Starting Point

Well, it’s finally started. For years I knew it was coming but I didn’t know when. I didn’t even really know what. All I knew is it had something to do with God. An important job He had for me and was using my entire life to prepare me for.

Now I’ve been a busy person in this waiting period, very busy. I was married at eighteen and went on to have six children in our first nine years of marriage. Use your imagination here and know that my hands have been fastened to the plow of hard labor. Not to mention I am a sucker for volunteering. I am addicted to the needy so my hand hasn’t been idle. But in all of that busyness I knew “it” still hadn’t happened.

Many of the things I was doing were noble and lofty things. I dare to say they were. So much so, that no one seemed to understand why I carried an excessive need to begin this other, mysterious work. People scratched their heads in wonderment, thinking I was already doing my part. How could it be I was still waiting to do something of significance? All I know is that from the time I became a Christian at the age of eighteen, that my heart was bound and pulled by invisible stings - though strings seem too insufficient a word to describe the strength of it. The power had an intensity that mimicked God. It led me to a firm belief that God Himself had a very important work for me to obtain to. And I was filled with an obsessive determination and longing to see that it was accomplished.

I just didn’t know what “it” was.

The joy of it, and it did carry a joy, was a force of power on its own. It was as if every setback I encountered in life was sealed in a promise that it too would be used to accomplish this purpose to which I was called. The bumps on the road became more bearable and my faith more steady. That is the strength that hope lends. And even though time ticked by without any visible trace of an emerging promise, I became even more confident that such a promise existed for me.

And then it happened.

And it wasn’t what I thought it would be. And I didn’t even recognize its approaching on the horizon. But when my life touched it, I knew. Just as much as not knowing can be a mystery, so it is with knowing. When it happens you can’t always explain the hows and the whys. You just know when something is missing and you know when it’s been found.

And do you know what it was? It was a bunch of children.

Ironically, I have been surrounded, and I mean surrounded, by children for the last sixteen years. I am a child magnet and being a stay at home mom means you help out with all the kids whose mother’s are at work. Twelve kids in my home? No problem. I’ve been a second mom to countless kids. So why didn’t I see this coming?

It began with a death of a young girl, thirteen years old to be exact. She lived two doors down from my mother in law. I would see her outside almost every time I took my children to visit their Nana. She intrigued me. I noticed the same poverty that had plagued so many years of my own life seemed to linger over hers as well. I felt compelled to go speak with her. I wondered about her life. What she wanted to be when she grew up. I wondered if she ever visited that church right behind her house. I thought maybe I should encourage her to do so. Her unknown potential always mesmerized me and I felt maybe, just maybe, I could somehow inspire her.
But then she died.

She was killed in a car accident days before her fourteenth birthday. It was like a punch in the gut to me because I know I never took those few steps over into her yard. I never had any of the conversations I had imagined us having. I didn’t seize the moment before me, and a few blinks later the moment was gone.
But I have found that death often sparks life. And I knew that if I would allow it, the significance of her loss would compel me to significant action. And that really is how I met all the children.

No longer could I just allow myself to pass by all the needy children roaming the streets. I needed to know their stories and contribute whatever I could to make sure their stories all had good endings. In an effort to connect with them, my family and some of our friends decided to put together Friday Fun Night every Friday night in the gym of our church.

Each week we raised the money to buy hotdogs, chili, nachos, cheese, drinks, cotton candy and ice cream…enough to feed a small army. We put up the volleyball net, brought out the basketballs and blew up the big bouncy house. Then I would jump in the church van and go hunt for kids to invite. The first week I found one kid. But that connection was Providence. The following week that kid showed up with his adult friend named Cheryl.
Sometimes when you’re telling a story, you have to stop to tell another story. Well, this is one of those moments. It’s about Cheryl. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to do so. Surely, my entry is one of longest ones submitted to which I apologize but in all fairness there was no word limit.

Let’s get back to Cheryl. Cheryl has cerebral palsy. I don’t know the extent of all her disabilities but she is much like a young child in a thirty three year olds body. She has no awareness of people’s personal space. She’ll hug you to an inch of your life. And she’s a gift person. If you’ve known her for longer than twenty-four hours, chances are she’s given you something. The last gift she gave me was a framed picture of no other but Cheryl herself. The best gift to date though has to be my birthday gifts. And, yes, that is plural.

