Fellowship in Suffering

“Are you willing for your kids to suffer for my sake?”  That is what God asked of me before adopting our first set of kids.  That was 15 years ago.  I had  5yo and 2yo birth kids and a few foster kids who came and went.  Was I willing?  To allow my kids to suffer?  This was a hard question to answer.  Why would my kids need to suffer?  We were just adopting two sweet girls ages 7years and 6 months.  With many more foster kids to follow.  What possible suffering could they go through?  As I wrestled with this question, I knew there was only one answer.  I knew and loved God with all my heart and trusted Him deeply.  My answer had to be Yes.  Yes.  I will allow suffering into my home.  If that is what God was asking of me, I would surrender.

Oh, dear reader, my eyes are filled with tears, as I write this, over the suffering my kids have had to endure.  Without getting into specifics, we have had personal violations, attempted suicide, depression, psych hospitals, police at our door, false allegations, a stolen car, yelling beyond measure, running away, lying, stealing, hitting, social workers on power trips and more.  And my birth kids (and some adopted kids) have had to suffer. 

Recently, one of my birth kids confided a terrible violation at the age of 6 years old.  What was I thinking?  Why did I somehow think God would protect us all from these terrible atrocities?  Many of which I had no idea were happening under my own roof. Broken children hurting broken children.  I should have known!   Oh, how foolish I feel.  Oh, how I have messed up. Failed.  Isn’t the number one job of a mom to protect?  My heart aches over the pain that has been allowed in my home.  MY HOME!  My place of love and protection has been defiled into a heap of rubble before my eyes. 

But these words of God came flooding back to me like a bitter pill to swallow.  “Are you willing for your kids to suffer for my sake?”  I so much want to blame God for this, but I had answered Yes to His question.  I told Him I was willing. 

Why do we want to spare our kids from suffering?  The obvious answer is that we feel pain when they feel pain.  We want them to live a life of love, peace, college, marriage and of course, grandkids.  But God never (and I mean NEVER) has promised that.  In fact, as I read the Bible, it was considered an honor to suffer for Jesus.  Something noble.  Heroic.  Jesus says it himself that in order to share in His Glory, we must also share in the fellowship of His sufferings.  Fellowship. Of. Sufferings.  Why would I want to do that?  I want the fellowship of a high paying job, comfort and happiness.  Now I would totally get into that kind of fellowship.  But sufferings? 

God is teaching me that basically life sucks here. I’m sure you all figured that out by now, but I am extremely slow and hopelessly optimistic.  I realized that all the things I expected from God were lies. Lie #1…  I expected a little suffering, but not the gut wrenching, deep grieving kind of suffering.  Lie  #2…I believed that everything would work out fine.  And although some of my kids are doing well, there are others who are still terribly broken.  Things often don’t work out fine.  In fact, almost ALL my fears for my kids came true.  Lie #3…I believed that I could be enough for my kids.  I can’t.  I have tried to protect, to make some of my kids love me, to be the mom they need me to be, to fill the void that birth mom and dad left within their souls.  I have come to this conclusion.  Never. Gonna. Happen.

So, now that you are completely depressed and will never adopt a child in your entire life, let me make it worse for you.  I would love to give you a tidy, scriptural, nice and comfortable answer to all this.  But there is none.  Well, that is not entirely true.  Through all this grief and pain I have found one thing that has changed it all.

HOPE.

The truth is that God knew all of this.  God knew what was happening in the darkness.  He knew what was going on in each broken heart.  He knows how to bring something beautiful out of ashes.  He longs to take our pain and make it a gift.  In His mercy, He uses pain to draw us closer to Him.  He doesn’t cause the pain.  He uses it to make us the beautiful people He has created us to be.  Pain equals fellowship.  When we fellowship with him in our sufferings, we are sharing His Glory.  The one thing I am finally getting is that if we stop controlling and fixing and protecting (even from God), then we can fellowship in His Glory.  When we stop striving and fearing and guilting, God gets a chance to get a word in edgewise.  And you might just love what He says to you!  Hope is all we have here on earth.  Hope is the promise of God making all things new.   The promise of Him being with us and giving us joy even when all is falling apart.  It's the hope of just touching the hem of His Glory for one second and realizing how dimly we have really been seeing our lives.

