Stuck in the Middle

vinyl-decal-sticker-8951It was December of 1987 when I received my keys to so-called freedom by turning 16-years-old, and getting my driver’s license.  I drove through the quiet streets of my neighborhood before coming up to a stop sign. I stared at the traffic going back and forth in front of me.  I remember staying there for quite some time in fear of pulling out onto the busy street.  My mind was racing with thoughts like, “What if I hit a car?”, “What if a car hits me?”, and “I can’t do this. I’m too scared.”

I got up the courage, checked for traffic, and then hit the gas pedal.  I made it safely into the center turn lane and let out a big sigh of relief.  There I was, a new driver, sitting in the center lane on one of the busiest streets in my town.  I knew I had to make a decision.  I put my blinker on and waited….and waited….and…..

In that moment, panic came over me.  I was stuck in the middle lane.  I was scared to pull out into traffic to join in the line of cars, but I knew I could not go back the way I came.  The only way out of this situation was to either take my keys out of the ignition, and walk away, or take a deep breath, hit the gas pedal, and go.

Both options had good things about them.  Taking the keys out and walking away would have been a little easier on my nerves.  After all, I only lived a few blocks away, and could have walked home so that my parents could go back with me to get the car.  I would have not had to face this big challenge either.  The other option of hitting the gas pedal and pulling into what I perceived as a dangerous, yet exciting adventure appealed to me, if only I could build up the courage to do so.

After sitting in the center turn lane for what felt like a very long time, I sat straight up, grasped the steering wheel, checked for traffic, looked to the side, and hit the gas pedal.  I made it into the lane of traffic just fine.  Excitement came over me once I knew I had successfully overcome the fear.  I spent the rest of the night driving around and listening to music.  My new adventure of freedom as a teenager had just begun.

I have thought of this experience many times throughout the years.  Often, I have felt stuck in the middle of a difficult decision without knowing which way to go.  On one hand, turning back and continuing with the same direction feels comforting.  On the other hand, taking a leap of faith and beginning a new journey is quite exciting, and could lead to multiple open doors and a growing sense of His presence.

Are you stuck in the middle of some life decisions right now?  What would you accomplish if you were fearless?

Sometimes in life, you just need to get the courage up, hit the gas pedal, and go!  Regardless of what you decide to do, make sure to listen to the Lord’s leading.  He will not lead you into on-coming traffic that is harmful.  It may feel uncomfortable at times, but the same God who formed you in your mother’s womb is the same One who will see you safely to the other side of the road.

Blessings to you on new adventures in life!

One Year Ago

bridge-photo-2.jpgOne year ago, I pushed the publish button and my very first blog post went off into the world.  One year ago, I was up until 3:00 a.m. fretting over what I had just done.  One year ago, I started this little adventure called blogging.

Just about a year before starting this blog, I shared my testimony at a conference on infertility.  Afterward, women and men were coming up to me thanking me, and letting me know that my story touched them.  On the drive home, I was filled with the kind of elation that only comes from the joy of knowing the Lord’s calling and presence.  The peace of this experience, despite my nerves, and the realization that I could use my story not only to comfort others, but to shed His light into the darkness of infertility, left me nearly speechless and in awe of a mighty God’s penmanship of our lives.  I knew that I was not meant to keep my testimony to myself anymore.

For about a month or two before starting this blog, I had this nagging feeling that would not go away.  I felt led to start a blog, but was wrought with the worry of not having anything to say.  My fear was that once I shared my personal story of infertility, I would not be able to write about anything else.  I have learned through the year to not force topics just because I need to fill the space.  I have learned to listen and look for those moments that are filled with nuggets of wisdom, joy, sadness, and clarity.

From behind the computer screen, we all get peaks into the lives of others.  We get to visit other countries, share in special moments, revel in celebrations, deliberate in political issues, and shed tears; all of which reminds us of our humanity.  Sharing in the human experience reveals that we are all basically the same. We want freedom, love, companionship, health, family, and to attain our dreams.  We want to be comforted through our pain, and to shout with glee in our successes.  People do care, people are interested in each other, and life stories can be used in a way to build someone else up.

Since I started this blog a year ago, I have also welcomed a third child into our home.  Through heartbreak and tough decisions, I became a mother to a baby whose mother I carried around and watched grow up through the years.  At times I am completely overwhelmed by the Lord and His provision in my life, and yet, I know His heart must break for the mothers of the children I so love.

