Category: Christian

Kids These Days (or so, they say)

A few months ago, I listened as a gentleman of a different and older generation say, “I feel sorry for those of you raising kids in today’s world.”  His words, although meant to be sympathetic, sort of frustrated me a bit.  I keep seeing on social media and hearing through conversations that children these days are just “doomed”.  They are spoiled.  They want immediate action.  They are not being raised “right”…whatever that means.

Essentially, there is no hope for the younger generation…or so, they say.

Last week, I was a guest speaker at a local Vacation Bible School.  I spoke to around 200+ children from ages four to thirteen.  My topic was about what they can do to help foster children in their communities.  The four-year-old’s through Kindergarten ages just did not quite understand what I was talking about, so we decided it would be more fun to sing songs.  Besides, that’s way more fun, anyway!  Right?  After we were done, this little sweet-pea of a girl around the age of four came up to me and said, “We can give books to babies who don’t have them.”  Oh, be still, my heart.

The eighth-grade boys…well…yeah.  Let’s just say I’m SO looking forward to my son being in the eighth grade.  NOT.  Major kudos to those of you who teach this age group!  Don’t get me wrong.  They were respectful, but you know…a little “too cool for school”.

The first through seventh graders were listening with intent.  When asked what they could do to help out children in foster care, they offered, “Help find them a home”, “Invite them to church”, “Tell them about Jesus”, “Give them a Bible”, and “Be nice and be their friend.”  Children as young as the first grade were suggesting these things.

Afterward, I thought about the words of the older gentleman and his worries for those of us raising kids in today’s society.  I also thought about the different editorial posts floating around Facebook and other social media forums that suggest that children of today do not have a chance.  Call me an idealist, but I disagree.

Sure, life is vastly different that it was in the 70’s, 80’s, and 90’s.  I was a young girl in the 70’s, in Junior High and High School in the 80’s, and a college student in the early 90’s (which, by the way, was awesome).  Life is different now than it was during these time periods, but you know what is not different?

LOVE.

FRIENDSHIP.

GENEROSITY.

COURAGE.

COMPASSION.

CURIOSITY.

OPPORTUNITIES TO MESS UP.

OPPORTUNITIES TO MAKE IT RIGHT.

EMPATHY.

THE NEED TO CONNECT.

THE DESIRE TO DO GOOD.

Just a few days ago, my daughter told me that for one of her birthdays she wants to ask people to give gifts to homeless children and families, instead of her.  Let that soak in a bit.

If my little sampling of children from Vacation Bible School and my daughter’s expression of what she wants to do are a reflection of “kids these days”, then I dare say, they are going to be just fine.  So, please stop saying that children growing up in today’s society are doomed.

Quit judging us parents.  We are doing the best we can (just like you were when you were raising kids).  I am raising three children in today’s society.  They struggle with various issues, but let me say, THEY ARE GOOD CHILDREN.  They might misbehave from time to time, but they know right from wrong, and they have hearts that desire to seek friendship and to help others.

For the love of children, please stop thinking that all kids are just spoiled or misbehaved or don’t care about their fellow-man.  I mean, come on.  IF they are this way, then really, who should we be blaming?

If you think today’s generation of children is not going to turn out okay, what are you doing to help?  Can I offer you a few suggestions?

  • Help a young family that is struggling.
  • Tutor kids at the local school.
  • Teach a Sunday school class.
  • Volunteer at the local Boy’s and Girl’s Club.
  • Work with at-risk kids.
  • Invite the neighborhood kids and parents over for dinner.
  • Donate gift cards and other items to families in need.
  • Love on that single mama doing the best she can.
  • Encourage that daddy who is working two jobs to make the bills and put food on the table.
  • Become a reading buddy to sick children in the hospital.
  • Pray for families, children, and the world.

I can go on and on, but I suspect that you get the point.  Or, at least I hope you do.

Please, stop saying that kids these days are not measuring up to what you think they should be.  I, for one, refuse to believe this.  If you spend any amount of quality time with a young child, I dare say, you will be amazed.  They are not doomed.  They are just beginning to sprout their wings into this vast world.  They are learning about the world around them. Sure, there are things they face and deal with that we may not have as children, but still, the world has a lot of beauty in it.  Let’s make sure we show this to them.

Our young generation will be the next teachers, parents, doctors, pastors, political leaders, chefs, scientists, explorers, artists, engineers, and caregivers.

For my children and for yours, 

or the teenage boy who helps his disabled mother raise his younger siblings,

or the child who sells lemonade on her street to raise money for others,

or the young person who visits the elderly lady down the street because she is lonely,

or the boy who sticks up to the bully at school….

why would you think they are simply not adding up or are “doomed”?  

