Five Minute Friday: Collect

I was made to collect.

Not stamps or rocks, shells or stickers.  I tried collecting each of those things when I was young.

No, I was made to collect facial expressions, moments and overlooked details:  that coffee stain I saw on her red dress, the way he sighed and frowned as he bent down to fix his bike handles, the checkered tablecloth in the restaurant where my mom was reunited with her family after over 20 years.

I collect to confirm and tell the world that there’s reason to hope and reason to believe beauty and strength can flourish in the most unlikely places.

Link up here!

Trading Swamps for Bravery and Belief

written for SheLoves Magazine
For the last couple months, my oldest has been dealing with a new fear of the dark. He’s the one who’s always been our good sleeper. He started his streak of sleeping through the night early on as a newborn. But now, he’s asked for an extra prayer before he pulls his covers up to his chin. He put a Lego-made cross on his headboard to remind him Jesus is with him. Whenever I ask him how he slept the next day, he says, “Good,” but he felt afraid. With a furrowed brow and half-frown, he’s asked, “Why do I still feel so afraid when I ask God every night to take the fear away?”
As a mom, I want to rush in and fix my children’s problems. Though I reject fears for myself, I offer my kids black and white answers and platitudes. It’s difficult to loosen my grip and let them walk through hard things, including this season of heightened fear for my oldest. Because it’s more than a fear of the dark, after all. I want to know they are going to come out okay on the other end of hard seasons and questions. Watching my son surrender to our “goodnight, sleep-tights” unsatisfied with his portion of felt-courage, reminds me of my own long history of fears.  Nightmares and darkness were just the beginning of a long line of oppressors who held me back from rising up to who God made me to be.
Head over to SheLoves to read the rest of the post.

When the Excitement is Heavy

We leave for South Korea soon.  I am a dichotomy of feelings.

We can’t wait to meet our little E and see her face to face.  Right now, there’s no voice to the pictures we’ve seen, no knowledge of what she looks like when she toddles around or what makes her laugh or how her eyes look when she smiles.  We can’t wait to be with her and to be one step closer to bringing her home.

We also feel heavy.  Adoption comes from loss and every adoption is complex.  While we begin to walk into these moments we’ve been waiting and longing for, we realize that this part of our sweet E’s story will be confusing and sad for her.  This upcoming moment will bring her grief and loss and knowing this breaks our excited hearts.  In the long run, yes, we know we will finally be together and she will have a forever family and a forever home; but knowing this doesn’t mean we get to gloss over the sadness she will inevitably walk through and have with her for the rest of her life in some shape or form.

All of life is one transition after another, some more obvious than the others.  It’s how we move through them and what we cling to in the midst of them that matters.  The transition ahead of our family right now feels like it has us standing at the edge of a steep precipice. On one hand, I want to tie us all up together and try to control the unknown that faces all of us.  On the other hand, I want to fall forward and head right into this dichotomy of feelings, this marking moment, this transition and this unknown future.

Today, I am trying to listen to the voice that tells me to loosen my grip.  I am believing that from the depth of sadness to the height of joy, from the familiar to the foreign, from the past to the future: there is One who is holding it all together.  

He is big enough for all of our hopes.  And those hopes?  They matter to Him. Here and there and everywhere, he holds those hopes, our hopes, with tender and able hands.


“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young. Who else has held the oceans in his hand? Who has measured off the heavens with his fingers? Who else knows the weight of the earth or has weighed the mountains and hills on a scale?”  -Isaiah 40:11-12

So, in a few weeks and months, we may need the reminders. For now, we are ready with a heavy excitement.  

Celebrating E

25 days ago,  one of my friends handed me this bright and hopeful forsythia branch sitting in a vase surrounded by grey rocks.

That day, there were 285 rocks in the vase.  In the note my friend gave me along with the vase, she instructed me to take one rock out each day, to mark the days we wait for our E.  She said to take a smaller rock out when we felt peace with our wait, and a larger one when the wait felt difficult.