Cheryl showed up on the second Friday Fun Night. The first one we had a great turn out of volunteers but the second one it seemed most people had already lost their steam. I was a wee bit discouraged about this and because I had been dealing with some crazy personal issues I felt like a failure. Cheryl made all the gray skies disappear. Her energy matched a team of horses and she was bent on helping me find some children.

It was Cheryl’s suggestion that I go to the Lodge. And that’s really when “it” happened. The Lodge is what we call the motel a few blocks from the church. It is filled with drifters and impoverished people who pay by the week or day, fighting tooth and nail not to be kicked out onto the streets. But many are. At one time I opened my home to a young girl for this very reason. She became homeless and was pregnant and it felt like the right thing to do. And it was the right thing. No regrets, give God praise because anyone would know opening your home to a homeless person you barely know can be….well, a lot of things besides good. But miracles happen so it was good and it stayed good.

So even though I had been to the Lodge before I didn’t realize it was flooded with children. Lots and lots of children. And when I saw them I instinctively knew this was the place casting directors should go when filling rolls for their movies. It’s where NBA coaches should scout for their next world renowned player. These are talented children. These are beautiful children who could grace the cover of any magazine but instead are immersed in poverty, neglect and all the woes those imposters usher in.

Anyone with any perception at all would recognize an encounter with these children, is an encounter with the heartbeat of God. No one upon the earth has had the pleasure of seeing God smile, but whenever you’re with these kids you can feel His smile. There’s an absolute knowledge that when I am treating these children well, I am treating God well and He in return will treat me well. It’s much like living a scene out of the Bible. Jesus tells us to store up treasures in heaven. When you’re working with these children, the Lodge Kids is what we call them, that’s exactly what you feel like you’re doing - amassing treasures untold in the heavenlies. And the pleasure of it transcends heaven and falls upon our hearts.

When my heart touched their potential everything clicked. Their depth of need seemed to match my depth of desire to serve. The unknown became the known and I realized I was encountering the very thing I waited my entire life for. Their vast problems were overshadowed by the overwhelmingly obvious treasures each child possessed within them. And I was compelled into action for our mutual benefit and pleasure.

It was as if I birthed another fifty children in a single day. And all the concerns and plans I had for my own children were transferred to them as well. This is where the goals/conflicts arise:

Getting them to come to church was rather easy. Getting enough adults to be there to spend time with them was tougher. Now I understand why Jesus said the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Challenge: Learn how to recruit good volunteers.

Many of the children have lice and bed bug issues. Boy has my world changed. My family home schools for crying out loud but we have had lice four times since working with these children. We need to set up regularly scheduled lice inspections at least once a month and TREAT children with lice shampoo and pull out nits for them because many of their parents aren’t willing to do it. And we need to educate them about bed bugs and encourage them to report bed bug infestations to the proper authorities.

Transportation is tough. Many lodge kids have moved or invited other children to Friday Fun Night so it takes about two hours to pick everyone up and another two hours to drop them off. The same thing happens on Sunday mornings, Sunday nights and Wednesday nights because a lot of the Lodge Kids have also begun to attend church. Since I already have six children it is tough for me to take the children out on special outings because I need a larger vehicle. Challenge: We need more vehicles that seat at least fifteen passengers.

I am concerned about the children doing well in school. I would like to set up after school accountability and help with school work. I would like retired teachers and college kids to get involved. I want to set up these outreaches in churches close to the schools the kids are attending. I want to call it T.A.P. Tap Another’s Potential.

I would also like to begin working with summer camps across the nation, asking them to host children based upon their needs, gifts, talents and abilities. Meaning, I would like to be able to place a child who’s good in basketball at a basketball camp, etc. Again, this is to reinforce positive direction and help the children develop their potential.

Any momma, and that includes me, wants to expose her children to beautiful things and places. I have that same desire for these children. I would like to take large groups on outings, mission trips and general fun things around town. Money is an issue because most of these children can’t afford to do much, if anything at all.

These are some of my dreams for the lodge kids. We'll see what God does.

Let's Hurry!!!