After all, children are our future…

Give that a thought.

 

 

 

Adoption is Different

My child: “Mom, who was your first mom?”

Me: “Well, Mamoo (name the kids gave my mom) was my first mom?”

My child: “You only have one mom? You didn’t have a first mom?”

Me: “No. Mamoo is the only mom I have.”

Silence…This is a snippet of the conversation I had yesterday with one of my kids. It came completely out of the blue – like most of the conversations we have had about adoption, birth parent(s), etc.

This child has been with us since just a few days old. This child never lived with a biological parent and is extremely bonded to us. Here’s the deal, though. It is wrong to assume that “the child may not question as much if you get him/her as a baby”. It is also wrong to assume that the child will never wonder about biological family, or compare his or her own histories and situations to other people’s situations.

Adoptive parenting is somewhat evolutionary. As the child grows, their concepts, understanding, and desire to learn about their stories evolve. It is our responsibility as parents to be comfortable with this. And, it can be tough.

Once the gavel falls and declares you as the adoptive parent(s), your adoption story is really just beginning. Look at it this way: The paperwork, court processes, placement, and finalization are really just the introduction to the story. The rest…well, that is where the “meat” of the storyline really comes to life.

Adoption is different. I’m not ashamed or offended when that is suggested. It just is. However, in the difference, there is a great opportunity for a richer, more meaningful parenting experience, and for you, as the parent, to be challenged, humbled, and continue to grow in life .

This, my friends, is just one more way that I am learning my life is far from barren.

America, the Beautiful {thoughts from Independence Day}

20160704_215557 (1)America, the Beautiful.  The land of all whose free.  Yet, in this land, we fight and rage over what we think should be.

America, the Wonderful.  The home to which we love.  Yet, in this home, we worry and wonder what the future is made of.

Where have you gone, you mighty beast?  The mountain of the brave.  In our freedom, we spit and blame, leading so many to be enslaved.

Bring back the few, the furious, the ones who believed in truth.  The ones who fought so early on, laying foundations for our youth.

What if they could see us now?  How offended we easily become.  Is this what they battled for?  Isn’t this what they escaped from?

What happened to our invitation for the weary to our shore?  Since we did we become so bitter that we desire to shut the door?

The persecuted masses, the tired few, the ones who seek to breathe free.  What about the longing souls who want to kiss liberty?

America, the Beautiful, I still believe in you.  You raised this daughter to be one who seeks joy in things anew.

I still love you, my blessed home, the terrain of diversity.  Show me, teach me, prove to me that we will turn away from perversity.

We live our lives so liberated, free to do as we please.  Yet, in my mind, I fear and wait for the moment we are brought to our knees.

Our Lady Liberty exclaims these words, “…I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” America, sweet land of mine, these words we should not ignore.

America, the Beautiful.  The home of bravery.  Perhaps, it’s time that we reflect and consider our history.

Author’s note:  As I watched the fireworks last night, I thought about our nation.  With all of the political stuff going on and the “war of opinion”, I’ve been thinking a lot about the valiant ones who fought for our liberation, some losing their lives, for the very things that we take for granted – religious freedom, free will to set our own paths in life, and freedom from tyranny.  I think it is important that we truly remember who we are.  A land of immigrants.  A land of multiple origins.  A people who sought freedom for all.

A people of promise.

Let’s not forget that.

This Place of Grace

Wow, friends. This has been a sad week for so many. From personal acquaintances dealing with sudden illness to the news of what all has transpired in Orlando, it seems every day brings about a different reason to mourn. Sometimes, I don’t even want to check my phone alerts or news channels/sites due to so much tragedy going on within our communities, our nation, and the world.  I had this quote from Dennis Garvin on my mind today,  “Temptation is not his (Satan’s) strongest weapon. Despair is.”

Do you want to know what other words rang out in my mind today?

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. Psalm 23 (NIV)
Even when it seems the world is collapsing around us, the comforting Word always seems to bring me right back to this place of grace; this wonderfully rich place where hope sustains and fulfills.  Friends, let the Word speak to you.  Embrace it.  Carry it throughout these trying days, and rest comfortably in this place of grace.

 

Ten Ways to Prepare to be a New Foster Parent (Adoption.com article)

I recently wrote for Adoption.com regarding ten ways to prepare to be a new foster parent.  There is so much that new foster parents have to learn, and in many cases, they just won’t know what is valuable information until their first foster child moves in.

This list is short, but hopefully, it will help you if you are preparing to be a new foster parent!

