Best Job in the World

I didn't always consider being a mom as "the best job in the world". I don't even think I thought of it as one of the best jobs in the world. I never daydreamed of being a mother. Well, maybe when I was a little girl and liked playing house. I may have dreamed of being a mother then. But, once I got into my teen years being a mother was nothing I looked forward to. 

Then I became a mother. And at a fairly young age. Actually, a very young age. I was only 18 years old. Pretty young, right? I was so concerned about learning how to do things "right" that I didn't give myself much time to enjoy the experience. And I really did want to enjoy it. I wanted to milk each moment for what it was worth, but just learning to nurse was all the milking I managed. Sorry. Had to say it. And nursing was hard! Let me say that again. Nursing was HARD! I was so engorged. SO. MUCH. PAIN. I had so much milk that I had to use a breast pump before nursing to release some of the pressure so the baby could latch on. I didn't feel or look human.

In addition to nursing I was scared about the umbilical cord. I didn't feel life could resume to normal again until it was gone. I just didn't want to have to worry about it hurting my baby, but when the umbilical cord was finally gone it seemed there was something else to worry about taking its place. Rest seemed to elude me. I began the common "mom habit" of living for the future instead of living in the present moment. And I didn't even realize I was doing it.

I didn't realize I wasn't allowing myself to really smell that clean baby smell after getting her out of her bath, massaging her little body as I applied baby lotion. There isn't a better smell and I should have breathed in more deeply, more purposefully.  I thought I was simply getting her ready for bed. Bed had nothing to do with it. Not really. It was really about being a mother. And I missed it.

We can't absorb every moment of goodness a child will bring into our lives. There are too many of them. But, we can learn to absorb more moments and even learning to do that will season our souls with beauty. It scatters away the icky, pressured mommy feelings and replaces them with peace. Deep, heartfelt peace. Have you noticed it is always the simple things that provide the greatest pleasures? And when small things are good, the big things don't seem so important, do they?

"But the worries of this life... come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful." Mark 4:19

Attacked By Carrots!

A few Sunday's ago we had a rough day with some of the children we had brought to church. One boy ran away and several others were acting defiant. For the first time that I can remember we had to take some of the boys home instead of out to lunch with us. We take our outings seriously. We have got to know that they will act in a worthy manner.

Later that evening my oldest daughter, Paris, and I decided to go visit the boys that weren't able to go to lunch with us. We didn't want things to end on a bad note. We wanted them to know that discipline and love belong together. We wanted to affirm our love for them and give them the gift of restoration.

We turned into the projects and I was about to turn down the street one of the boys lived on when Paris asked if we could drive to the recreation center to pray before we got the boys. The recreation center. The place we were to start our own children's church to over 100 children in a matter of weeks.

"Mom, we had such a tough day today. I just want to take a moment and pray," were her words.

Brilliant. Prayer is exactly what we needed.

We just didn't know how much we needed it.

We arrived at the recreation center to find the two boys we were going to go visit were there with about ten other boys (ages 8-11). The government runs a feeding program in the summer while the children are out of school and not accessible to food on a daily basis. They were finishing up some carrots.

The two boys who knew us leaped with joy when they saw us. When we got out of the car they ran into our arms. They knew we loved them.

I told them to get in our car so we could go ask their parents if we could take them on a special outing. We were wanting to spend some quality time with them and talk. We are very close to these boys, having spent most of every Saturday and/or Sunday with these boys for the last eight months.

As we all began to climb into our car their crowd of friends became insanely jealous. Some of them began punching the boys through an open window. I got back out of the car to put a stop to it. As I got out of the car several children rushed past me to climb into the car through the drivers seat. The ones that weren't punching were hitting every button they could get their fingers on. They opened the trunk. They opened the hood of the car and they rolled up a carrot in the window.

Paris and I were in over our heads it seemed. They were little but they were strong and utterly persistent in their little rebellion. We were trying to pull kids out of the car when they began pummeling us with carrots. We were under attack. And the only thing I could think was, "if we can't handle ten kids, how are we ever going to manage 100?"

When I got the last kid out of the car, I noticed the threats he and another boy were making to the two boys we picked up.

S.O.S.

The boys declared an S.O.S. would be enacted against our two little friends.

"I'm going home to tell my older brother right now," he yelled.

As I began to drive away the two boys were in a full panic. Come to find out S.O.S. means "smash on site". The boys who made the threat had older brothers who were leaders in gangs.

Somehow our good effort to help these boys turned into their lives being threatened. Seeing how the boys were attacked in front of our very eyes, left me no doubt they were were in danger.

When I pulled out onto the street a boy threw a rock at our car. It hit the mirror and left a nick. 

If there is one thing I know you have to have with these kids, it is respect. I knew it was time to retrieve some. I threw the car in park and got right back out of my car while it was in the middle of the road. I turned toward the kid who threw the rock, the same one who threatened the S.O.S., and pointed my finger directly at him.

"I'm going to go see your mother! She is going to hear about this." I declared fearlessly. Never mind I didn't know who or where his mother is.  

That eleven year old boy came back at me fierce. He didn't say a word. He just started coming my way with stomps that should have shaken the core of the earth. He pulled off his shirt in heated rage as he made his way over. Let me remark that he had lots of muscles. Very cut. I decided to hold my ground.

As he made his way over I noticed people had come out onto their porches to witness all the commotion. 

"Do you know who his mother is?" I asked them from the middle of the road.

"I sure do!" was one woman's reply. His uncle is right over there and I'm going to get him now. I've been watching this whole time. I saw what they did to your car." 

She then let the boy have it from about a quarter block away, "I've been watching you and I'm going to tell your momma what you did to this lady!" she yelled with sobering sincerity that immediately deflated the boys rage.