It use to be that I didn't enjoy myself very much. Everything I had to do as a mother seemed like a big CHORE. I was always wanting rest and rest was always eluding me. The needs of my children (at the time there were two) seemed unending, so every time there was a need it always took me off guard. AGAIN? I would say to myself. I JUST.... fill in the gap. My little blessings had turned into burdens and I didn't even recognize the fact that I had succumbed to that conclusion.

I specifically remember going to Target one day. The children had to use the restroom. Of course. I didn't want to go to the restroom. I hate public restrooms. I immediately went into "let's hurry mode". My plan was to get in and out of there as quickly as possible so I could move on with life - which was trying to get out of Target as quickly as possible.

NOTE: Torment= A mother with small children trying to hurry. Period.

Anyway, I was in a hurry. They used the restroom which was an ordeal in itself, always was. When they were washing their hands they wanted to get the soap themselves. I wanted to get the soap for them so we could HURRY. Then they wanted to get their own paper towel. I told them no. We were in a HURRY. Then the Lord spoke to me. "Why are you in such a hurry all the time? Is the president waiting for you? Is there some important engagement?" Actually, my schedule was pretty much open. I was a stay at home mother. I actually had nothing to do. Most of my day I fought boredom.

The Lord then challenged me. "Why not enjoy your children? Why not let them get their own soap? Their own paper towel? So little makes them so happy. That in itself is a gift that only lasts a short time." I realized one day pulling the paper towel lever won't be such a big thing. Maybe I should enjoy it now.

That day life began to change for me. I resisted the silly and even pointless urge to always hurry through life. I decided I was going to stop and smell the flowers and let everything I do be fun with my children - even the WORK they required. God has honored that desire and the burdens I felt when parenting my children are overshadowed by the blessings I am now experiencing.

Children are A LOT of work but think of all the EXERCISE we're getting! If I could just sit all day would I really want that? No! God is true to His Word. He wasn't lying when He said children were a blessing. When life beats us down and we begin to look at them as burdens, then we can cry out to God and He can change our perspective. I have never had God leave the prayer of, "Help me to love and ENJOY my children" unanswered. Not only can He help me to enjoy them, He can even help me enjoy pulling a paper towel lever.... and enjoying our children will cause our peace to flow like a river.

Slowing down to enjoy everyday life with my children is one of the greatest lessons I have learned as a mom. A mom once told me she saw me leave Wal-Mart with five children and she noticed I was having the best time and smiling. And, yes, I did say Wal-Mart. She thought it was because I was a great mother. It was really because I serve a great God who pointed out to me the source of much of my frustration and lack of joy. He taught me how to relish in my life's work. My God taught me to smell the roses....even in public restrooms. And even when the roses look a lot like paper towels.

"Sons are a heritage from the Lord, children a reward from Him." Psalms 127:3

Angry Mom

I guess being a mom of six children has required me to learn a thing or two about the whole parenting thing. I guess it would make sense to post a word of encouragement/advice from time to time to encourage other mothers. Even if it is advice you already know it can stir your heart to hear it again (mine, too). Mommas talking about being mommas makes us want to be better mommas. That simple.

Parenting

Topic: Tone of Voice

One of the things I pay the most attention to when addressing my children is my tone of voice. The secret to great parenting is now out of the bag. I say that because when a mother controls her tone of voice when addressing her children people's ear perk up. They're impressed. So simple, but so effective. I have also learned over time that if my tone is good then how I respond and/or address my children is good, too.

My advice for today is if/when you become irritated or if there is an "issue" to address then first find a gentle tone. Also, allow your hands, touch, etc to be gentle. Gentleness actually deters irritability and produces amazing self control. It makes you feel like a REAL MOM and not an impostor that should have a photo on America's Most Wanted.

We can't discipline, train or inspire our children towards better behavior if we're irritable so taking a moment to shake off the irritability is worth it. Our tone of voice greatly effects our level of irritability. Tired of being so irritable all the time? Then try changing your tone. In addition, incredible words of wisdom (I mean sentences that you can't believe came from you and not Dr. James Dobson) tend to flow from a controlled tone of voice. And when we have no control over our tone.... let's not even think of the things that can come out of our mouths when that happens! It's enough to make the best of the best of mommas wince because of their own "shocking" behavior.

Verse:Romans 12:21

"Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good."

Pictures of the Family

Humiliated...I Mean Humbled!

