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)

Cracks of Beauty in my Heart

As I lie here in bed, a tear trickles down my cheek as I remember moments with my kids. 
Sometimes, they seem to be the only thing I feel.
Sometimes I am numb to everything else around me.
But never to them. 
I am never numb to my A & A.


I remember the time they were spending the weekend at my house.  I couldn't get home until late, so they were asleep on my living room floor when I got there. I grabbed a blanket and got comfy on the couch beside my sweet little Aven who was asleep on the floor. I reached down and held his soft, 3 year old hand. After a few moments of starring down at Aven and Keeli in the darkness, I got off the couch and knelt down and kissed each of them on their head and whispered, "I love you with all my heart Akeeli Renae." "I love you with all my heart Aven Everett Lee." And I meant those words more sincerely than I ever had. Over the months prior to these moments these kids had become my own. They had become my life, my passion, my dream. I remember staying awake for a while that night praying for each of them. I couldn't wait until morning when they would awaken.


Before I opened my eyes the next morning, I heard some chatter. Then suddenly, Aven jumped on me and yelled, "Jennie!" right into my sleepy face. I would have to say that is one of my all time favorite moments ever. He hugged my neck so tightly I thought I was going to make the headlines in the paper the next day for being the first person to ever die from suffocation from a hug! Akeeli jumped on me too and I was holding my two favorite people in the entire world.


 My pride and my joy.


Sometimes I wonder about their real mom, you know? 
Does she think about them often?
When she does think of them, what does she feel?
I feel broken for her.
It was enough for them to be taken away from me.
What in the world is it like for her?
Does she miss Aven's arms around her neck?
Does she miss Akeeli's endless questions and stories?
I do.


There was one day when I went to daycare just to be with Aven. I was there for Keeli too, but she was preoccupied with her friends at daycare and Aven had had a bad day at school.
It just so happened the daycare needed an extra worker to be present in order to have the legal amount of workers. So I said I'd be there. For some background, I didn't actually work at the daycare anymore. I was just in town to see my kids. My sole purpose of being there was to be with them. 
I walked outside and Aven ran up to me and jumped into my arms as usual, but he was not his cheerful self. 
I just sat down in a chair and held him. I wouldn't hold any other kid.
I just held my Aven.
That was all I needed.
And that was all he needed, too.


Keeli use to tell me that I looked like her mom. I thought that meant that her mom probably had blonde hair or something. I had no idea that her mom was only a year older than me. There were probably three or four instances when Keeli would just sit in my lap and cry because she missed her mom. I don't think I understood their situation at that time. It was too early on, before adoption was even a real possibility. But I remember there were a couple times, as I held Keeli in my arms, that I tried to put myself in her shoes. 
What would life be like if I never got to see my mom?
What would life be like going with strangers all the time?


That's the life of a foster kid. 


Kids are told not to talk to or get in a car with strangers.


But foster kids do these on a weekly basis.


The more I think about it, the more I realize how much Aven & Keeli changed me. 


I hated kids before I started work at that daycare.


Yes, God changed me through all of this.
But He used so many scarred children to make this change in me.


He started with Amanda's foster brothers when we were in 4th or 5th grade. Their names were Jason and Michael. Just like Aven & Keeli, they would run up to me and say, "Jennie!" I didn't understand very much about foster care then, but I remember the day I had to say goodbye to them was hard. I almost cried and I'd only known them for about three months. 


Then there was Joe. Bubba. He taught me more than I can ever express. And he still teaches me. He showed me what life outside of my safe bubble was like. That was my first glimpse into the dangers and realities of the world in which I live.


Next is (Ra)Shawnda. She was two years old when she befriended me at the daycare on my very first day of work. Her first words to me were, "Wassur name?" And then..."Come play at my house!" 
She instantly became my favorite, even though I was afraid to admit that I liked any kid at that daycare. Shawnda and I stayed close for a long time. If I saw her today, we'd still joke around like old times. 


Next was Aiden. I loved Aiden like he was mine. I wanted him to be mine. I was definitely a young dreamer. I was determined to get to the bottom of his family situation and I was so sure I'd get his daddy into church for good. I prayed so hard for Aiden. God answered that prayer. Aiden is doing good now. His dad never came back to church after that one time, but I have hope for him. God's faithful. Always. I think through Aiden, God caused my compassion to grow for kids in rough situations. 


Korey was next. Oh, my sweet Korey. He had and still has such a sweet heart. He'd been through it though...in and out of rehab with his mom and his younger siblings. Many other things were factored in there too. I remember the day I said goodbye to Korey for the first time, not knowing that I would see him again. Korey ended up being in my mom's kindergarden class and his foster family ended up being my boyfriend's family. They later adopted Korey and his two siblings. I'm so grateful for that.


Another one is Dalliz. He was about two years old and had major anger issues. My goal was to make him happy. He was only with us for a summer. But Dalliz and I had a cool relationship by the end of it. His situation was pretty rough too. He wasn't a foster kid, but his dad was one rough guy, angry himself. He went back and forth between his parents all the time, not knowing what to think of anything. He was such a cutie and such a challenge. He helped me with my patience.