Today, we took one of the bigger rocks out.  It’s our little E’s first birthday.   All day, I’ve wondered how our E spent her day.  Did she know it was her birthday?  Did she sleep well the night before?   I checked my weather app to see what the weather is like there, hoping it might tell me something more, anything more about how she is doing.  We sent a package weeks ago, and I wonder if she got it.   Did she dress up in a traditional Korean hanbok (dress) like Korean children do (and both of our boys did) on their first birthday?I’ve been thinking about E’s birth mother and wondering what she is feeling today, too.  If I could, I would tell her that that I am praying for her today and that we will honor her and the part of E that she will always be.  We know E was knit together by God in her womb.

Dear little E, you have a village of people here who love you and celebrate you today.  A birthday card arrived in the mail for you this week.  A dear friend’s little boy, who shares the same birthday as you, turned 5 today.  This morning he and his mommy brought these tulips to me, just for you.

We made you cake and prayed for you as a family tonight. This might be the first pink cake we have ever had at our house.  We might’ve gone a wee bit overboard with the pink sprinkles…

Oh little E, you are loved. You are fearfully and wonderfully made.  Happy
Birthday from across the sea, sweet girl. 

 

Hello, My Name is Not Boring

I still remember where we were standing.  My bare feet were sticking slightly to her linoleum floor as we talked in the doorway of her family’s kitchen. There’s only one part of that conversation that I still hear clearly in my memory now.  She told me that
someone described me as “boring Tasha.”
 
That day, I shrugged the comment off because I didn’t know how else to respond.  It was a little comment.  My good friend didn’t have mean intentions in telling me what was said, but those words stuck.  The description of “boring” knocked on the door of my heart and I let it move in and unpack its bags.
 
The words that we let fall from our mouths have power.  James describes the tongue like the rudder of a ship or a wild animal that must be tamed in James 3: 3-6
 
“When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal. Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. Likewise, the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one’s life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.”
 
Those simple words shared by my friend directed the way I viewed myself from behind the scenes of my life for years after that seemingly insignificant moment.  
 
That was over 20 years ago. I didn’t know that what was spoken wasn’t true at the time.  I didn’t know that people who make comments like that and, furthermore, feel they are in a position to talk about someone that way, are usually very insecure hearts who have also believed lies spoken about them. 
 
It’s taken Jesus’ relentless pursuit of my heart, days that turned into years of reading my bible and living in community with others who spoke truth and grace to me, to believe what’s actually true about me (and you).  What’s actually true couldn’t be farther from the word “boring.”  What’s true is that you and I are masterpieces, created by the God who created the galaxies and the beautiful cluster of stormy, sea-blue irises that I am so eager to see bloom outside of my dining room window again this spring.  
 
What if the words you casually said today stuck with someone for the next 20 years or more, wrapping around them like a set of caged bars, hindering how they move forward in the world from this day on?  Or, what if the words you intentionally spoke today stuck with someone and set them free to move into the places God purposed for them to be
with courage, confidence and conviction?  
 
Our words matter.  Many of us need to learn to keep our mouths shut even though our opinion-frenzy, social-media-driven world tells us we are allowed to comment and “speak” our thoughts and emojis whenever we want.
 
Some of us need to learn to speak up and speak the words God meant for us to speak: words of truth sandwiched between grace and love.  There is fault in not speaking a
good word when we know we can and should.
 
“Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow
up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole
body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when
each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up
in love.”  Ephesians 4:15-16
 
Some of us need to put into practice taking words and thoughts captive before we speak them or keep them. On one hand, our tongues can do great destruction; on the other, they have the power to heal.
 
Proverbs 16:24 says, “Gracious words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.”
 
There are huge, heavy, heart-breakingly terrifying things going on in the world today and the topic of “words” seems too simple and almost invisible in light of them. However, James reminds us that just as an entire forest fire starts with a small spark, a word from our tongues yields the same power.  Solomon reminds us that our words can soothe the soul and heal our bones.
The words we choose today have the power to affect the next generation of hearts and news headlines tomorrow.  Will you set a forest ablaze or plant a forest with your words?