Click here to read the article:  Ten Ways to Prepare to be a New Foster Parent

Blessings,

Caroline

Don’t Lose Sight of Your Vision

Keep Calm

These past few weeks have been somewhat of a blur for me.  I went on a min-vacation with some friends, our school year has ended, and our summer schedule has begun.  In many ways, I’ve felt a little “blah” about most things.

Recognizing these feelings has caused me to do some introspection about my life. I’ve thought about ending this blog, disengaging from social media, and giving up on personal goals.  I’ve wondered where God is, and why in the world do I feel like He has not been listening to me, or perhaps, why I have not been listening to Him.  Oh, my.  We are vulnerable, aren’t we?

At a staff chapel this past week (yes, we have chapel at my job!), the Pastor spoke about having a vision for our lives, and  immediately, this caused my heart to stir.  He reminded us of the importance of hanging on to our visions, praying over them, giving them to God, and realizing that the Enemy wants to destroy our vision.  He also talked about spiritual warfare when it comes to our feelings of giving up what we feel God has laid on our hearts to complete in life.

Every time the Enemy is mentioned, I immediately go back to what I felt growing up knowing I would not have biological children, wondering about motherhood, and tasting the bitterness of confusion and despair.  It seems like a lifetime ago, but in reality, these feelings and thoughts were an ever-present part of most of my life.  I never believed I would ever tell anyone my inner thoughts about life, especially barrenness.  I’m not one to over-spiritualize everything, but man, I’m so glad that I happened to be in the office the day this Pastor came to share and encourage us.  It was one of those moments when you feel like the message was meant just for you.

I needed the reminder that we are engaged in a war.  This war is not a physical one.  It is a spiritual one.  There is an ever-present need for continual prayer for our children, our spouses (if married), our communities, our nations, our neighbors who are considered the outcasts of society,and for ourselves.

Over the past few weeks, I have not felt the need to write, and in some ways, lost the desire.  I’ve wondered if I’m done speaking my history of barrenness to the world, and if it is time to close this chapter of my life.  However, the reality is that in the end it does not matter the size of an audience, nor the popularity, likes, followers, and shares that  we have.  What matters is that we wrap our lives with authenticity, humility, and the tenacity to focus with the full measure of what it is to be a believer.  I’ve also been reminded that my children deserve for me to be faithful and fully present.

The Enemy tried with great effort to make me feel as though the Lord had forgotten about me, and that He was no longer listening to my prayers.  However, my heart continually submerges into the ocean of Grace, and I know that I am not a forsaken or jilted child.

And, neither are you.

Friends, if you have lost sight of your personal dreams, feel as if the Lord has forsaken you, have hit a wall with your creative pursuits, or if you are wallowing in despair, hang on to the Weaver of dreams.

Don’t give up.

Don’t lose heart.

Your story does matter.  Don’t stop telling it.  Don’t believe for one second that your life is not a testimony.  Share your dreams, your wonderful creativity, your eye for fantastic images, and your brilliance with words.  Don’t lose sight of your vision.

What’s God going to say to my questions? I’m braced for the worst.
    I’ll climb to the lookout tower and scan the horizon.
I’ll wait to see what God says,
    how he’ll answer my complaint.

And then God answered: “Write this.
    Write what you see.
Write it out in big block letters
    so that it can be read on the run.
This vision-message is a witness
    pointing to what’s coming.
It aches for the coming—it can hardly wait!
    And it doesn’t lie.
If it seems slow in coming, wait.
    It’s on its way. It will come right on time.”

Habakkuk 2:1-2

 

 

 

There’s Something About Grief

Today snuck up on me.  Or, maybe I should say that yesterday snuck up on me.  Yesterday, April 6th, was the birthday of my cousin Kelly who passed away nearly twenty years ago at the age of twenty-three.  To be honest, I’ve been a crazy person this week.  With activities for the kiddos, work stuff, and the regular rigmarole of life, I only thought of it being Kelly’s birthday a few times.  Until today.

There’s something about grief that doesn’t seem to go away.

It sneaks up on you, catches you by surprise, and for a moment, you are back in the world of reliving what life would have or could have been like if one of your favorite persons was still walking on Earth.

Grief caught up to me today.  In the car.  Driving on a busy road. Tears streaming down my face.  Wishing she was here so that we could scavenge the ground of parenting together.  I found myself longing to see her smile, hear her laughter, and giggle at the things that the two of us found so amusing.

Kelly would be forty-three-years-old this year.  Who knows what her life would be like, but I’d like to think that it would be one full of children (she loved them, so).  She would probably have a gaggle of kittens and pups that she rescued.  Her yard would be covered in tulips (her favorite flower).  I’m sure she would still enjoy a big ‘ole iced tea and the Sunday newspaper. In my mind, she’s still twenty-three, wearing baby doll dresses, hitting the flea markets, rooting for the underdog, loving tulips, and struggling with the issues she faced.