We were saved.

I got back into the car to find two boys scared to tears. Literally. It was the S.O.S. Getting his mom involved made it worse. They felt doomed. And I felt responsible.

We went to see the mothers of the boys we came to pick up. We asked if we could take their boys out for some ice cream at McDonald's. They agreed to let them go. 

I was driving down the street when I saw one of the ring leaders walking down the sidewalk by himself. It wasn't the boy who pulled off his shirt. It was the other one. 

"Let's ask him to go with us to McDonald's," I suggested. Their dreadful response made it look like they were going to wet their pants. 

"No," they began to plead but it was too late. I had already made up my mind.

"Boys, scoot over. I'm going to get you out of the S.O.S.," I assured them as I rolled down the window.

"Hey, want to go with us to McDonald's?" I asked as if no conflict had ever existed between all parties present.

"Sure," he said and he got into the car.

"Where do you live? I need to ask your parents if you can go."

He showed me where he lived and his dad came out. His dad looked the part of what anyone would guess a gangster to look like. Not to stereotype, but everything at that moment had gang written on it to me. 

I asked his dad if I could take his son to McDonald's and then I asked him if he would be willing to help volunteer at the outreach we would be doing in his neighborhood. I knew the kids would respect him. They crave attention from dads. He agreed to both. I got his phone number and we took off.

I used our time driving to make friends with the boy who moments before had been causing so much trouble. Now he was acting like the son of Bill Cosby himself. I introduced myself and apologized that I couldn't take all the kids who were wanting to go with us. He apologized to me for being rude and told the boys he would cancel the S.O.S.

"It doesn't matter because (the other boy) still has one on us," they moaned.

"Well, how about we get him a milkshake and make a little visit?" I wasn't about to give up. I really didn't feel like I could.

The other boy told me he would help us. And that is exactly what we did.

I pulled up to his house with a milkshake. Incredibly, he was outside with his mother. I walked up to him to give him the milkshake. I couldn't help but throw in a hug as well.

"Sorry, I couldn't take all the kids. I didn't have enough room and I didn't know any of you. My name is Ms. Kara."

He was soft as could be at this point, away from the crowd. I introduced myself to his mother and told her what strong leadership skills her son has. I told her that if he could use those skills to do what's right then he could help a lot of people.

She agreed with me and wished out loud he didn't cause so much trouble. I told her about the outreach we would be starting. I told her, in front of him, that I could use his help if he was willing to help me.

He said he was willing. Lord knows I would rather he be for me than against me.

And peace was made. Another S.O.S. canceled.

And two little boys were once again safe.

And Paris and I learned that we do, indeed, need prayer. Lots and lots of it. Because we are in over our heads. But it feels so right to pull people towards the light.

"I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of satan to God, so that they may recieve forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified through faith in me." Acts 26:17&18

"For He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the Kingdom of His beloved Son." Colossians 1:13

When we pulled into our driveway we realized we needed to clean out the car. It was full of carrots. 

                                                 When I found the little boy who ran away.

Enough

Day 2 of daily writing challenge.


A lot of people claim to have a life verse. I never found one but I think one has finally found me.  It's a recurring verse that seems to be my life motto at this point.


What verse is it? 


Luke 9:13 "But Jesus said, 'You feed them'."


"God", I ask, "who's going to feed all these children after church?" 
"You feed them" is the reply.
"Lord, whose going to feed the kids when we go to Atlanta or North Carolina?"
"You feed them."
"Lord, whose going to help feed the kids on our weekend outings?"
"You feed them."


Not long after Jesus' request to feed the crowd the disciples made a plea.


"Impossible!" they exclaimed. "We only have five loaves and two fish."


I can relate to such a plea. I think "we only have...." has been upon my lips a few dozen or so times. But we bring what we have and He makes it work.


He has been faithful to provide enough.


Let that bring Him praise. When there was forty at our table. There was enough. When there were ten living in my home there was enough. No matter the number or circumstance He made "enough" happen.


When we were in Atlanta my husband, Jack, and I went to buy snacks for our group of 15 (We had brought inner city kids to Atlanta to volunteer at the Dream Center). When Jack pulled up our account balance it was at zero. Not anywhere near the amount it should have been. There had been a mistake made and when we called about it they told us it couldn't be fixed til Monday. So there we were in Atlanta with no money and a lot of kids to care for.


Thank goodness for sisters. My sister wired us money. And there was "enough".


But then God did something on Sunday that was so unexpected. The Dream Center has a church service so we went on our last day. At church they called me and my oldest daughter forward to share why we were there. We told them about the outreach we had been doing with the kids and that we wanted to inspire the kids we work with to do more in their own communities. We also shared how we were given a building to use in the projects to do ministry from. 


Well, the pastor decided to take up an offering for us on the spot. I had never had something like that happen. It was so touching. 


God again showed that no matter the amount: zero, five fish, money orders, offerings... He can make it be "enough".


Oddly, my husband's income has doubled over this last year but still God has made it turn into "enough". 


As scripture says: "As goods increase, so do those who consume them." True. True.

We're Starting A Church!

My sister has challenged to me write on my blog daily. We'll see how long this lasts. 


The biggest thing going on at the Akins' is a new outreach project we are launching. We are starting a church in the inner city projects!


Now that is an extreme statement. Starting a church. You have to realize that my husband has never been a deacon or any type of church leader. He hasn't even taught a children's Sunday school class. I have taught children's church but my area of expertise comprises of little else.


So why?


Well, because there is a huge need. We were apart of doing a VBS in the projects this summer and right at a 100 children came each and every night. They walked because the building is in their midst. 