GLORY. 

That’s what I want.  I don’t like the “not understanding what the heck you are doing God” part.  But I will spend eternity with the Lover of my soul.  And I want to see His Glory.  That’s all that matters.  That is all that makes us whole.  Anything else is a loss.  Fellowship with the God of the universe.  That is what I want to strive for.  How about you?  I would love to hear about your story with suffering and how God "fellowshipped" with you.  It would greatly encourage me and others.

Thanks for listening to my rantings.  I really needed to get that out.

 

“ I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things.” Phil 3:8

‘”I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, to attain the resurrection from the dead.” Phil 3:10-11

Love is Blind

Love is blind!

That’s what I thought when my love asked me to be his bride.

Why would a man take a broken woman to call his own?  Physically torn down.  Emotionally broken.  Spiritually young.

I was messed up. Had issues. Lived in shame.

But he saw through all that to what I would become.  Called me his butterfly.  Trusted God to tame me.

I didn’t know how to cook, clean or love a husband.  I was damaged goods.

I burnt dinner, couldn’t clean a bathroom and spent too much money.  He patiently taught, encouraged, prayed.

But then the impossible happened.  The shame-filled caterpillar finally came out of her cocoon a full fledged butterfly.  

She dreamed big dreams and he made them happen.   

Her passion burned and he fueled the fire.  

She took risks and he jumped with her.

He never told her she could not do it. Never said it was Impossible.  He gave her wings to fly and then sat back and watched.  He watched her become brave.  He watched her become free. He watched her soar.

Isn’t that how God works? Sees what we will be, instead of what we have been.  Loves us not as we should be, but as we are.  Gives us wings so we can fly?

I am the woman I am today in a large part because of my man.  He trusted God when others told him to not marry me.  He saw me for who I am.  Now, after 22 years of trudging through issues, loosing kids, gaining kids with trauma, two almost fatal births, failure, success, tears, anger, joy, police, abuse, fostering, adoption and hanging on to the robe strings of God , I say I would do it all again. 

I would say “I do” again. 

Love is blind? I think to a certain extent.  We had no idea what we were in for on our blissful wedding day.  But I say that love is the only way to see.  To see God turn trauma into healing.  Anger into forgiveness.  Failure into redemption. 

Truly, Love’s eyes are wide open.  And they see you for who you are. Where you are.  How you are.

As I turned on my wedding day to look into the starry eyes of my love, I choose now to turn and face the One who can see all of me.  Accept all of me.  Change all of me.

And I am set free to fly higher.

Who are you?

Fearful. Hurt. Disappointed.

That is how I have been feeling the past few weeks.  I am a mother who has kids with brain damage from being infused with drugs and alcohol while in the womb.  This has caused havoc in our home for years.  When we learn new tool, things get better for a while.  But then a new wound will appear in a child and we start all over again.  As they get older, the loss of their birth parents becomes greater as they realize the deep rejection and sadness.  Top that off with a huge dose of brain damage and you have yourself chaos.  Well, the past few weeks the chaos has returned and I found myself defeated, angry and depressed. 

So I do what any survivor would do…put up walls of protection, control and live in fear of the future.  I realized last night that what I am doing is not only unhealthy, but is taking the joy right out of my life.  I have been trying my hardest to be what my kids need me to be. 

Strong.

Kind.  Even when they are yelling and swearing at me.

Forgiving and forgiving and forgiving.

I need to be these so I can show them the love of Jesus.

I have tried and tried to become what they need to be and began to lose sight of who I really am.  Isn’t that the way it always starts…losing vision, not being able to see?

So I sat down and wrote out who I am.  Here is my list….