My story continues to unfold as the years go by, and with age, it seems that I am always being refined and renewed.  I really can’t complain at all about the life the Lord has given me.  I’ve been a daughter, sister, friend, aunt, granddaughter, wife, and mother.  I’ve felt the wrath of a devastating illness.  I’ve had to regain my strength physically and emotionally step-by-step.  I’ve had to let go of what would have been.  I’ve embraced what has been, and choose to embrace what will be.

I think I’m more in love with writing than I’ve ever been.  I do not want to write, I need to write.  That is one of the blessings that has come out of this blog.  I have learned to worry less about who reads it, and instead, focus on writing life experiences that will spread a little hope, give encouragement, embrace humility, and speak of grace.  If only one person reads my blog, but that one person is comforted, then that is all that matters.

Thank you for reading my blog.  Thank you for sharing your wisdom, and your encouragement.  Thank you for getting to know me a little through my words.

In case you missed them. I’ve linked my first few posts written one year ago:

Hello World!

I thought of you today birth mother

Mother’s Resilience

Glass Door

The Wonder of You

 Here’s to another year of discovering new people, places, and purpose!  I woke up with this Scripture on my heart today:

“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” – Joshua 1:9

God bless you!

Rest in a Restless World

I’m tired.  I’m tired of pretending that I’m not tired.  I’m tired of getting up each day and going to a job that I know exists because people abuse and neglect their children.  I’m tired of worrying about whether or not there will be enough families out there who want to take in kids who have suffered great trauma.

I’m weary.  I’m weary from trying to shield my children from the news of the day.  I’m weary from the knowledge that humans willfully damage each other, kill each other, and downplay the importance of one another.  I’m weary from the frustration that Christians often worry more about politics than people, or at least, give that impression.

I know that part of my weariness comes from the ups and downs of the human experience.  People are killing each other for their ideologies, perversions, or greed.  Children are left abandoned on the streets to suffer at the hands of evil.  Fathers are turning away from their families to seek what they perceive as greater things.  Mothers are choosing wickedness over their own worth.  People are forsaking compassion for their passions.

Weariness has been on my mind all week, and yet, I fully recognize how lucky I really have it.  I’m not a single mom working three jobs to keep food on the table.  I’m not a small child living off of scraps in a third world country.  I’m not homeless.  I’m not sick.  I’m not hungry.  I am loved.

While meditating on these things, I looked up Scripture that specifically address weariness and rest.  I know there are many more, but here are just a few that I’d like to share.

Exodus 33:14 – 

And He said, “My presence shall go with you, and I will give you rest.”

Matthew 11:28-30 – 

“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart; and you shall find rest for your souls.  For My yoke is easy, and My load is light.”

Psalm 62:1-2-

“My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.”

Psalm 62:5-

“Yes, my soul, find rest in God: my hope comes from him.”

John 14:27- 

“Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives, do I give to you.  Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful.”

Psalm 37:7-

Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him; do not fret when men succeed in their ways, when they carry out their wicked schemes.

In my opinion, the last verse I am sharing is the one that turns that fading flicker in my heart into a flame.  It is the one that renews my hope for things to come, and strengthens my resolve to continue yearning for a world where compassion leads.  It causes me to strive to live a life that continues to breathe love.  It especially reminds me that in this world of chaos and confusion, the only true rest and peace in this restless world is found in the glory of the Lord.

John 16:33-

“These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.”

Thank you Father for the Blessed Assurance of You.

The Lamp and the Light

Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path.  Psalm 119:105
Your word is a lamp for my feet, a light on my path. Psalm 119:105

I’m exhausted from the day.  It is not that I’m physically exhausted, but emotionally exhausted.  Our hearing was heard today to obtain custody of the precious little one who has come to live with us.  I fret over his future, and yet, I love his birth mother as she too is a child I once carried around as an infant.  My husband and I petitioned for guardianship of the baby because we love him and we love his birth mother, his grandmother, and his great-grandparents.  We are all family, and family matters.