My family has been picking up children from this very neighborhood each Sunday to take to church. Even with two 15 passenger vans we had to turn kids away because there wasn't room/time. Seeing these children walking to VBS got me thinking how easy it would be to just have church in their neighborhood. That way we wouldn't be limited to how many kids we could pick up for church. Also, I couldn't bare the thought of these children having to wait til next summer to be ministered to. These kids face such opposition. I knew their chances of victory greatly diminish without a constant source of encouragement in their lives. They needed a light in their midst, not once a year.


So we are getting a couple building to use for FREE!


One building is a big gym with a stage and a kitchen. The other building has a library with several empty rooms and two other kitchens. Only God.


The plan is to offer snacks and tutoring/mentoring four days a week (M-Thur) and church on Sunday.


When my oldest daughter interned in their inner-city school the gaps in their education were surmountable. There is a huge need. The plan right now is to begin tutoring days with a rotation similar to Curves, the workout place. Children will be at each station for about 60 or so seconds and then move to the next. Each station will have something for them to do such as going over phonics sounds with an instructor to filling out a multiplication chart (answers provided), etc. (We'll have some stations mixed in that are more like jumping rope, hula hooping). The point of the rotation is to get them familiar and comfortable with things that are foundational to education. Things that so many of these children simply do not know (even in middle school). If they do it everyday they'll begin to learn and then we can easily continue to build upon that knowledge.


After rotations we are going to break up into teams for a competition. Each team will be given so much time to memorize something that we have been teaching them. They may get five spelling words or the "2" times tables or a Bible verse. After a few minutes of memorizing the teams will compete to win.


This exercise is to help the children develop memorization skills and build confidence. Once they are convinced they are capable of learning then they'll begin to understand their true potential.


We will then help the children with their homework and end our time together with sports or crafts.


An exciting part is they can earn fake money for the thrift store we will be opening in one of the rooms they are allowing us to use. This is an exciting way for us to meet some of their tangible needs while rewarding progress and good behavior.


The church service on Sunday's will be catered mostly to children because a lack parental involvement is a persistent problem. We will have all the children meet together for worship.We are planning on starting an inner city choir but that may take a little time. After worship we will play some sort of game to hint what the lesson is about and then we'll have the children break out into classes catered to their own age. Then we will meet back together again before we are dismissed. Then we will end with a community lunch. These projects house 1,600 people. We will be plunged into the harvest to say the least.


Our goal is to get parents involved and as they begin to come we will offer them classes and get them plugged in. 


At our house most conversation revolve around this topic. Ministry in the projects.


That's what's going down at the Akins'.

Story Told

I've been asked to write an update about the three boys who came to live with us, and I'm just getting around to doing it.


It wasn't simply laziness that distracted me. It was wanting to wait and see what would happen. This story took an abrupt turn and I wanted to see what the outcome would be. I bathed it in prayer and hope. And the faith inside of me didn't want to share with you something that didn't reflect what I could see with my heart. But I am ready to share now, even without fruition of prayers answered. If you are ready to listen.


I met the boys through our bus ministry at church. I would bring them to my house a lot, especially on Sunday's. One day I got a call from their mother, asking me to take in Matthew, the ten year old. He had multiple behavior issues and she just couldn't handle him. And when I say behavior issues I mean he is known by police officers in the surrounding area because of his violent outbursts. He isn't allowed to attend regular school and was been committed to psychiatric hospital multiple times. I knew the urgency of the situation and responded immediately. I drove to Walmart and bought him some clothes. Nothing from his bug infested motel room could come with him. When I got to their motel Matthew was excited. He always wanted to come live with us and now he was getting to. Matthew had always done so well in our family that I had a lot of hope things would work out.  


Having taken in a homeless child in the past, I knew there was some legalities that I would have to take care of to take him across the state line, where I lived, and home school him legally. When I spoke with their caseworker she informed me that the state was already planning on removing Matthew and his four brothers from the home. She told me that their grandfather would be willing to take custody of Matthew's brothers if I would take custody of Matthew. I agreed.


When I got to court the case worker informed me that the grandfather was only willing of taking custody of the two oldest boys. If I wouldn't take custody of Matthew and his two younger brothers then they would be placed in state custody. The judge needed an answer immediately. I didn't even have time to call home and ask Jack, my husband. But I already knew what his answer would be. I agreed to do it.


Matthew had already been living with us for a few weeks by this point. He was doing super well. He excelled in school, doing all his work and even working ahead. His ability to memorize spelling words was uncanny. He had a photographic memory and carried himself like he would be a future contender in the National Spelling Bee. He was ecstatic his two younger brothers would be joining him.


When my husband and I (told you he would do it) picked up the boys the lice was so bad that they were literally falling off their heads. I put the lice shampoo in their hair before they even got in our car. Those suckers were still alive thirty minutes later when I got to my friend's house. I needed help, and even though it was late in the evening, I knew the person I could turn to: one of my best friends, Stacy. She is a hair dresser. There was a season of life that we hung out daily. She taught me how to sew. We use to let our kids play while we sewed them all matching outfits and then we would take all the children out and pretend we were the Von Trapp family. Loved those sweet, simple days.


Stacy shaved the boys heads. Had to be done. No way around it. 


And then we brought them home.


At first Matthew was happy to have his brothers join him. But that lasted about twenty minutes. Something turned on in Matthew when his brothers walked in that door that he didn't have the power to turn off.


Was it the pressure he felt to parent them? He couldn't control the two year old. Matthew became frustrated at everything he did. And then he displayed resentment to his eight year old brother. He didn't want him to have anything special. 


The sweet, cuddly Matthew disappeared and a very angry, frustrated Matthew emerged. One day we were doing family devotions. We were talking about how Jesus helps us to have victory. He became agitated and declared that he would never have victory. "You don't get it. You all already have victory", he stuttered. "I'll never have victory. It isn't going to happen to me." Broke. My. Heart.