Kathryn

The Pure One

 The disciple Jesus loves

Good

Weak

Hurt

Disappointed

Guilty

Fearful

Hard

Soft

Pressure on myself

Passionate

Loves deeply

Fails daily

Learning to live grace

Counter of gifts

Freedom fighter

Vision caster

Writer

Lover of the broken

Lover of God

Worshipper

Loved

Hated

Risk taker

Comfort seeker

Broken

Amazed

Grateful

Truth teller

Spirit follower

I realized that I was not being ALL of me.  I was living in fear and guilt and wanting to serve and love my kids so they would heal and so I wouldn’t damage them with my unwillingness to love when they are displaying their anger over their deep loss.  I am denying much of who I am because I need to protect myself.  I need to be strong for them.  I get hurt.  But instead of acknowledging that, I disregard my feelings for the sake of being “Christ” to them.  Sick, I know. This is what happens to a mom who has taken in broken children.  

You begin to cope instead of love.  

You fear, instead of trust.  

You harbor guilt, instead of living grace.  

I was trying so hard to have grace for my kids that I neglected the grace for me. 

I am going to work on living ALL of me.  The good, the bad and the very ugly.  

I am going to receive instead of protect.  

I am going to live joy instead of control. 

I am going to be free to be myself instead of what I think my kids need. 

And most importantly…I am going to accept myself as Kathryn, The disciple who Jesus loves. 

So who are you?  How is your vision?  I challenge you to make a list.  You may be surprised at parts of yourself that you may be missing.  

I pray you will live Grace today.  

Grace for yourself.   

We can only see clearly through the eyes of Grace. 

An Inconvenient God in a Convenient World

I was driving with my kids to take dinner to a friend and we saw a dog up ahead.  It was standing in the middle of the road.  We slowly passed it and its head followed us with a look of terror on its sweet face. It was a big golden dog with a collar.  It seemed to be beckoning us crying, “Help!”, in doggy language.  Let me first tell you that I am NOT a dog person.  I like dogs.  I even have one.  Her name is Mia and she is sweet and small and follows me around the house all day.  I like her.  I would even cry if she died, but I’m not in love with her.  If I’m honest, there are days she is just one more creature that needs my time and care.  OK, now that’s settled, let’s get back to the road.  So, unfortunately, I had all my kids in the car with me.  They love dogs.  They saw the dog and saw the look of terror on its sweet face.  They all yelled in unison…”GO BACK! Get the dog!”  Now I had a choice.  I was already late in getting this dinner to my friend.  I had a to do list with me filled from top to bottom.  What do I do?  I really did not want to stop, but I had been asking God to speak to me when He wanted me to do something.  In my heart, I knew I needed to turn around.  So back I went with cheering kids in tow.  We got out of the car and checked the collar.  Good, it has a phone number.  I didn’t even see that her name was Abby.  Ok, I will just call the owner.  We will be heroes and off to do my list we will go.  So I called and there was no answer.  Now I had another choice.  Leave the dog and continue on planned path or detour and be inconvenienced.  I really wanted to leave her (I’m sorry to all you dog lovers), but we decided to go to some houses and see if we could find the owner.  No one was home.  I felt like we were supposed to take the dog with us to drop off the meal.  I’m sure the owner would call soon.  Because of the long list of to-do’s, after I dropped off the meal, I went by my house to tie her up with some water.  She was a very docile, sweet, loving dog.  I put a leash on her as I took her out of the car.  I was holding the handle of the leash in one hand and the rope part of the leash in the other.  Once she saw my dog in the yard, she became Kujo!  She leaped out at my dog as if she was going to devour her in one bite.  As she raced to eat my dog, the rope in my hand sliced a gash in my finger.  It felt like a burn and a cut all at once.  Luckily I had her on the leash so my Mia was safe.  I bandaged my cut, tied the dog up, gave her some water and left to run my errands.

