"Do you want to get well?"

Our Sunday School class is currently studying the book of John.  We read this passage last week and it has been with me all week. I can't shake it. 

 

5 Some time later, Jesus went up to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish festivals. ² Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda^[a] and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. ³ Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. ^{[4] [b] 5} One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. ⁶ When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”

 

It's that last line that gets me.  Look at the facts.  This man has been disabled for 38 years.  He is faithful to go to the pool and attempt to get in the water hoping for healing.   He is waiting for something or someone to heal him.  Of course he wants healing.  I think, "Why would Jesus ask him that? Doesn't he know this man has searched for healing? Doesn't he see the need for healing? Why the question?" 

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Several People in our class had great commentary about this passage.  I listened intently as everyone passed around their thoughts regarding this passage.  We touched on how Jesus's healing would bring about several changes in this man's life.  Physically, his world would change.  He would no longer be the man at the pool begging for help.  He would be able to work.  To provide for himself without relying on the help of others.  The life he had known for 38 years would change in an instant.    

 

Spiritually, this man would be changed as well.  His faith had been in this pool of water that he visited daily without hesitation.  He tells Jesus late on in the passage that he can't get into the pool because other People get there before he does, but his faith in the healing of the pool never waivers.  Now, the Thing he was most certain would do the healing, the one thing he had placed all of his trust in, is NOT what heals him.  Instead, a man asks him a simple question, and the healing is done.

 

Why did Jesus ask? If he knew the man needed healing.  If he knew the man would never experience full life without this healing, why ask? The more I mulled over this question, the more I realized this passage isn't about the man at the pool.  It is about us.  It is about me.

 

Jesus is asking us all, do you want to get well? Do you really want this life in Christ? The biggest misconception about being a Christian is that it is easy.  I really think Jesus was speaking directly to us when he asked the question.  Becoming "well" in Christ changes you.  It changes every aspect of your life, and Jesus knows that.  He knows that when we become new in Christ, our old nature is still in battle with our new life in Christ.  He knows that healing comes with consequences, both good and bad. 

 

The reality of that question, for me, is this; As a Christian, am I really allowing Christ to make me well? Am I allowing him to work through me? Am I asking him for healing from the sins that keep me from a full life in him?  Do I really want to be well?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Boy Fever = Mama Madness

She's gotten the fever.  Help us Jesus, once you've got it, you can't get over it!

 

 

Well, it has happened.  Even with all the restrictions, talks, and lectures we've given about it, it happened anyway.  Doesn't it always happen?! Why can't we just lock them in their bedroom until they are 30?! I mean really?! WHYYYYY!!!???

 

Maisie has the fever.  The boy fever.  I thought we were on top of things.  Keeping her busy.  Encouraging her to just be friends with boys. Boys require so much less work and produce way less drama as friends when compared to girls.  Even with her daddy's threats of "breaking a kid's arms if he sees them near Maisie".  Nothing has worked.  Nothing. 

 

This fever is a killer I believe.  Once they've caught it, it's over.  Her innocence is being chipped away every time a boy says "yes" to a weekend of "boy friend/girl friend" status.  That's about how long these little relationships last.  Now we are in the stage of fighting over boys.  Really.  If a girl dates a boy for 48 hours, apparently he is hers to claim forever.  And no one, and I mean NO ONE, is allowed to even talk to him without the harsh consequences of being talked about, bullied, or my favorite-ignored by the other girls who were your BFFFFFFFF just ten minutes before. 

 

My girl isn't ready for all of this.  I mean really.  Wasn't it just yesterday when the most important thing to her was not missing "Good Luck Charlie" on Disney? I'm sure just a month ago we were most concerned about walking dogs and riding bikes. 

 

Overnight she's become CONSUMED with boys.  And she will admit, most of them, she doesn't really like, but she only "dates" them because her friends tell her to. 

 

Where are the other parents? Are they struggling with too? Why do I feel like I'm the only one who keeps saying "no" to the questions like "can I go to the movies with ________ (insert boys' name here).  Am I the only mother who really reads texts, monitors pictures on Instagram, or refuses to buy clothes that have little to the imagination in order to preserve the innocence of my 13 year old daughter?

 

Will she ever lose the fever, I highly doubt it. Will I continue my work of being the "worst mother in the world" because I won't give in to her? ABSOLUTELY!

Ramblings....

This is a rambler.  Sorry in advance.

 

 

I can hardly believe it is August already! Really, the middle of August!  The summer has flown by since Daniel left in June.  We talk everyday.  Facebook is amazing.  Sometimes I wonder how exchange students and host families really handled the separation way back before the Internet.  Love technology!