The temporary custody we agreed to, before the judge, was turning into permanent custody. The boys parents had failed to follow thru on anything the court had mandated. We had the three boys for several months at this point and Matthew's behavior worsened towards his brothers, and for the first time, towards our family. His outbursts were so violent that we implemented an emergency exit strategy for the other children to shield them from the trauma. They had to go a room and lock the door. Sometimes for hours.


One evening, on a Friday night outreach, the unexpected happened. And it changed everything. 


On Friday nights I take a group of impoverished girls out. I volunteer through Young America, an incredible ministry to at risk youth.  My older children and I pick the girls up in a large 15 passenger van and take them into the community to minister to others. We always go out to eat and do something special for the girls. Because of Matthew's behavior problems he always came with us. I couldn't leave him at home with younger children.


On this particular Friday evening I noticed a girl needed shoes. It was cold and the need couldn't be ignored. So when we were finished with our evening I dropped all the girls off except the one who needed shoes. I got permission from her mother to run into Walmart for the purchase. It was right around the corner.


It was late. Maybe that's why Matthew was walking so slowly through the store. He wasn't be compliant but in our hurry we just scooted him along. The girl ended up with a buggy full of things. It was too much fun to pass up. But poor Matthew wasn't so happy about purchases that weren't for him.


At the check out counter he seemed to cheer up. He liked the cashier. Her name was Jeannie. When Jeannie rung up the price on a pair of boots the price was wrong. She sent another employee to go check the prices. When he came back he reported that the boots weren't on sale. This is when Matthew tells him and Jeannie that his mommy steals by changing the prices on things. They assumed I was his mother. They both turned red and gave me that you"re busted look.


I explained to them I wasn't his mother. Matthew chatted with them a while longer and then it was time to leave. He learned the other cashier was John. Matthew can display such depth of anger but he can also display such depth of love. He loved Jeannie and John.


Things were good until in the parking lot Matthew went berserk. I was holding his hand when he suddenly broke free from me and ran back into Walmart. He was screaming that he wanted the cashiers Jeannie and John. No one could catch him. The more attention he got, the more animal like his behavior became. He started threatening to murder people and kill himself. By the time the manager got on the scene Matthew had crawled up onto a shelf. The manager wanted the police called. Understandable. Things couldn't get too much worse for a ten year old in Walmart. 


Matthew was still screaming for Jeannie and John when the police showed up. The officer asked to have them paged. Minutes later here come Jeannie and John walking through the small crowd of onlookers, wondering why the police wanted them. When Matthew saw them his countenance changed. The heavy breathing stopped. No more talk about murdering people. He climbed down off the shelf and ran into their arms. He had each of them sit beside him. He forgot about the crowd for a moment. Forgot about the police officer. He just began chatting with his new best friends. Then he would get angry out of nowhere and start breathing hard. Telling the police officer to have me hide the knives at our house.


The police officer informed me that he would have to take him to the hospital. And that was the beginning of Matthew leaving our house. I went with Matthew to the hospital and stayed with him until they took him away at two o'clock the next afternoon. They wanted him to stay for at least a week then we could get him back and hopefully get him stable again, which he really hadn't been since his brothers joined him at our house.


The hospital diagnosed Matthew with schizophrenia, bi-polar (which children aren't normally diagnosed with) and severe ADHD. 


Matthew's situation was so dire that unless something drastic happened to get him stabilized again we knew he couldn't remain in our home around other children. Since he had done so well with us before his brothers came we sought out a family or two that would help us out with his brothers so we could focus on Matthew. We thought if he came back to our house without his brothers being there then he would have a better chance of adjusting. One of my best friends, Angela Parsley, and her husband Tony, of Refresh My Soul Ministries, came to the rescue. They decided to take the baby, who had just turned three but was undeveloped. Their best friends, the Simpsons, would take the eight year old, sweet little Daniel, who couldn't be a better behaved little boy. Since we were all good friends we could get the boys together often. The judge agreed and Matthew was able to return to our home without his brothers competing for our family's attention. Attention, something all three boys desperately needed.


When Matthew was released he lasted two days. The first day back we had a blast at Chuck E Cheese. The second day was another exciting day in downtown Chattanooga at the Children's Museum. But come the third day his violence returned. Like. No Other. My poor children were looked in a room from 9 AM until 2 PM. That's when the police showed up at our house.


Matthew calmed down and the police officer allowed him to stay. But the very next day the exact thing happened. Violence. Like. No. Other. My children were again locked in a room for their safety from 9 AM until 3 PM when the police came. We had to inform the state. Matthew was declared level three, which is one step below having to be locked up 24/7. By law he had to be placed with someone level three certified and live in the state of TN, where his case was being monitored. 


So there we were, the Simpletons, orphan-less. Defeated. Because we wanted Matthew to have deliverance. We had worked with him for two years. He had loved our family for two solid years like he loved Jeannie and John. And then things changed. 


On the way to the courthouse to see the judge regarding Matthew I got a phone call. It was a friend who I hadn't talked to in a long while. She had no idea what had just happened with Matthew. She was just calling to inform me that she met the most incredible lady that is level three certified in the state of TN and she takes in boys just like Matthew. I couldn't get her number fast enough.


When I called her I promptly told her about Matthew. She could have, and sometimes did, finish my sentence when I was describing Matthew and the abrupt change he had made for the worse. She made her calls and put in a request to get Matthew placed in her home. That way I could still get him on the weekends like we had been doing for so long. I was ecstatic because Matthew wouldn't get lost in the system if she stepped in and our family would continue to play an important role in his life.