I came back late afternoon and still no call from the owner.  I called her again with the message machine answering.  I left another message.  It was dinner time and again I called with no one home.  I started getting a little panicky.  Then the sun went down and it grew dark.  Abby began to howl and scratch at my door.  I went out to pet her and play with her, but as soon as I went back inside, she howled some more.  I put her in the garage around 7pm so she wouldn’t bother our neighbors.  She just kept howling!  Why did I pick this stupid dog up?  I felt like I had to have a plan for her to spend the night.  I saw myself not getting any sleep as I went to the garage every hour to keep her quiet.  I envisioned our garage mutilated by this terrified dog.  I predicted the next day I would be cranky and irritable due to lack of sleep.  So I did what we all do when we are desperate….I prayed.  I asked God to please have the owner call me before we went to bed.

Around 8:30pm, I got the call.  It turned out that the owner was in Georgia and the people who were house sitting were frantically searching for the dog.  The house sitters saw that there were messages, but couldn’t retrieve them.  Finally, they got a hold of the owner and she called me.  She said that Abby was scared because of a gunshot and that she was a very nervous dog.  She was so appreciative that we took her dog home. And as it turned out, she lives right around the corner from us.  We found her three miles away from our house.

I was inconvenienced.  I know this was a very small price to pay to help this dog and neighbor.  But I could have been spending my time doing what I wanted to do.  How many times do I wake up and have my “quiet time’ with God.  Worshipping, praying and telling Him how much I love Him and then going on my merry way to do “my day.”  My time is valuable.  Why would I take the time to pick up a dog when I had more important things to do?  It is because I think my time is mine.  That what God wants is secondary to my to-do list.  That I will choose how and when to follow God.  If I do my ministry on Wednesday nights, I feel good that I did what God would have me do.  But what about the homeless person on the corner Thursday morning?  What about the woman in front of you in line at the grocery store on Saturday?  What about that dog in the road?  That is too inconvenient.  I don’t have the time. I’m late. I don’t want to see.

Isn’t it the truth that ALL time belongs to God?  That every minute is His to give?  Then why do I think that I can serve God when it’s convenient?  Is it because my life is convenient?  I can get a coffee at the drive- thru and order my groceries on line and buy the latest book on Amazon.  Convenient.  I will schedule you in for dinner when it’s convenient.  I will bake cookies with you when it’s convenient.  I have found that God is not interested in our convenient lives.  He is more interested in the Kingdom Life.  He wants to be able to minister to that drug attic.  He wants to heal that blind man.  He is desperate to talk to that single mom over there.  And who will He use?

You.

Me.

The church. 

How can He use us when we are blinded by the convenient life?  When we are deaf to the voice of God?  When we want it our way?  God is not looking for more ministry.  He is looking for your time.  All 24/7 of it.  To be able to say go, and we will go.  To love that person in front of you at His command. 

To slow.

To stop.

To see!

I want to live this way.  But to be honest, I’m scared.  It is so much safer to read my Bible each morning and serve in my ministry than to give God my every minute of the day.  What if He asks me to go to Africa? What if he tells me to be late for a meeting so that I can help an old woman put groceries in her car?  What if He wants me to hear my child’s heart and I have dinner to make?  I hate to admit it, but dinner CAN’T wait.  The truth is…the child can’t wait.  When will the moment come when I can see?  Which moment will I choose to hear? When will I believe each moment is God’s and I live because He has gifted that moment to me? Jesus was inconvenienced constantly.  He was always on a journey somewhere when someone would need healing or a woman would touch him and power would leave Him. Or he would need to detour to raise the dead (and I thought a dog in the road was bad). He was always open to God because Jesus was doing the Father's business.  He only did what the Father told him to do. I’m wondering if the full life, the adventurous life is really listening to the voice of God and then doing it.  If I love and trust God, then I can believe that he will not give me more than I can handle.  That He will slowly teach me to hear Him and as I obey, He will trust me with more.  The fact is that God did answer my prayer that the owner would call and He did not give me more than I could handle.  When I was inconvenienced, my mind went directly to how this was going to impact me not how God wanted to use this.  Following God is a risk.  I could fail.  But I’ve gotta try. I want to love God better.  I want the full life!  I have nothing to lose and a Kingdom to gain.  Are you with me?  If you are lucky like me, God might just start you off with a dog in the road!