 

Daniel has started his senior year, and we are anxiously planning his return trip to our home next summer.  It's tough. He's a special kid.  I could go on, but I won't.  I'm liable to cry about it. I miss him.  I thought it would be easier as the days wore on, but it's not.  He'll be back home soon.  :)

 

Our newest addition, Florian, arrived on Friday and he is great.  Right now we are still working through the "awkward" first few days.  I will have to say that he seems to fit right into our family.  He's very easy to talk to.  He and Robert are already bonding, which is great.  Robert is usually pretty quiet, but he is making more of an effort to talk.  You know Robert, he only speaks when necessary.  I'm thankful he is stepping out of his shell and taking the initiative to start conversation with Florian.  They are cute together washing dishes after dinner every night.  Boy bonding. 

 

Maisie is doing great.  We just celebrated her 13th birthday.  Every year I think it will be easier to deal with her growing up.  I'm wrong.  She's such a beautiful girl.  She is very witty.  I love her sense of humor.  Even when she is sassy, I love her stubbornness.  She is for sure my child.  She will start 7th grade on Monday.  I'm not sure I'm ready for it, but she seems to be. 

 

 

I'm anxious to see how the school year goes, but I definitely don't want to wish the time away.  I'm learning to treasure these kids every day.  Before I know it, it will be June and Florian will be leaving.  Then I'll blink again and Maisie will be grown and gone.  Learning to slow down and not worry about clean floors, folded clothes, tidy bedrooms.  That can wait.  

 

"Whatever you do unto the least of these, you have done unto me" Matthew 25:40

Why do we wait to go to a third world country to find "the least of these"?

 

My struggle is this: Why do we ignore "the least of these (the hungry, the broken, the lost, the poor, the down trodden) in our own neighborhood?

 

I believe in missions.  The Bible is very clear that we are to "go and make disciples of all nations."

I fully believe that God calls people to short term mission trips and also long term missions.  I don't argue that. 

 

What I struggle with is this: We will get on an airplane and fly for hours on end to a third world country to love on precious, dark skinned children. YET, when we are home, we separate our children from their brown skinned friends.  We discourage inter racial dating. We get uncomfortable when someone of the black race (I'm just being real honest here guys) enters our church and tries to worship with us.  Why is that? 

 

Why do we see a difference in a child that is need in another country and a child that is need in our own neighborhood?

 

Why do we allow our children to play with kids of other races at school, but if they asked for them to spend the night, or to go to their home, or begin dating that person, we flip out.  Be real here. What sense does that make?

 

Why do we only show God's goodness, grace, and love to people of opposite races when we are away from home and in their country?

 

Why do we snap pictures of ourselves loving on an orphan of a different race, but would never think to adopt a child of that race from our own country? Are they any more/less deserving of a family than those children we are certain need love and a home here?

 

I have a hard time reconciling these things in my own life.  I struggle.  My prayer is for God to break my heart and to show me my own hypocrisy. 

 

 

Well, it has really been a while...

So, our computer is on the fritz.  The one I was using is now in Mexico with its owner. Sorry to be a bad blogger!

 

 

I am the worst blogger ever.  Well, let's start over.  I am the worst computer owner ever.  I managed to tear up my second laptop about three months ago.  Thankfully our sweet Daniel was letting me use his laptop.  All in Spanish.  A wee bit difficult to blog on.  Right now, I'm at work taking a quick break. 

 

Things have changed so much around our house.  That seems to be a recurring theme in our family.  Change.  God must love watching me squirm and stress when things are out of my control.  One day I will learn to trust and relax.  Today ain't the day. 

 

We are moving, again.  Yep. You read it right.  Again.  Our sweet country house was sold, so we are moving back to town to an adorable craftsman style home with an attic bedroom fit for a...midget.  Unfortunately, our next exchange student is 6'1.  He's gonna have so much fun up there! Bless him.

 

My sweet Daniel went home last week.  Broke my heart to send him back to his mama and daddy.  They seem to be wonderful people and they have done and incredible job raising him.  I just want to be stingy and keep him to myself! I hate letting go.  Not seeing him every morning and making sure he is alright is tough for me. He has plans to come back next year and live for the summer. Counting down the days until he returns.  He brings such fun to our lives.  He's a great kid and I know he is going to be an even better adult. 

 

We are hosting our last exchange student this year.  His name is Florian and he is from Germany.  Seems to be a great kid.  I love doing the exchange program, but I HATE the goodbyes.  HATE.  I keep thinking it will get easier, but it never is.  Never. 

 

 

Maisie is doing great.  She has been in summer school this month which she totally hates. But, really, she needed a little push in Math.  A little extra practice never hurt!  She is growing so much and I know she is going to be 16 and gorgeous before I know it!  I mean really, she is starting 7th grade this year! She was just in 4th grade yesterday, wasn't she?!  Where does the time go?  Have I told you how much this girl loves her daddy? She a d o r e s him.  Her face lights up when he comes home from work.  She always wants to be where he is.  It's precious really. 

 

 

We're still praying about direction for our next adoption.  Maisie wants a sister.  I'm not so sure about another girl.  There's enough drama queen-ness between me & Maisie.  I'm not sure where another girl would fit in! I would like a younger child.  A baby would be great, but we're still praying about that. 