She made phone calls and Matthew would have been placed with her but her house wasn't large enough for another boy. She already had custody of several boys just like Matthew, who were thriving under her care. But if she had to move, she was willing to move! She soon put an offer in on a house. The appraisal on the house she wanted to purchase was too low and the deal fell through at the last minute. So I have just been waiting for her to secure another home. In the meantime Matthew was placed with another couple who is level three certified but just not very kind. My friend visits with Matthew and keeps her eye on him and recently told me she may get custody of him by the end of this month. We're praying.


Matthew's brothers at thriving with their new parents. The three year old is learning to talk. He has made such immense progress. God truly has blessed those boys with the very best of homes. The eight year old is living in a little Disney land with a big tree house in the back yard and is saturated with the presence of a very loving God on a daily basis. My heart can only rejoice at seeing them both so well cared for. They are where God wanted them. If I were to have known we would lose Matthew I would have kept the boys. God had a different plan. And the goodness of His plan minsters to me and so many others. I bend my knee to His sovereignty.


On another note let me share something else. I had always been close to the boys' parents. We had helped out their family multiple times and they knew we loved them and their children. They knew it in the deepest part of their being. Their mom and I even went out to dinner once and just spent time together talking. I knew she was an addict and a horrible mother. But I loved her. And, like I said, she knew I did. 


I loved her but I had reported her to the state multiple times. What they were doing as parents was a crime against children. Multiple people reported them but the state was so saturated in cases that they took an awful long time to intervene. When I appeared before the judge I had to report to the judge everything I knew about their case and I had to do it in front of them. I even showed the judge a picture I had taken of the large infested scab on the back of Daniel's head caused from the lice.I told the judge the husband told me that there was a meth addiction. And a few other things.


As you can imagine they weren't so happy with me and pretty much blame me, not themselves, for losing their children. So we didn't talk much since that day. All I heard was how angry they were at me.


A few days ago I felt so burdened for this couple. I wanted to reach out to them and try helping them. It just felt like they were needing another chance. God provides those for us along the way. It's a work of His endless mercy. A perfect combination of discipline and mercy is what we all need. When we're low, His kindness has a way of leading us to repentance. So I called them but was told by the motel they were gone. I assumed homeless.


And then Sunday I got a call from them. They had been living on the streets for five days. They wanted to know if I could help them. God had already laid upon my heart to help them. I was thrilled to do so. My husband and I jumped in the car and went to pick them up. We took them to the store and bought groceries and got them a room for a week. We loved on them. We let them know that just because we did something that hurt them, we weren't against them. Things couldn't continue the way they were living and something serious had to be done. It was an intervention from God to take how they are living seriously. Because it would be better for them to tie a millstone around their necks and hurl themselves in the sea then to cause one of thee little ones to stumble. And they got it. They softened. At least for a day and they were reminded that God wants better for them and that He is able to get them better. If they want to be.


They invited me to come to their state appointed visit with Matthew this next Saturday. I haven't seen him in three months now and my heart is aching to. I am looking forward to the visit and I'll try to post a pic of us. All of us. In this great big story of life with all its complexities. A story that isn't just about Matthew but his brothers and his parents as well. It's about the Parsley's and the Simpson's and the Akins. But mostly, it's about Jesus.

                                          Me and Matthew on our visit 

Good-bye Simple

The simplicity of my life was challenged with the entrance of three boys.

I don't know how having six children ever got so simple, but simple is what we were. Emphasize "were". I always said if we were a reality show we would be boring. The children read too much, sleep too late and obey much too quickly. It would probably be equivalent to watching Santa's reindeer live online. They just don't do much.

Then entered the three boys.

Three boys living with us, the "simpletons". And life was no longer boring. It was fun taking children from a dire situation and giving to them everything. Giving is the fun part. But taking on such a challenge requires more than giving. It requires sacrifice. Sacrifice is giving when it's no longer fun. It's giving when perseverance becomes necessary.

I have learned a thing or two about the reality of our worlds combining. It's tough. It's tough because I don't like bugs. The thought of them keeps me awake at night. And with one visit to their grandfather I was again at the starting gate. Lice shampoo and washing and watching everybody's head like a hawk to make sure no lice lived to repopulate. And then the mysterious rash over my body. And my sons body. The same rash the boys showed up at my house with. Scabies? Maybe. Gross. $150 to treat everyone. And another $150 to treat everyone a week later because that's what you have to do if you have scabies, fyi.

Three boys:

One boy that's two and likes to get into everything. Yes, he got my eyeliner and wrote on my bathroom wall with it. And I was standing right beside him as he did it. He's that sneaky and that quick. Keeps us all on our toes.

One boy who is eight and nearly perfectly behaved and absolutely no trouble. Who deserves so much more attention than he currently gets because our attention is urgently required elsewhere.

And then the ten year old. Who I love so very much but has threatened to kill each member of my family on multiple occasions. So not healthy for little ears to hear.

And there we are, the "simpletons", learning life isn't as simple as we once thought it to be. And most of the time feeling grateful that we have the chance to dim some of the chaos in the lives of others. And at other times thinking our tiny bit of good may not achieve as much as we wanted.

But the greatest lesson I have learned is that what we think in the moment isn't really all too relevant. That time I thought I could do this... that was a fleeting feeling. And that time I wished I never heard of motels kids...well, that feeling didn't last either. My feelings are too fickle to base decisions on.

All I look to now is my daily bread. He, our Father in heaven, knows how to provide for His children. He knows how to renew the weary with strength. He knows how to teach us to hold on, even when He requires us to let go. He knows that it's okay for us to realize that our strength is frighteningly limited because it will help us appreciate that His strength is not.

I have learned that He can bestow upon us peace beyond understanding and that such peace is worth more than all the treasure in the world. And I have been convinced that He is able to reveal His will with the utmost clarity.