Then Aven and Akeeli happened and they completely rocked my world. I could go on and on. And I will.
But this piece is long enough already. I'll go and on another time.


There was no initial point to this post, other than the fact that I needed to write my thoughts down. I suppose I hope that sharing my thoughts will somehow help you in yours. 


"The Lord is righteous in everything he does;
he is filled with kindness.
The Lord is close to all who call on him, yes
to all who call on him sincerely.
He fulfilles the desire of those who fear him; 
he hears their cries for help and rescues them.
The Lord protects those who love him,
but he destroys the wicked." 
Psalm 145:17-20

Views of Today

Broken people are what I see.

Broken people, including me.

People on the outside who stay too quiet.

People on the inside who are a chaotic riot.

Broken people who feel alone.

Broken people hid behind their phone.

People who are not close to family.

People who have given up trying to see.

Broken people with a crazy past.

Broken people who wear a mask.

People who have failed for the millionth time.

People who have given up on life’s mountain climb.

People who do forgive, but live in fear.

People who are too numb to let out just one tear.

People who want to extravagantly love others,

But are too afraid to open their heart’s shutters.

Broken people who are insecure,

who in certain places live life unsure.

Broken people who just run away.

Broken people who only say they're okay.

People who use others without even thinking, 

People who allow themselves to constantly be sinking.

Broken people who can't accept change.

Broken people who can't stand for things to stay the same.

Broken people who drop to their knees.

Broken people who say, "Lord, please!"

People who want to be made whole.

People who think of this as a goal.

Broken people who yearn for grace.

Broken people who strive to finish the race.

People who repent to the Father,

knowing that to Him, it isn't a bother.

Broken people who rejoice in the Lord,

because the price He paid, we could never afford.

Broken people who are thankful today, 

for the price Jesus paid, we don't have to repay.

Torn

"Yes. I am full of myself. After all- I've spent a long time in sin's prison. What I don't understand about myself is that I decide one way and act another, doing things I absolutely despise. So if I can't be trusted to figure out what is best for myself and then do it, it becomes obvious that God's command is necessary."


"But I need something more! For I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help. I realize that I don't have what it takes . I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decision such as they are do not result my actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of my every time." 


"It happens so readily that it's predictable. The moment I decide to do good, sin is there to trip me up. I truly delight in God's commands, but it's pretty obvious that not all of my joins in that delight. Parts of me covertly rebel, and just when I least expect it, they take charge." 


"I've tried everything and nothing helps. I'm at the end of my rope. Is there no one who can do anything for me? Isn't that the real question?"


"The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different."


Romans 7:15-25 The Message

Words Unfinished...

I long to long to write and inspire again. There is this innate necessity requiring rawness to be present. The question at hand is asking how to integrate such rawness with this inspiration I so desire. My struggle remains in the determination of what is truly real. Nothing less is aspired. My experiences of the past year have met eye to eye with rasping reality. The inspiration that once drove me became a bunch of words with dwindled belief. Beauty use to be a connotation related to so many things of life, but slowly faded unknowingly to the word, "why?" 


I am told that words are just labels of concepts. We cannot touch words. Forgiveness and grace are labels of these undeniably life-giving concepts that have the power to change everything. But when numbness takes over due to plots of evil and corrupted character, knowing that these concepts are real is equivalent to disbelieving that the Tooth Fairy exists after we've lost all our teeth and we lose that mind of a kid that doesn't doubt. But now, during the numbness of such raw stuff, we believe that the God we trusted to forgive us and love us unconditionally doesn't really exist. Just like we believed the Tooth Fairy would leave us a gift in exchange for our teeth, God give us forgiveness in exchange for our repentance. Growing up is not an option when it comes to faith....when it comes to believing in God and His realness. Children are what we must stay, tucked under the arm of God's raging love and realness. 

And I'm Reminded...

How many a man has thrown up his hands when a little more time, a little more effort would have achieved success?
The process of struggle develops your character, strength, and your mind. 
Customer Service is not a department. It's an attitude. 
If you want to know the true character of a person, then watch how they treat people who can do nothing for them- or better yet, watch how they treat their enemies. That will show you their true character.
If your faith isn't changing you, it hasn't saved you. 
If God is anything, then He must be everything. And unless He is everything, He is nothing. 
Dying to self means that you turn the other cheek when someone attacks you and that you do all you can to live in peace, even if it means getting the raw end of the deal. 
You get what you're looking for.
If you keep doing what you've done, you'll keep getting what you've got. Is that good enough?
It is doubtful that God can use anyone greatly until He has hurt him deeply.
"I don't like to think of you as needing to have 'things' pleasant around you when you have God within you. Surely He is enough to content any soul. 
If He is not enough here, how will it be in the future life when we have only Him Himself?"
-Hannah Whitall Smith