They call it a Datsun but I called it a good ole cup of humble tea. It was the car I drove when I was pregnant with my third child. The year was 1981, that's the year of the car, not the year I drove it. The car had two doors, perfect for getting children in and out of car seats. You know I am lying. The passenger seat, which I sat in every time the hubby drove because this was our ONLY car! Anyway, the passenger seat was not bolted down all the way so the seat rocked back and forth like a rocking chair. If I wanted to see where we going then I had to really flex those stomach muscles to sit upright. Most women lose muscle in their stomachs when pregnant. I developed a six pack. I know you are all green with envy for an '81 Datsun.

The car did have a good price tag. We got it in exchange for a king size head board (foot board, too). When I was 18, and bought the bed for $800, I assumed it came with a mattress. Teenagers... what do they know? Well, come to find out the mattress wasn't included. That would be another $800, so we never bought a mattress. We simply hauled around the bed for several years until our neighbors (who had a king size mattress but no bed) asked us if we wanted to swap their '81 Datsun for our king size bed. Considering our car had just died it seemed like a good thing to do. My husband was weeks away from graduating from college and we were trying to buy a house so we were avoiding debt at all costs. We made the swap.

And it would have been okay....if the car would go when you pressed down the accelerator. The car had a mind of its own. It moved if and only if it was good and ready. Patient the car was. Now I was officially Jesus crazy at the time so I was determined to exercise all faith required to master the driving of the Datsun. I prided myself in the humility I displayed as I drove the thing around town. I mean could there be anything more humiliating, I mean humble, than driving that thing around? I thought I must have been the most humble person in the whole city, make it America....or maybe even the WORLD!

The car broke down several times a week but that was an "opportunity" to trust Jesus. Did I tell you I was Jesus crazy? I can't tell you how many times we had to get out of that car and lay hands on the thing. I remember on one occasion Santa Clause stopping to help us get the car started. Seriously, it was the man who did Santa at the mall. His picture was hanging up in our house - I mean two bedroom duplex. The duplex will have to have its own post one day because it doesn't seem right to have lived in a two bedroom duplex with three children in the middle of America. Was that even legal?

Anyway, Jesus put up with us. He got us from place to place, Datsun and all. And out of pure sympathy to our situation He laid it on someones heart to get us a car. She was a woman we met on the side of the road. The Datsun wasn't even broke down, we had just stopped to look at something. She loved our family and did the math - three babies won't fit in that car. She called me one day and asked where we lived, saying she had a gift for the soon to be born baby. She dropped off a bag filled with diapers, clothes, car title and keys. She didn't even stay. She left the car parked outside our duplex. It had four doors! It wasn't brand new but next to the Datsun it looked like it came right off the assembly line.

Do you know it wasn't long after she gave us that car that someone bought her a brand new Toyota Celica! She also went into a shoe store and won $500 the very next week. The woman has the gift of giving and God gives back to her so much more. Her name is Ladonna and I for one want to follow her example. She is a cheerful giver AND I'll never forget what she did for my family.... and now neither will you, I bet!

Running For My Life

When I was born my father was in prison. The state removed my sister and I from the care of our mother. We went from home to home. As a teenager I went to live with an aunt and uncle for a few years. One day they announced that not only were we going to go to church, but that we also had to go to Sunday school. Church is something we didn't normally do. I was clueless about church AND Sunday school... beyond clueless. When we got to the church I was sent to this large room full of teens. I had moved around so much growing up that I felt comfortable just blending in. I didn't approach anyone and no one approached me. Then, out of the blue, the leader told all the kids to go to their classes. Classes???? I had no idea where to go and no one seemed to notice me. Everyone simply got up and headed to various destinations. I had two options: 1. Approach someone and ask them where I was suppose to go. 2. Leave the church and walk a few blocks over to Warehouse Row (a place with all sorts of clothing stores and cute little shops). I opted for Warehouse Row.

The church was located in downtown Chattanooga,TN. As all the kids headed to their Sunday school class I made my way outdoors to freedom - so I thought. It wasn't too many blocks into my walk before I noticed how empty the streets were. I was beginning to wonder if Warehouse Row would even be open at 8 am on a Sunday morning. I was way past being naive here... I was into stupidity. How I didn't know everything is closed on Sunday mornings in the heart of the Bible belt is beyond trying to defend, so I won't even try to.