And when I don't feel Him. And when my feelings are in array. All I have to do is wait and see what He will speak to me. He will again turn my heart towards the right direction and when He does I will know that peace. The peace of knowing you're on the right road. The peace that allows one to hear the applause of heaven.

Bedbugs and Boys!

Last time I went to pick them up they were covered in bedbug bites.

I remember my grandmother talking about bedbugs when I was a little girl. I thought they were a thing of the past. How wrong I was.

Many of the children we work with have them. Since I often bring these children into my home I have to be on the lookout. My oldest daughter had an episode where she woke up with what appeared to look like bedbug bites a couple nights in a row. I had a professional come scout our house for the creatures. He didn't find any but suggested we discard her queen size mattress to be on the safe side. Oh, just get rid of an entire queen size mattress. Tears.

But the Lord came through. Out of the blue I got a phone call from a sweet lady at my church, which is full of sweet ladies by the way. Her neighbor had a brand new queen mattress she was wanting to get rid of. Let's just say it was much nicer than the one we threw out. But even in view of this heavenly provision I was still afraid of bedbugs.

Well, the two boys I went to pick up were covered, and I mean covered, in bedbug bites. The motel in which they were living is festering with them. I just couldn't do it. I told them they would have to fix the bedbug problem before coming over again. I called the motel manager. She was rude, and then she was more rude. How someone can grow callous to small children covered in bedbug bites is beyond me. They even had a baby brother in their room who also was covered in bites. This meant nothing to her so the bedbug issue lingered.

A month and half later the bedbug issue was finally resolved but I was still hesitant. I love these boys but I was so stinking afraid of the bugs. Most of the time when the parents told me an issue was resolved it NEVER was.

Me: Do they have lice?

The Parents: No! Not at all.

I go get the boys and sure enough, they are covered in lice.

Almost all the parents of these extremely needy children tend to parent this way. So I delice the kids at my house. But bedbugs made lice seem like ladybugs. I cowered at the thought of them.

So over a month had gone by and I still hadn't seen the two boys that use to come over to our house every Sunday. Tiny bugs were standing in my way.

Then today happened. I got a little more brave. I decided to tackle the bedbug issue head on. All I needed was to bring them to my house, let them shower while I washed every piece of clothing they were wearing or brought with them. A friend donated some of her son's old clothes for them to put on after they showered. They've had their share of putting on my daughters' clothes while their things were being washed, which is what we had to do when treating lice. Their tiny bodies couldn't keep on anything of my thirteen year old son's. They look several years younger than their actual age.

Once I began moving past my fear everything fell back on track. I wasn't paralyzed any longer.

And then it happened.

Again.

Love for them flooded my heart. It's a love straight from the floodgates of heaven. The Bible talks about God pouring out His love into our hearts. That is exactly what happened. His love began to fill every crevice of my heart and beyond all doubt I knew it was a supernatural love from heaven itself. It cannot be mustered up by human effort or desire. It can only be poured into our hearts by our heavenly Father.

The Bible also tells us that there is no fear in love. When I became afraid, the supernatural love I had felt for the boys since the day I met them seemed to switch off suddenly, much like a light switch. The moment I allowed myself to push past those fears the love of God, once again, began to pour into my heart. It was as if a switch was suddenly turned back on. And there is no better light then the light that radiates from love.

So tonight we had twelve children in our house. The two boys, mine and some others.

After some of the other children went home I decided to take three of the boys to Walmart to pick out something special. I told them they could each have $10 to spend. Yeah, right! Let's just say I'm a sucker and that works to their advantage sometimes. But it was so much fun to shower them with kindness. Just think how many times, we as parents, shower kindness on our own children. From lolly pops to little toys we tend to do special things throughout our children's lives without even much thought. That was the type of love I longed to show them on our "special" outing.

On the way home I asked the boys what they wanted to be when they grow up.

One of the boys, the one with extreme behavior issues, said he wanted to be a pastor. He was so adamant, so certain. It seemed he was slightly hurt that I had to even ask him. "Don't you know!" he exclaimed, more then he questioned.

Now I've spoken "pastor" or "president" over many a child I have met. Meaning, I tend to tease them, telling them (half joking and half seriously) they they are going to grow up to be a pastor or the president of the United States. I can't help myself. I guess the pastor part resonated in his heart.

But you know what the sad part is? He isn't even allowed to go to church right now. He's spending the night with me and I was going to take him to church but I was told he isn't allowed without his parents being present. His behavior issues can be that explosive. They're afraid another child may be hurt. Last time he was there the church had to call the police.

So, if he's to one day be a pastor it will have to be all God.

And wouldn't it just be SO God to take a little boy such as this and transform him into the best preacher this world has ever heard. Yes, because God delights in using the foolish things of this world to confine the wise.

I asked this sweet boy if I could go to his church when he is a pastor. I asked him if I could work with the children.

Again, he seemed shocked that I ask such questions. "Of course!" was his sweet and very adamant reply.

It would be an honor, little guy. A true honor.

And, yes, I'm sad he's banned from church. Is that right? He couldn't even be 50 lbs. How much of a threat can something so little be? Could not my 6'4" husband shadow him "just in case"?

And then I remember that this same boy was banned from my house because of something so tiny they can barely be seen. Wasn't there some provision I could have made? Sooner?

I allowed this boy, who lives in one motel room with seven other people, to face the woes of his life alone. A little boy who is special needs but I knew wasn't getting any of his needs met.

So people are people. We get afraid. We get cautious. But then one way or another Jesus comes and teaches us not to be afraid and then He uses the very faith He gives us to do great things. Great things that will always have something to do with love.

Believe

We've all heard of Doubting Thomas, right?

