Point of Vulnerability

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

James 1:27

I had been spending some time with this verse prior to knowing anything about GAP Ministries or ever having considered foster-parenting. What had caught my attention was the last part, "keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

I was coming at it from the perspective of someone who wasn't working with "widows and orphans." I appreciated the third "option" for genuine religion. My thought was, "Well, if I'm not working with the "homeless and loveless," as the Message translates it, at least I can make great efforts to keep from being polluted by the world."

But now that I am in the midst of preparing to host children who are temporary orphans, I see the verse in yet another light.

I love that God's word is living and active.

This week Andy and I spent two very, very long days finishing our initial training and testing. We will be required to have on-going training (all house-parents are) over the year, but we have now passed all the hurdles to get us going.

Training was extremely difficult for me.

In part, because I realized that I am, in fact, "working" again. After nearly three years of being at home, I am jumping back into schedules, meetings, paper-work, deadlines, and a myriad of other work-related words that I haven't had to think about for a very long time.

It took me many months to get OUT of work mode, I'm sure it will take a similar amount of time to transition back IN.

But, it is tricky. I don't want to look at the lives in my care as "work." I have decided that for me, I will think about anything on paper as my job. The logs and forms and information that I have to keep daily to report to the state of Arizona about how I am providing care, those things are what I get paid for. The children that come under my roof, the conversations that I have, the discipline that will inevitably be required - those things are a privilege. Each life I encounter is valuable to God, I want to treat it as such.

The other aspect of training that was difficult was the array of horrible, horrible scenarios that we were trained for. At some point during each of our training sessions I had to struggle against tears. And on a couple of occasions, Andy and I both were fighting to remain composed.

I learned everything from how to supervise phone calls between children and their estranged parents, to how to handle children who run away from our care, to how to identify and report signs of sexual, emotional or physical abuse.

Oh, my heart breaks.

So yesterday, when I read, "and keep yourself from being polluted by the world," I had a whole new perspective. If I am not careful, things that now sound unimaginable to me, will become common place: the anger and difficult behavior I encounter will become a nuisance instead of a sign of deep hurt, the paperwork will seem like the priority over people, the wickedness of man will cease to cause sorrow in my heart.

I don't want to be dulled or polluted by this world.

I am about to encounter more of the "world" then I ever have. I have always had a family that loves me, a sense of security, a safety net. My world has been small, because I have had that luxury. But now, by my own choosing, I am opening my home to the world. I am welcoming people in who are covered with the world's pollution, either by their choices, or by misfortune. My options are to try and stay away, so that I don't get dirty in the first place, or to draw close, and let the Holy Spirit daily cleanse me, so that the pollution doesn't stick.

I hope that I live the latter.

When I went to get my physical and drug test (a very bizarre experience) the doctor who was helping me was completely baffled by what Andy and I are doing. She kept saying over and over, "Ten kids! Ten kids?!" She was very friendly and curious, but she just couldn't fathom it. After a little bit of conversation she said, "You should be on reality tv!"

Now, I confess, the though had crossed my mind. There is a certain element of the process that has seemed very detached from reality (making it perfect for "Reality TV") and like prime fodder for mass media.

Yet as I was reading, "and keep yourself from being polluted by the world," I realized that my other point of vulnerability, and entrance-point for pollution, will be my pride.

I know this venture sounds either miserable or marvelous, depending on your own personal risk-aversion. Either way, there is a sense of wonder that accompanies doing something out of the ordinary.

I am a person that loves praise. I love to put on a good show (not on a stage, that would be horrible, but I like to make things look good and easy) and have people notice all the little details I have paid attention to. I know this about myself.

I know about myself that I like to do well. Prepare yourself for a disclosure that reveals my true sin-nature, but whenever I start a new job, I always, always think, "I am going to be the best they have ever hired." There is something in me that just wants to make people love me and need me.

So, I would lie if I said wasn't walking into this venture thinking, "Andy and I are going to be the best!"

And I would lie if I said I didn't think telling people about it makes me sound oh-so-awesome.

But...

Knowing this about myself, I make it my aim to stay in step with the Holy Spirit. If I can genuinely walk with him, and surrender my ambitions to be the very best, to his goals, then I feel in a safe place. Being humble, doesn't mean not being incredible. Jesus was humble on this earth, and we all know how awesome that turned out! I firmly believe that God wants big things for the kids who come into GAP's care, and if I am a part of that, I will be so grateful! The danger comes when I see successes, and claim those victories as my own, rather than evidence of God's goodness and greatness.

So, in addition to the challenge to keep my heart soft, I need to keep my heart humble.

Easier said than done.

But with God, all things are possible.

Oh Lord, please help me as I give you my life!

...

I had hoped to give you a little more factual information to answer questions, but right now, my heart and head are so full of the process that I can't quite nail down details. Bear with me, we will get there.

Thank you for joining me on this journey!

Permission

At 11:00 this morning I was pretty sure that I was a domestic wonder woman.  I had already been to the gym, done a load of dishes, baked whole wheat pumpkin muffins (which I have yet to taste) and made my own pumpkin spice latte to save myself $3.40. Mentally I was making plans to walk Jack to the store to pick up some fresh, crusty bread for the gourmet dinner I plan on making this evening, clean Jack's room (a project that has been on my list for... um.. about three months) and tackle the laundry.   