Right about the time I began questioning the reasoning of my great plan two men spotted me walking down the street all alone in my church dress and mini pumps. It only took them half a second to decide to pursue me. It quickly turned into a race for my life, I knew that without doubt. There wasn't another soul on those streets - no person, no car, no office open - nothing. I crossed the street, so did they. I turned the corner, so did they. I was so far from the Lord that I didn't even ask Him for help. I didn't even think to cry out to Him. But God in His mercy sent what I didn't deserve: a policeman! Out of nowhere he came driving by and saw me being chased by those men. He pulled up, opened his car door and asked me to get in. When I got into his car he couldn't help but question me, "Where are you suppose to be right now?"
"At church" I mumbled in relief and embarrassment.
He drove me to the church and I got out of the police car. I went into the service, found my aunt and uncle and sat down. I didn't dare tell them what had happened. I would like to say I listened more intensely to the sermon and gave my life to Christ but I didn't. I didn't even think to tell the Lord thank you.

Do you know what? When I did become a Christian at age 18, I had a HUGE desire to go to church. I hadn't invested any money on church clothes so I had to search my closet for something to wear. I could only find one dress. Do you know what dress I found? The one I wore the day I skipped Sunday school when I was 16. The one I almost died in. The one I was wearing when God delivered me, even though my prayer life was so non-existent that I didn't even think to ask for help, nor bother to offer up a praise after He did. As I put the dress on the magnitude of what God had done for me became obvious. I felt such remorse that even after He saved me I didn't even pay attention to the sermon or bother to ever go back to church. I couldn't help but question Him as to why He even stooped so low to save me. He answered so clearly that it took me by surprise. He said, "On the day I saved you I saw you wearing this dress TODAY. You NOW see what you WERE but I always saw what you would be. I knew that this would be the dress you would wear to church today and I saved it for you. And I saved you for me ."

When I was asked to join a speaking team for the "Be Still, Get Real" conferences I was told I had to meet our sponsor. Do you know where I was told to go to? That church. Yes, God doesn't just see what we are. He sees what we will be.

"Deal bountifully with Your servant, that I may live and keep your Word. Open my eyes, that I may see wonderous things from Your law. I am a stranger in the earth; do not hide Your commandments from me." Psalm 119:17-19

The Plane's Going Down!

Way back in 1995, my friend and I decided to fly to Colorado together. She had just graduated from college and I was expecting my second baby. I was going for a big "break" before newborn number two came and she was going as a treat for finishing college. Problem was she had never flown on an plane before AND she is a little bit on the hypochondriac side. The flight out there wasn't too bad. I would even venture to say she did well. But, our flight back was postponed some hours because of a snow storm. We finally got boarded on the plane in the wee hours of the night. We were seated right next to a neurosurgeon. That made my friend feel a bit better to know a doctor was close by. She even asked if he would perform surgery on her in the event of a crash. Surgery wasn't what he thought she needed. He was thinking medication. Lots and lots of medication. When the plane took off we ran into some turbulence. Actually, a lot of turbulence. So much so that my friend phoned her parents to inform them the plane was going down. Back in 1995, that call cost her $35. She really thought and acted like the plane was going down. Everyone else on the plane was snoozing away. Everyone but the doctor. He was rewriting that prescription for something stronger. I made every effort to calm my friend. How about singing praise songs? She wouldn't go for it. Didn't amuse her at all. What fun is that? I decided I would talk to her about the Lord. I began to say things like if we did die we'd get to see Jesus face to face. I tried to get her excited about the glory of it all but she didn't get excited. She only got more frightened. I went on to inform her that God is so worthy of our trust that the plane could be a ball of fire crashing down to earth and we wouldn't have to worry. We didn't have to be afraid. Now I am a very animated person when I make a point and I don't even know how to whisper. It was about this time the doctor began writing another prescription. This one was for me. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out which one of us was more crazy!

A bunch of girls from church went out to dinner the night before last and my friend told everyone this story. I was laughing so hard. I had forgotten about it. I am older now and realize just how bizarre we must have seemed. Nowadays if I was in a plane going down I think I would be a wee bit worried. Excited to see Jesus but worried. So, doc, if you're reading this: the medicine worked.