He stated that he would not believe that Jesus had risen from the dead unless he placed his finger in His nail scared hands. Jesus gave him the chance to do that very thing.... just so Thomas would stop doubting and start believing.

But there is more to Thomas than the story of him doubting. There's another story about him that isn't mentioned nearly as much. Maybe it's because we, as humans, are more prone to recount failures than victories. We're prone to do it to ourselves, and we're prone to do it to others... if we're not careful.

In John 11, Lazarus was sick. Actually, he even died. Jesus wanted to go to him but the disciples tried to discourage Him from doing so on the account the Jewish leaders of that area were desperately trying to kill Jesus. Jesus wanted to go anyway. Danger or no danger.

And here is the shining moment: "Thomas, nicked named the Twin, said to his fellow disciples, 'Let's go, too - and die with Jesus'." (John 11:16)

Thomas, who had shown such weakness in his doubting, had at one time displayed so much faith that he was willing to die for Jesus. Wow! What faith. What commitment. What sacrifice. And all he is known for is doubting?

Why?

I think it is because we hate to stumble. We hate it in oursleves and we hate it in others. The problem is we all stumble. We're all a bit like Thomas:

We withstand things we never thought we could.... just to crumble over things that don't really matter.
We say the just right thing, at the just right time... and then catch ourselves saying things we never should.
We believe so strongly... then catch ourselves doubting everything.

Jesus provided for Thomas' unbelief. He visited the very issue that was making Thomas stumble. He appeared in the midst of Thomas' unbelief, put out his nail scared hands and reminded him to believe.

Jesus isn't just the Author of our faith. He is the Perfecter of our faith, as well. He invites us to believe Him and then He teaches us how to keep believing... because He doesn't want us to be known as "doubters". He wants us to be known as "believers".

So, let's remember our true potential.... and let's keep believing.

Repeating Yourself?

One of the things I battled a lot in the beginning of my parenting years was frustration. It was always poking out its ugly head and it always looked a lot like me, but uglier. Of course I cried out to the Lord about it, and of course, the Lord would always provide a way of escape. Here is one of the things He showed me that transformed me into a much more lovely person.

He showed me that if I use more than "just words" to address my children then they'll be more responsive and I'll fore go the frustration that repeating oneself again and again and again always brings.

What do I mean you ask?

Well, the Lord showed me that I liked to parent with mere words (probably b/c I am prone to be lazy). He reminded of the Bible verse, "They honor me with their lips but their hearts are far from me." Well, come to find out God isn't the only one who knows when we're just giving lip service - our kids know it too. Children have an incredible sense to discern when mom and/or dad really mean what they say. Do you know what I think the most effective signal we can give to show that our expectations are sincere? It isn't yelling. It's stopping whatever we are doing and going to them directly. This shows that we're really invested (with our whole bodies) in seeing the issue out.

When children see that we are distracted when we address them I have found, at least with my children, that makes them feel they have a safety parameter for disobedience. When I am ready to give them my full attention I see that I have more of theirs.

Since I know that my children are more responsive when I am more attentive I have developed the discipline to be more hands on in parenting. I try to communicate to my children with more than just words. Our bodies are talking to our children as much as our mouths are. We want our body language to match our parenting language. When we say "I mean it" with our mouth, we don't want our body language to say, "I'm really distracted on the computer right now but when I finish this, then I'll mean it".

And we don't ever want to give our childen the impression that we really only mean what we say when we raise our voice. If that was the case our children would tune us out until we become physically upset, turning various shades of red and yelling things that would land us on the Oprah show featuring scary moms. There has to be a better way, right?

Well, children have a radar that picks up sincerity better than a hound can sniff out a critter. If children truly believe that we are serious then they will be more likely to respond with obedience. The more children learn to be responsive when we speak to them, the easier our job gets. The key thing is we, as parents, have to be consistent if we want to equip our children to be respond appropriately to a calm voice.

Another plus to hands on parenting is that you are not waiting for frustration to prompt you to move. You move based upon need, not emotion. When we aren't frustrated when we address our children then we're more effective. When we use self-control we know that we are training our children to take action as opposed to scaring them to.

Moms, if there are any topics of parenting you would like me to address in this blog please submit questions. And on each topic that is discussed please contribute what you have learned on the subject because there are moms who need to hear what you have to say.

Teenagers!

We can speak to our children's ears but only God can speak to their hearts.

I got a call from a mother I absolutely adore. A good mother. A great mother. And she told me about what she had been facing with her teenage daughter. Hard stuff. Especially because I know this teenager. And as hard as her behavior is on her parents, I know it's just as hard on her because she truly expects more from herself. What she is doing is not who she really wants to be because she knows it is not who she really is.

A lot of her behavior has been hateful. The words that have come out of her mouth could be considered nothing less. It's hard to understand how someone so sweet can suddenly act so uncaring, heartless and rude. Well, I think I may have a clue. The Bible says in Proverbs that if you rebuke a mocker, they will hate you.

Hate you? Yes, hate you.

Sadly, the world in which we live tends to teach our children to belittle correction. It is painted as unnecessary, foolish, a waste of time and a waste of breath. They mock it because they feel they don't need it, so they don't want it. They don't realize that "belittling attitude" compels their heart to step into a world of hateful behavior, whether they want to go there or not.

Just as dropping a ball sends it bouncing, mocking what a parent has to say will cause feelings of hate to come pounding on the door of the mocker's heart. Unfortunately, the abundance of the heart is what the mouth will speak. It's cause and effect and helps explain how a teen's sweetness can sour so quickly.

In unheated moments, when conversation is more fluid, there are some things we can do to help our children navigate around some of these destructive pitfalls.