A beautiful autumn day can inspire like that.

However, it is now after 3:00 pm and I'm tired folks. My sink is already full of the next load of dishes which has squelched my cleaning motivation and Jack is uncommonly cranky and needy which makes it very difficult to settle into a major project. 

Sigh.  

So I've changed my plans.  

I'm just going to go with the flow.  

No one has asked me to be a domestic diva.  That is all my own ambition (and perhaps not a holy one).  

I have a sweet boy who I think would really enjoy a walk to the park and a ride on the swing.  I have a loving husband who will be home soon and will rave over whatever meal I put in front of him.  I have a house that is warm and will survive yet another day of disorder. 

So why stress?  I made muffins right? I say that is a pretty great accomplishment for the day.  

So if you are having one of those days too, where your "I'll hopefully get this done today" list is woefully un-checked, I hereby give you permission to set it aside.  Order is good.  Accomplishment is good.  But friends, let's be okay with just having fun once in a while.  

So, be free!  Frolic and delight in the simple pleasures of today.  The lists can wait until tomorrow.  

Perspective

A few days ago I met some pre-baby friends for lunch.  Of the four of us I was the only mom with a baby in tow (I think they are all moms in their heart, but just without the baby yet).  As the meal drew to a close Jack started to fuss.  Personal and significant stories were shared and as much as I wanted to support and tend to my friends, Jack's cries were louder than theirs.

I left the restaurant feeling discouraged and "out of commission." In the past two years, my life has completely up-ended.  I've gone from being happily single, to happily married, to happily caring for a family.  Each addition to my life has been full of joy, frustration, acknowledgements of my shortcomings and all the things that come with significant relationships and changes.  Each transition has also transformed my perspective and what I think of as my "reach."

As a single woman I had time, money and energy to share.  Those things are still there, but as a wife and mom my first priority is to share those things with my husband and baby. What remains is what I have to give and some days it feels like so much less than what I would wish.

But here is the conclusion I've reached.  It is okay.  It is okay to mourn the loss of what I was once able to do.  It is okay to be family-centered.  It is okay to say "no" once in a while. 

What I don't want is to fall into the trap that says that I'm not as good as I once was.  It is so dangerous for me to look back at a different season and say one was better than the other.  God has given me a wonderful life that I LOVE, how ungrateful of me to say, "Why thank you God, but are you sure this is as good as what I used to do?  Are you sure I am as usable or as interesting, or as ... whatever?"

I trust that I am where I need to be.  I am thankful and amazed.  I am making time and space to listen to God's promptings and practicing discipline in prayer and study.  I'm learning to trust that He is good and faithful.  

And seriously, how could anyone regret trading singlehood for this...

To Save My Life

I'm okay with admitting that there are lots of things I do well.  

If it came down to a life or death situation I could paint a pretty awesome jungle mural or whip up some delectable crab wontons.  I could style a bride's hair, give a french manicure or a healing head massage.  I could probably even make a life-like bouquet of tissue paper flowers.  (If you are trying to think of a situation where any of these skills could save a life, stop trying.  It could happen, just go with it.)

But if threatened with the end of my life, no matter how hard I tried, there just seems to be no way for me to produce eatable cookies.  

I just threw away a whole batch of rosemary shortbread dough.  Shortbread.  How hard is that?  I printed off a fail-proof recipe from the internet and set about mixing it all up.  I didn't start my project until late last night and the dough had to refrigerate for an hour.  I was pretty tired so I thought, "Emily you are so brilliant!  Jut make the dough tonight and bake them tomorrow.  An hour, 10 hours, what's the difference?"  Apparently there is a big difference because when I pealed back the lid of my storage container this morning, the whole thing was sour. 

Gross!  

And pathetic. 

I've thrown away more batches of failed cookie attempts than I care to admit.  Even Andy, who is quick to praise almost everything that comes from my kitchen, shakes his head at my baking.  Each time I watch the pathetic lumps of baked dough drop into the garbage can I think, "I've learned my lesson.  I won't even bother any more.  I'll just admit defeat."  But then the random cookie craving hits, or my need to produce something, and what do you know, I'm back in the kitchen studying the cookbook and promising to follow the recipe EXACTLY this time.  

That is my problem.  Baking allows for no creativity.  Too much of one thing or too little of another and it doesn't work out.  I prefer to just throw together ingredients that I think will combine nicely.  Just wing it.  That doesn't work in the cookie world though.  Too bad.  

So once again I have wasted perfectly good butter, sugar and flour and have nothing delicious to show for it.  Now you know my short coming.  Cookies.  Don't ask me to make them for you.  I can't do it.  I really admit defeat this time.  

Really.

Blog Envy

Have you read some of the amazing blogs out there?  I have.  They are beautiful.  They are witty.  They are poignant.  They are enough to make you want to quit!

I can't compete with them.

Who says I have to?

But I want to be the best.  That's normal, right?  I suppose a bit of drive is a good thing, but I get mired in the bad sportsmanship attitude: if I can't be the best, I won't do it.

So lame.

Reality check: I am not going to be the best.  That is okay.  This is just for me anyway.  A place to keep in the habit of writing, and to remember where I've been and where I'm going.  Nothing world changing, just fun.  

So take that Blog Envy!  You can't keep me down!  The blog must go on!