the strength and stride of Jesus right beside me.  Whether it be running or life, let’s give all we’ve got every single day, no matter what our conditions are.

The name of the Lord is a strong fortress; the godly run to him and are safe.
Proverbs 18:10

I love you, Lord; you are my strength.
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior;
My God is my rock, in whom I find protection.
He is my shield, the strength of my salvation,
And my stronghold.
I will call on the Lord, who is worthy of praise,
For he saved me from my enemies.
Psalm 18:1-3

Hi! (From Nick)