I’m exhausted from the day.  I had to be on the witness stand to testify as to why I would be a good home for him.  I had to prove myself, my experience, my relationships, and my stability.  This is not the first time I’ve had to do this.  Being a former foster parent felt like a constant attempt to prove myself as being worthy of being a parent.  I have not cared for a single child that has come to me free of legal strings attached.  I’ve had to testify and show the courts and other powers-that-be that I am capable of providing and loving on a child with-whom I’ve already taken into my home, cared for, and loved on.  I’ve had to prove myself, and yet, the Lord already approves of me.

I’m exhausted from the day, but, I have this sense of inner peace.  I know that my God loves this precious little one more than I can ever imagine.  He commands this child’s destiny.  He has written his past, his present, and his future.  He sings over this baby, and He rejoices over his growth like a proud daddy.  The Lord, and His word are the lamp upon his feet, and the light upon his path.  Truthfully, He is the lamp upon all of our feet, and the light upon our paths.

I’m exhausted from the day, but also at peace knowing that the Lord would not set me and my family upon this path if any of this didn’t matter to Him.  I sat in the court room today at the table with sweaty palms, quick breaths, and a rolling stomach.  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and welcomed the Lord into the courtroom.  I said softly to myself, “Lord, be with me.”  Although nervous and uncertain what the Judge would think, I felt great strength knowing that God was with me.

I’m exhausted from the day, but not worn out.  I know this fight, this passion to protect, and this path has been lit by the light of the Lord, and the choice to love the way He wants us to.  I know that He is the lamp upon which my feet walk, and that each step forward may feel like it is in darkness, but not for long.  I know that He will light the way.

Custody was granted for us today.  This little babe that we love is with us for now at least.  Custody may be temporary, and I may not know what the future holds for him or for his place in our family, but I know who holds his future.  I know to trust the Lamp that will guide the child’s feet, and the Light that will brighten his path.

I know in the depths of my being that the Lord loves this precious baby more than I could ever imagine or fathom…now that is something that refreshes my soul.

Dear Infertility (Part 2),

Dear infertility,

It’s been a while since we’ve spoken.  Funny how I carried you around for so many years, and now I don’t think of you on a day-to-day basis like I used to.  I swore I would never forget you, be able to let go of you, or even get over you, but, look at me now. You do not consume me anymore.

Dear infertility – You made me feel as though I was being punished.  If children are a reward from the Lord, then I must have done something pretty awful not to be rewarded with children…right?  You made me feel this way.  You spoke these lies to me.  You made me feel as though I was less important to the Creator of my beginning and Script-Writer of my future.

You made me think that I would never experience the same type of happiness that those around me were experiencing.  You forced me to wallow in my own despair, and yet, you never consoled me.  You never wiped my tears.  You never told me anything hopeful.  Instead, you shouted at me.  You screamed pain to me.  You never promised me a happy ending.

Dear infertility – you forsake me.  You made me feel like a victim, and at times, you made me feel as though I deserved what happened to me in my youth.  I’m here to tell you, I didn’t deserve it.  I was never a victim, and never will be.  The Lord was not punishing me.  He was not withholding His blessings of children.  He did not forget my name.  I was never less important to Him, or to the world He created, even though you made me feel that way.

Dear infertility – my Creator, my Comforter, my Healer, and my Hope remembers me.  He remembers the tears I cried because of you.  Not only does He remember them, He carries them.  He does not leave me feeling like a victim as you did.  He did not punish me.  What happened to me was an accident, a life-changing mistake that led to a tragic illness that even He mourned over.

He heard the deepest cry from the most secret place of my heart, and He listened. He did not ignore me like you did.  He answered me with the opening of doors, the closing of others, and the humbling moments that led me to being a parent.  He rewarded me with the gift of children.  He charged me with the care of some very special little ones that mean more to Him that I can ever imagine.  You, however, would have never promised me this.  You never would have told me to continue hoping for the fulfillment of my heart.

Dear infertility – I barely remember you, even though I will never forget you.  I will never forget the way you made me feel, the isolation you brought to my life, and the agony of not knowing if my prayers would be answered.  I will never forget being told that you would always be with me.  I was a child myself, and yet, I was forced to learn about you.  You stuck to me like glue.  I didn’t want you.  I didn’t need you, and I certainly didn’t understand you.