1. For starters we can tell them to count on correction coming. No, it's not fun being "lectured" but it's part of life. Helping our teens be aware of this common fact braces them for such encounters and can help eliminate unnecessary drama.

2. We need to communicate to our teens what we desire their posture to be while being corrected. Parents have expectations regarding body language, words, tone of voice and response. Relating to them our expectations teaches our teens how to communicate effectively even while being corrected. Personally, I ask that my children be attentive to me when I am addressing them and ask that they use a gentle tone of voice. I often end a time of correction with a hug to communicate to my teen that my correction is meant to strengthen them, not hurt them.

3. Often teens mistakenly feel correction will last for infinity. Because they don't see hope on the horizon they succumb to impatience rather quickly. Allowing teens to know that correction, minus drama, lasts only minutes will help them to endure. As parents we need to be mindful not to get too repetitive. Once we make an effective point we need to end it there and not be tempted to keep dragging it on. As much as we would love to solve all the problems we'll face with our teen in one conversation - it just isn't going to happen.

4. When being corrected our teens need to be prepared to see our body language and tone of voice take on a serious note. Yelling is something that SHOULD NOT be done but there are situations that require a more serious stance. When rather serious situations arise, teens often get offended by our intense body language. Preparing them what to expect from us will help them to see a serious tone is nothing more than a parent's concern about a serious situation. * Note serious tone does not mean we correct our teen outside the guidelines of love. Love (which always believes, never keeps scores of wrong and isn't irritable) is a must or we ARE wasting our breath.

5. Defuse some frustration by being realistic about what raising a teen may look like. Like I said they probably won't master everything we want them to get in one conversation. Parents have to be in this for the long haul. It may take hundreds of conversations but eventually they'll get it. At least allow yourself to believe they will because our teens will pick up on what we believe about them. When we believe in them it fills them with an inner confidence. That confidence lends them the very strength they'll need to overcome foolish behaviors. Never view having to correct your teen as something negative. It is a great thing that they have someone to come alongside of them in life. Not everyone has that. Be glad your kid does.

Like I said we can speak to their ears but only God can speak to their hearts. God can touch places of their heart that the world's best surgeons can't reach. It is good to teach our children wisdom, but only God can cause them to love wisdom.

There is a promise in the Bible that says if we will draw close to God, then He will draw close to us. Since we need Him, let's draw close to Him. Never look at going to church, praying or reading your Bible as a mundane thing. Those are a few things we can do to let God know that we want more than just human effort working in our children's lives. We want Him to do what all men are powerless to do... which is change a heart.

Temptations Gone

When children come into our home I notice something. They tend not to struggle with bad behavior. I've seen children who are the roughest of the roughest turn into the sweetest things ever. Why do you think that is?

I'm not certain why but I am so glad. I hate to see a child struggle. And I know the world in which they reside in presents struggles. Hard ones. If I provide any shelter to them from life's storms then I am eternally grateful.

In the Bible Jesus exhorts us to pray like this: lead us not into temptation.

I think that has a lot to do with the level of victory a child, or any person for that matter, will experience. How much temptation are they having to face in life?

Every child has potential. Potential to stumble. Potential to excel. I believe their environment will greatly influence what the results will be.

In Proverbs it tells us that a wise woman build up her home, while a foolish woman tears it apart with her own hands. I want to build wisely. I want my home to be a shelter FROM life's storms, not a home that mimics the very storms I'm trying to protect my children from.

The Kingdom of God isn't a matter of words. It's a matter of peace, righteousness and joy. And when we allow those things to be found in our midst we'll find ourselves not stumbling nearly so often. And not just us, but our children as well.

Friends and Gates

Today I am taking the children to the pool. Four of my children and two of their friends. Two of my children are at camp at Precept Ministries.

Let's talk about their friends.

One friends is Miss Faithful. She loved us when she met us and she just seems to keep right on doing it. Love people who can love long. That's the kind of friend I want to be and teach my children to be. I always tell my children once a friend ALWAYS a friend. No matter what. Sure there will be seasons of life that people will enter and that people will exit. It's the re-entering part that intrigues me. I've had people who've exited my life reappear and I tend to like fresh starts. Cause time always allows us opportunity to learn how to do life better.... and that works on both sides.

The other friend was a promise. I promised this child that he could come over. Let me share a little bit of his life with you. He is one of five brothers that live in a motel room. His mother is seeking help in rehab right now. I told him he could come over when my son got back from camp. I've known him for a year now through church and he is a sweet, sweet boy. He's the kind of kid that turns you into a "yes mom". Whatever he wants, you want to give him.

There is something about opening your life and home to the poor that makes living good. Real good. There is a depth of goodness that can only be experienced when one is mindful of another's need.

I was thinking about the story of Lazarus in the Bible. Lazarus was poor. He sat outside the rich man's gate and longed to eat the crumbs that fell from the rich man's table. It doesn't say he ate the rich man's crumbs. It said he longed to.

I realized that we all have gates. And we all have someone sitting outside of them longing for something we have the means to give them. Some people long to hear someone sing. Others long to read something one writes. One may long to be included in your circle of friends. The list is endless.

I don't have people longing to hear me sing or begging me to write something. I don't even have a lot of people asking me for money or for me to cook them a meal. But I do have children who long to be apart of our lives. They want to see what a home looks like, how a mother behaves and witness proof of a happy marriage. They long for vision and the comfort being apart of a family provides.

Some people are afraid of doing too much for people. We should be more afraid of doing too little. If Mother Teresa is in heaven right this minute being rebuked for doing too much I would be surprised. Yes, wisdom is a constant need. But so often I think we mistake fear for wisdom. When we fear we'll find that all we've accomplished is keeping our gates securely locked.

Who is outside your gate? Is there anything you can do to help?

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