There’s something about grief that keeps us locked in time.

Shortly after she passed, I had a dream.  The two of us were driving, windows down, music blaring, huge smiles, and no words.  It was our “Thelma and Louise” moment.  Kelly, dressed in all white, the sun kissing her face, her eyes sparkling with light, and the wind whipping through her hair, looked at me, looked towards the sun, and smiled a smile that kissed her cheekbones.

It may sound odd, but I’ve prayed about dreaming of her again.  I’ve longed to see her alive in my dreams, to converse with her, to share laughter, and to just be us.  But…these dreams have not come…not since 1996.

Forty-three years ago, my cousin, one of my first friends, and my best friend was born into the world.  Twenty years ago, she left.  My last visual of her was in the dream, smiling, laughing, happy, and free.

There’s something about grief.  There’s also something about life.  Each time I see a tulip, I think of her.  I think of life, and how precious it is.

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Finally! (little meme about a big announcement)

 

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Our youngest child has finally decided that he is done with diapers, and moving onto bigger things…like pull-ups and going potty in the Pirate Potty Seat!  I had to announce this.  No more diapers for this Mama to change!

For all of the Mama’s out there still changing diapers and/or starting the process of potty-training, I salute you.  Hang in there.  Our little guy will be four in July.  FOUR IN JULY…and just started potty-training.  With Kindergarten in the not-too-distant future, I was starting to get a little anxious.

My “babies” are all growing up.  It is so incredible and challenging to watch children bloom into themselves.  What an honor and a reminder that parenting needs to be intentional, full of determination, and saturated with humor.  ‘Tis the reason for this meme…

We.Are.Straight.Outta.Diapers.  

Yay!

 

 

Family Whose Video Went Viral Shares Their Story {Adoption.com Article}

Have you seen it?  There’s a video of a couple meeting their adoptive newborn son for the first time floating around on Facebook, and boy, it is quite moving.  After watching it, I reached out to the adoptive agency the family worked with, and asked if I could contact them for an interview for an article on Adoption.com.

The family agreed, and the link below is for the article.  I absolutely loved hearing the backstory to the emotional and loving video.  It confirmed to me what I have always known.  Behind every story of adoption, there is loss, fortitude, hope, and love.  

Take just a moment to read it:

Family Whose Placement Video Went Viral Shares Their Story

Blessings,

Caroline

This is how I remember Childhood {illness doesn’t do that}

The breeze, the sun, the smell, and the blanket.  The blue skies on top of me, and the green grass below.  This is how I remember childhood…laying down on a blanket surrounded by the outside and looking up in the skies.  The warm sun kissed my face, and the breeze wrapped itself around my skin.  My eyes full of wonder as I imagined dragons, birds, and all sorts of things formed by the billowing, fluffy clouds that captured my sight.

Mom’s baked goods coming fresh out of the oven. Sweet morsels filled with sugar, and love.  This is how I remember childhood…knowing that I was deeply loved, and that Mom could whip up just about anything out of nothing, but it all tasted so good.

Dancing, the smell of the studio, tights and leotards, blisters on my feet, and the laughter of my dancing friends.  This is how I remember childhood…sweet memories of performing,  and dance teachers applauding and critiquing.  Dancing filled my head with dreams, and my soul with passion.

The records, the station wagon, Friday nights at the skating rink, and racing Big Wheels up and down the street.  Neighborhood streets with children playing kickball, the sound of crickets, and coming inside when the sun kissed the Earth goodnight.  This is how I remember childhood…carefree, adventurous, independent, and fun.

Sickness, needles, doctors, machines bleeping, white sheets, blood, in and out of consciousness, surgery, more surgery, bad news, terrible news…this is also how I remember childhood.  Strength, prayer, the power to overcome, the persistence of parents, and the love that enveloped my life before illness took hold, and after, also depict the script of my life.

When serious illness strikes a child down, it sure does its best to erase the goodness that came before.  It doesn’t, though.  All of the cherished times become just that…more cherished, sweeter, and fondly remembered.

In my life, when I think about my childhood, my mind does not automatically go back to the hospital and illness.  No.  It goes back to the warm breeze, the sun, Mom’s goodies, the dance studio, the rink, and the streets filled with children and crickets.  This is how I remember childhood.

I suspect, or at least I hope, that the same is for anyone who has experienced a traumatic illness in childhood.  Illness cannot capture all that came before.  It does not do that.

Remember that.  

Remember the good, the great, and the laughter.  Remember friendships, family, and fun.

Remember that illness does not dictate who you truly are.

Remember, illness doesn’t do that.