Dear infertility – remember me?  I am not the same person I used to be.  I am not that sickly girl, confused teen, and anguished woman I used to be.  I no longer doubt how incredible the Lord is, or even who He is.  I no longer feel like I am on the outside looking in on a life that would never be fully lived.  I am whole.  I am complete.  I am fulfilled.  I am living a life fully lived.  I am certainly not what you want me to be.

You even tried to damage those who loved me.  My parents and family members grieved over what you did to me.  My grandparents went to their grave never knowing that you would not dictate my future.  My parents will not forget what you did, but they too are busy with the joy of grandchildren to think about you anymore.

I suppose you will always be with me, although, I don’t listen to you anymore.  The truth is, I will never listen to you again.  I am too busy listening to the laughter of my children, and the love of my Lord.  I am too busy getting up in the middle of the night changing diapers, fixing school lunches, planning parties, and living a life full of the reward of children.

Dear infertility, I thought of you today while I was holding a little one and praising my Lord.  I thought of how you must feel now that I have moved on from you.  Can I ask you one thing?  Can I ask you to only remind me of you when I start to take my life for granted?  It is not that I don’t recall you from time-to-time.  When I scan over the memories of life and what all the Mighty Lord has done, you do enter my mind.

I remember laying in the hospital bed clinging to life and learning about you.  I remember trying to wrap my young mind and heart around you, even though, I had no idea who you were.  I remember being a teenager and feeling like I was so different from the other girls.  I remember crying into my pillow as I watched others being rewarded with children.

Dear infertility – it’s been a while since we’ve spoken.  It’s been a while since your name has crossed my mind.  It surely has been a while since the tears flowing from my eyes were filled with you.  I may still call on you from time-to-time, but for now, I’m going to tuck you back into my heart again.

Goodbye for now, goodbye.

Related articles – the first letter I wrote to infertility:

Dear Infertility

Majesty (my attempt at a poem)

While driving the new little one to the doctor the other day, my mind started to wander a bit about the place I’m at in life.  I’m 41-years-old, and am raising very young children.  I thought about some of my friends my age who are starting to watch their children prepare for high school graduation, or drive a car, or even start their careers, and all I could think of is how my life is about half-way over and I’m just now in the beginning years of raising a family!

The realization that I will be rearing my children well into my mid-to-late 50’s is quite humbling, and a little concerning.  I get told I look young for my age, and most days I can keep up with the kids, but I cannot escape the years that have already been behind me, nor can I escape the years ahead.  I find it easy sometimes to think about what I could be doing in the last half of my life.  Preparing for retirement, traveling, down-sizing to a great little loft downtown, etc…are all things that have crossed my mind.

Just as soon as my mind starts to walk down that path of “what if”, I quickly come back to the reality of what my life is at this moment, and what the Lord has given me.  Below is little poem I jotted down after thinking all of this through.  It was laid on my heart, and although I’m not a poet or even that skilled at writing poetry, it serves the purpose of speaking out loud my contentment with the life I have.

Majesty

I’ll probably never climb a mountain or swim in the deepest sea.

I’ll never build a mansion or have my name lit up on a marquee.

I probably won’t explore a jungle or fly off into the galaxy, but the Lord, my Father, has proven Himself time and again to me.

I may not ever paint a masterpiece or solve a great mystery.

I won’t carry around many riches nor discover what the eye has yet to see.

I won’t be known for perfection and struggle at times with humility, but when I think of my Lord, my Father, how great You are, my heart screams Majesty.

Thinking of all I will not do or things that won’t happen for me, all I have to do is think of You  – Abba Father, Daddy, Lord – and my heart screams Majesty!

“I Can Do It Myself!”

When I was around 3-years-old, my mom recalls that my first day at preschool started with me jerking loose of her hand, boldly stating “I can do it myself!”, walking down the stairs, opening the door, and heading right into the preschool.  I’m sure she stood there for a moment just a little speechless and saddened that her baby didn’t need help moving on to the next little adventure in life.

I am now parenting an extremely stubborn and strong-willed 4-year-old daughter who absolutely feels the need to do all tasks by herself, even the ones that cause her frustration.  As her parent, I look on with impatience as she tries to tie her shoes.  I know the end result will not be what she wants, but nevertheless, she attempts the same thing time and time again.  In the end, she gives up, crying, throwing her hands up, and states “Can you just do it for me?”  Even walking into the dance studio, she looked at me and said, “Okay mommy, you can go in, pay the bill, and then leave.  I don’t want you walking me in.”  Oh my!