My Story Part 9

When we were asked to take in a 16yo foster daughter and her 2yo son, we were skeptical.   My son was 3yo and my daughter a baby.  What did I know about teenage moms?  We decided to have her over to check her out.  We instantly liked her and her son.  But could we handle it?  We took her on a tour of our home and ended up in the back yard.  My husband had a vegetable garden in the yard and had carefully placed the envelopes of each vegetable on a stick and stuck them in the ground ( I know…stay with me).  These envelopes were tattered and torn from the rain and wind.  I looked at one while giving our tour and the envelope looked like Elvis (I told you…stay with me!!).  A minute later, this young woman, Sarah, said, “Hey, that looks like Elvis.” And she was pointing to the garden envelope.  I knew right then and there that God was calling us to take these kids into our home.  I know it sounds crazy! In fact, I’m laughing out loud right now as I write.  But we were young in our faith and needed a sign.  Who knew God could use Elvis to confirm a prayer?

Sarah was a beautiful, scared, lost 16yo with a 2 yo son.  But we instantly bonded with her.  We had some great times together going to hockey games, out to dinner, movies etc.  It was tricky having her 2yo living with us because I took care of him during the day and she would take over after she got home from school.  When she was mad at me, she would tell her son to not talk to me.  But when she was happy with me, we all got a long great.  When she was about 17yo, she started freaking out.  I think she was scared.  She began to act out against me.  She would smear my food all over my kitchen and would take my car and we couldn’t control her.  The foster agency was a huge help and kept asking us if we wanted her removed.  But I knew God called us to keep them.  God would have to make it clear if she should go.  This trauma went on for months.  And I wasn’t innocent in this either.  I would yell at her and I remember throwing my keys at her.  I was angry and scared and wanted to help her, but couldn’t.  I lost weight  and would spend time at night in my room.  I like to say that Sarah helped me to like beer.  After I put my kids to bed at night, I would get some chips, salsa and beer and lock myself in my room.  I was miserable, but not going to give up.  She began having boyfriends and lying all the time.  We forgave her.  We made contracts.  We set boundaries.  None of it worked and we realized that she had to leave. 

It was devastating.  She was furious that we were “kicking her out with a baby.”  And I felt horrible. I felt like we failed.  I didn’t think we would ever see them again.  But she would keep in touch every now and then.  She ended up in transitional housing and then moved in with her dad.  She began making good choices and got a great job.  We saw her now and then.  She still struggled because she wanted a mom.  She wanted me to be a mom to her.  How could I fill a hole that big?  How could I help her unravel the pain, trauma and abuse she suffered?  There was no end to the depths of her pain.  So I loved her the best I could.  But it wasn’t enough.  I disappointed her many times.  She didn’t just need love.  She needed a pouring out of healing that only God could give.

And you know what? He did!!!!!  I have tears in my eyes as I write this.  Sarah became an amazing, beautiful, loving mother.  God gave her money to put a down payment on a condo.  He gave her a job at a private Christian school where her son could attend.  He gave her a church to call her family.  And the best part for me is that I get to still call her family.  I get to still love her.  God redeemed the pain.  If you met her today all you would see is beauty.  Beauty out of ashes.  Beauty despite what the enemy had planned.  Not just beautiful, but the deep kind of beauty that only comes from suffering and pain and wisdom and healing.  The kind of beauty that will never fade or disappear.

Today, Sarah is married to an amazing Christian man with two more kids.  Her son that lived with us is grown.  She is following the Lord wherever He leads.  She is compassionate, real and seeks God daily. She home schools and serves in her community.  She is the definition of beauty in every way. She is a gift.

So because of Elvis (and God), I got to witness a miracle.

I got to receive the gift. 

I got to be a gift.