 

Maybe I'll be a better blogger in the coming months.  I wouldn't count on it though!!!

 



Goodbye 20s

What really makes up a decade?

 

Yes, I know it's ten years. 3650 or so days.  87,600 hours.  5,256,000 minutes.  But really, it is so much more than just time. 

 

When I started this decade, I was a young bride,  happily in love.  Still in the honeymoon stage, I just knew the world was ours to conquer. I was certain that every plan I had ever made for my life was going to fall into place.  Certain.  If Ebenezer's Ghost of Christmas Future had visited me, I would be sure he had the wrong house.  The wrong April. 

 

Because, if you asked me at the wise old age of 20 where I would be at 30, this would be my answer:

I'll be living happily in Florence with my dear husband and our four, yes four, children.  Each red head child would carry a name that either began with "S" or "K".  My beautiful children would be spaced just perfectly at the ages of 8, 6, 4, and 2.  My husband, he will be working still with Atmos.  He will be the loving father I always knew he would be.  I would be the happy mother at home chasing my two youngest children while also keeping an immaculate house, helping with homework, cooking a home made meal, and maintaining an incredible figure for a mother of four. Our families would be present in our lives, and our children would be so blessed because their grandparents lived just a few short miles from our home.  We will be happily attending church at Cleary, and our lives would be just abundant. 

 

Of course, those were my best laid plans.  Those were the certainties I waited for.  The things I thought we deserved.  If you know my family, you know that my best laid plans haven't happened quite how I thought.

 

As I look back over the last ten years, I realize my plans were not too much to ask for.  I see that my life would have been great if it had worked out the way I planned.  But mostly what I see is that my planned out life was missing one major thing.

 

FAITH.

 

It's easy to see that things are going to be okay when they have always been okay.  It's easy to be happy and joyful when your life has always been comfortable.  When things are new, or hard, or heartbreaking, you find out who you really are deep down.  There are many ugly things in me that have been purged because of the way our life has worked out.  There are many things that still need work though.  I've found joy in things that I would have never thought possible if my cookie cutter life would have worked out.  I've met incredible people and made precious memories.

 

The last ten years have been a  mix of joy, heartache, change, maturing, forgiving, saying goodbye, saying hello, and all sorts of things.  Although my plan didn't quite work out the way I hoped I am certtain of this the last ten years have made me a better wife, a better mother, a better daughter, and a better friend. 

 

As I enjoy my last day in my 20's, I have decided that 30 isn't going to be so bad!  Maybe I'll end up with those four kids, or that hot body, I guess we will have to wait and see!

Maybe School Just Isn't Her "Thing"

I've decided, school just isn't my baby's "thing". Is that terrible?

 

 

When we started this whole home school thing, I was very apprehensive.  There are the obvious concerns like, "How will she socialize", "Will she actually learn anything?" "Do I have to teach her everything?"and this is my most self centered one "When will I ever get a break from her!!" 

 

After being more than 9 weeks into this, and still not finished with the 1st nine weeks worth of work, I can tell you this: I don't know how Maisie has skated by these last few years in school! Wait, I do know how.  She was snatched from school to school until she was around 8. From that age until she was placed with us, she attended school in "facilities". That means school was secondary to her emotional well being. I am thankful for that, but there is still the obvious, home girl just doesn't have the basics. 

 

I should state this, she does know how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide.  She can read. She does know enough to get started on school work, but heaven help us, she does not RETAIN anything.  She wasn't taught how to study, or how to work things out in a process.  She never learned the basics of language and parts of speech.  She's not familiar with the concept of "digging" for answers in her text books.  Lord knows HOMEWORK is a foreign word to her, and I'm sure you other mothers can attest to that one.  

 

It's very frustrating for me because my parents pushed us when it came to school.  There were no exceptions, no excuses.  I hated it at the time, but now, I'm thankful they stayed on top of us about our school work.

 

When we first got Maisie and school became and issue, we didn't know what to do.  We pushed her. We punished her. We bribed her.  Nothing seemed to work.  It has taken almost two years for us to realize, school just isn't her thing. 

 

She may not ever be a "A/B" student. I don't think we've lowered our expectations on her. We still require she put forth her best effort on everything she does.  Sometimes, her best effort results in a C.  Sometimes, on a really good day, her best effort is an "A".  A victory for us is when she actually does her schoolwork and keeps up with the class.  A win for her is being able to tell us what she learned in a difficult class that day.  We're going to focus on the wins. 

 

Her daddy said the other night, "I'll just be happy if she doesn't hate school and we can get her to graduation."  Bless him.  I'm guilty of pushing her to the point of hating school and hating me. I can't do that to her anymore. 

 

For now, I'm going to celebrate that she is keeping up in her class.  I'm going to mark today as "successful" because she is putting forth her best effort, and that's all I can ask!