Often, I tend to get frustrated with my children’s ever-present and willful streak of independence.  Both of my children are fearless, very social, impulsive, and will walk any boundary line we set with one foot hanging over the edge.  While my husband and I have learned to adjust to parenting two children who are boundary pushers, we have also learned that life with strong-willed children can be very exciting.

There are very few dull moments in our lives.  Our children are not really shy about trying anything, and can usually create a buzz of energy just about anywhere they go.  Sometimes, though, we worry about just how far our children will push boundaries throughout their lives.  We want them to make choices that are safe and healthy, and yet, we do not want to break their spirits.  We also know that life lessons are mostly made by mistakes, “do-overs” can be quite humbling, and natural consequences often teach more than any of the words we can use.

Thinking about the challenges we face as parents causes me to wonder how the Lord must feel when we cross the boundaries He so desires us to stay clear of.  He too watches as we push to try to do everything ourselves, live with one foot hanging over the edge, and attempt to do the same thing OUR way even though we usually end in failure, frustration, and heart-break.  While I have thrown my hands up in moments of parenting frustration thinking, “Why are they doing this?!?!”, He has thought the same thing about me.

Our ways of telling the Lord, “I can do it myself” are ones that potentially could be quite destructive.  I think of thoughts and words that have been whispered off the lips of people such as, “I can quit drugs anytime I want”, or “I know how to fix this marriage”,  or “I’ll let go of that issue when I’m ready”, or “I doubt my future will be worth anything”.  For me, it was thoughts like “God really must never want me to be a parent”, and other musings that coursed through my mind.  In other words, I was thinking “Lord, I don’t trust that You have my barrenness in Your hands.”

I am so thankful that the Lord allows natural consequences, do-overs, and mistakes to mold us.  His words teach us how to live, but more importantly, how to love.  I am also grateful that He continuously loves His stubborn children despite our attempts to turn away and not listen.

Mostly though, I remember that when He threw His hands up in the air because of us, they were nailed to a tree.  This act was not done out of frustration, but of intense love.  My salvation is not something I can do myself.

 Then said Jesus, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” And they parted his clothing, and cast lots.  –Luke 23:34 

Each Time I Speak

Today I had the privilege of speaking to a class of social work students at a Christian university about foster parenting, adoption, and infertility.  I always enjoy these opportunities to share of the great calling that is foster parenting, and to give a glimpse of my own personal testimony.  It seems each time I speak, I walk away learning a bit more about myself, and about the Lord.

It was a small class, and I really do not know what each of them want to do with their education or who their target population of clients will be.  I don’t know what any of their own life stories involve, but I was thankful to see a group of young persons seeking to learn more about society and the social issues that we face.  I also recognize that they are going to learn more once they actually graduate and dive into the field, than myself, or any professor could ever teach them.

With that being said, I do believe in the power of story-telling, and not just fictional stories.  Human stories are powerful and often help the listener navigate their worlds vicariously through the stories of someone else.  Today, after speaking about the basic facts of foster parenting, and sharing some examples of both heart-break and joy, I was asked to share my personal journey.

I’ve been a guest speaker several times and have told my story of infertility and adoption multiple times.  Each time I start though, I struggle just a bit with how to begin it.  Often, I pause, take a deep breath, then start something like this….

I need to start from the beginning in order for you to understand the full story…

I begin the tale of my journey by explaining that my medical problems started to happen at the age of two years, but that no one ever suspected what would happen at the age of eleven.  I tell of being in the hospital for nearly a week in the dying process before the life-saving decision was made to perform exploratory surgery.  I talk about my hysterectomy, and at times, I catch myself off-guard about how open I am now in talking about it.

After I “break the ice” a bit with my medical history  I meander my way through the steps taken to become licensed as a foster parent up until the moment I first laid eyes on the precious baby we were charged with taking care of.  I tell of the lows (and there were many), the highs, the revelations, the humbling moments, and ultimately, the gift of adoption.  I speak of the relationship built with my son’s birth mother, and the moments where all I could do was kneel in prayer for the child I deeply loved.