I love you Sarah. 

The Guilt Trip

The guilt trip.  Many of us pack our bags, but how many of us ever come back from the trip?  I have lots to be guilty about….the choice to not love the unlovable, the choice to not see the broken from my own womb, the choice to bring words of death instead of life.  I could have, should have seen instead of being blinded by fear.  These were all choices packed tightly in my bag of guilt.  I have carried this heavy load for years. Occasionally taking out the garments of shame, looking at them one by one; hanging them up to the light of my window so that I could see every last detail.  Then when I have glared at each and every piece, I fold them up carefully and tuck them back in my bag.  And I wonder.   Why do I do this?  What causes me to recount the memories of failure?  To be burdened by the weight of my sin?

I carry my bag all the time.  It is so used to being carried that I cannot even feel the weight anymore.  Oh, but the heaviness is there.  It is waiting to shame me and keep me tied to the lie.  And what is the lie?  I stumbled upon it recently.  It is in Galatians 3-5.  It says, “All who rely on observing the law are under a curse.”  A curse?  So when I choose to carry my guilt I am under the law, right?  I am under a curse.  Galatians goes on to say, “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us.”  OK. Here is the good part.  So, little old me is carrying my bag of guilt living under a curse.  But Jesus redeemed me from the curse by becoming a curse for me?  How cool is that?  So I am redeemed.  When I carry the bag, I am choosing the curse.  When I’m unpacking the bag, I am telling God….you are not enough.  Your becoming a curse is not enough for me.  I need to live under the curse because that is what I deserve.  Am I becoming God when I do this?  Am I accepting the curse over accepting Jesus?  Galatians goes on further, “But now that you know God- or rather are known by God- how is it that you are turning back to those miserable and weak principles?  Do you wish to be enslaved by them all over again?”  Uh, NO!  Enslaved? That is pretty powerful.  So let me get this straight….I have been redeemed from the curse, can live in freedom, am an heir of Christ…His daughter and why am I still carrying this bag of curses? 

Well, I put a stop to that right away.  I took my bag, opened it and named every piece before God.  I told him about not seeing, not loving, the pain I have caused, the failure, the fears.  I took each piece and held it into the Light.  And the Light burned these words into each piece….”IT IS FINISHED.”  I don’t know about you, but I am done carrying burdens that have already been paid for.  I am no longer wanting to be God, punishing myself until I’m sick to my stomach.  Galatians 5 says, “It is for freedom that Christ set you free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” 

I choose freedom.  

I tossed the bag.  

There was a price paid for my guilt.  

But I was never intended to pay it.  

IT IS FINISHED.

What about you? Are you carrying a curse? If so, you are missing out on grace.

And it is AMAZING!

One Year in Colorado

It has been exactly one year since we moved and what a year!

Here are my top 10 reasons why we love it here! 

1.  The sky is big here so the beautiful sunsets and sunrises are that much more beautiful.

2.  Every weekend I see hot air balloons and sky divers from my back porch. 

3.  I never knew how much of a country girl I am…the peace, quiet and beauty takes my breath away daily. 4.  I didn’t realize how much our family needed to heal and draw closer together.  This is happening here and it is changing our lives. 

5.  Being out of a place where I had a reputation and was well known has brought me to my knees.  I have realized that I am nothing and anything I am is because of God.  I am so thankful for this gift.

6.Being surrounded by horses, cows, raccoons, fox, skunks, toads, coyotes, snakes and every kind of bird is a constant reminder of God’s creation. 

7. We live in a non- nanny state.  We can talk on our cell phones in the car, we don’t have to wear helmets on motorcycles, we get to have bags when we shop. 

8.There are 12 million people in the Bay Area.  There are 5 million people in all of Colorado.  We are loving all the space to explore, hike and camp. 

9.We are part of a church that supports foster/ adoption and is a powerful presence in Boulder County finding homes for kids in need. 

10.We have loved having visitors.  It is so fun to share our new home and lives with friends from California.  Please visit us!