I go on to talk about how our son declared we would get a baby sister about 10 days or so before we even became aware of her.  I talk about how her “case” was vastly different from my son’s, and how our children are strong-willed, ornery, and deeply loved.  The Lord’s declaration to me that my journey was never really about me in the first place is something I always share.  It is the most important piece of my story, and something that will always stand out to me as being one of the most incredible gifts through all of this.

On the drive home following my speaking engagement, I was at a place of peace and contentment with life.  I feel this way every time I am able to share my story.  I see how the Lord put all the refining and deeply painful moments together with those “mountain-top” moments in life.  I also think about the adolescent girl and young adult that I once was who barely whispered a word about what happened.  I remember that my hysterectomy was something I hid from others, was deeply ashamed of, and that caused great internal turmoil in my life.  I recall the images of myself avoiding baby departments, struggling through baby showers, and coiling up in a fetal position while weeping my way through the pain of infertility.

I am so thankful for opportunities to share my story with others.  I know others learn from my professional and personal experience.  I believe that a small dose of understanding is learned, and that some may walk away feeling moved to get involved in foster care.  I also feel that I am able to speak for those still struggling through infertility, and to share that there is always hope and goodness that happens in life even when that doesn’t seem possible.

For me though, each time I speak it out loud, I am reaffirmed of His presence throughout my life, His marking of the path that led me to my children, and His ability now to use me in ways I never imagined.

Thank you, Lord, for bringing me to a place where my story reflects Your glory.  I feel You around me Father.  I feel You working on me, and sculpting my life in ways that remind me of who You are.  I also know that You are not through with me yet, and for that, I am excited to see what You have in store.

 

I’ll Play My Drum for You

photo (42)One of my favorite Christmas songs is “The Little Drummer Boy”.  There is something quite simplistic, yet deeply thoughtful (in my opinion) about this tune.  The lyrics tell the story of a boy whose only gift for the newborn King is the rhythmic tapping of his drum.

I remember watching the animated movie when I was younger.  The description of the movie is, “An orphan drummer boy who hated humanity finds his life changed forever when he meets three wise men on route to Bethlehem.” (www.imdb.com)  I would argue that his life changed more when he met the newborn King.  Much like those of us who claim Christ as our Savior, the people along the way certainly influenced our journey, but ultimately, meeting the Lord and reveling in His glory is what changed our lives.

The thought that our Savior was born in a lowly manger surrounded by very few people is quite humbling.  His worth values more than any riches.  He could have been born in the most glorious of places, and could have commanded the Earth to move.  And yet, the song of “The Little Drummer Boy” reminds me of the pureness of children and how their gifts, though small and often hand-made, carry far greater value than the store-bought gifts we often receive.  The words also speak of meeting the Lord where we are at; poor, with not much to offer.

I believe He doesn’t expect us to put out our finest wares for Him.  I believe He wants our gifts to be used and given in humility, kindness, and with sincere generosity.  I believe we are to use what we have been given to the best of our ability, and with the heart of a child.  These gifts of our time, service to others, loving acceptance, and consolation of each other are of value that will never fade.

What “drum” will you play to honor Him?  What will the rhythm of your life sound like?  The sounds may fade, and the act may be just one moment in time, but, the impact on others can be eternal.

Yes, Lord, I’ll play my drum for You.

Give You the World – (re-posted with relevance)

The post I wrote earlier titled Yearning for Change was out of anger and anguish over what happened this past weekend in Connecticut.  It was also out of frustration as a professional in the field of social work who knows that those most often affected by cuts in budget are children and families.  After writing it, I was gently reminded that true change really does start at home.  Fathers and Mothers need to love their children.  Grandparents should, if possible, wrap their love around their families and provide support.  Parents should be building their children up, instead of tearing them down.  Parents just need to be parents.

I decided to re-post a piece I wrote for my children back in June.  Children are always on my mind – not just my children, but children of the world.  No child should ever go to bed wondering if he or she matters to this world.  Earlier in the week, I prayed to the Lord and cried out, “What are we doing to Your children, Father?!?”  I realized, though, that He who holds the stars, also holds our children.

This piece I wrote about in the post linked below is not just for my children, but for yours as well.  After this week, my desire penned months ago seems to have even more relevance.  If you wish, click on the link and read it.  Blessings to you and yours!

GIVE YOU THE WORLD