Cross Culture Mama

I sit here wondering how to begin. Do I go back to the very beginning of this story? Do I give a basic overview? How do you describe the relationship between a child you didn’t bring into this world and tragedy brought to you? How do you tell of the great joy that came out of such sorrow and somehow ended with pain?

My family was blessed with a little boy. My M was sweet. I should say is sweet. I’m just not his mommy anymore. You see, we took him in at a crucial time. His mother was dying, died while in our care. We loved him as our own. The system was broken and let him go back to the abusive situation. I broke as they drove off with my son. Fast forward months later. My son returned. I thought it was for good. But somehow God has planted a seed in my heart. I clearly heard this before he even came back… “You will get M back, find out you are pregnant and after the baby is born you will mourn the loss of him.” I heard it. I hoped it was just fear talking. We got M back. I found out I was pregnant. I had my baby. I didn’t want for him to go… But I knew he needed to. You see, he had 4 siblings he cried for every night. They were all in the same home except for him, and his youngest siblings foster family went to the same church as the rest. He was the only one away. He asked me hard questions to which I would say, “I can’t fix it.” But I knew that when he was 18 that answer wouldn’t cut it. My stomach hurt. It felt queasy. I cried and cried with my newborn in my arms knowing I had to do what was best for my boy. I wanted to be his forever mommy but I wanted what was best for him even more.

I felt guilty… but I knew I had to do something. I prayed specific prayers. Laid so many fleeces before God. Every prayer answered. Everything confirmed. He went for a visit. He came back saying he didn’t live with me anymore.

His heart had moved on. But mine hadn’t.

He transitioned in a rush. There was no real goodbye. I felt numb. My emotions got swept under the rug. But recently a lot of anger has been showing its ugly face… I didn’t understand. I didn’t deal with the pain. I didn’t realize how much I had let the lies of failing him and possibly ruining everything take over me. I know I heard God. I know He worked out everything so specifically so I would know it was Him. But the shame followed me. Until I spoke to someone about it… the first thing she said was, “But sweetheart, that’s foster care. You did the hard thing and I’m so proud of you.” Then she prayed. Prayed against the lies I had been holding onto. The guilt, regret and shame. Since then they’ve been gone. The sadness of not being his forever mommy still comes… but I am thankful that I had the honor of being one of his mommy’s. I’m thankful I got to teach him English, manners, how to pray, I’m thankful he asked me to help him accept Jesus into his heart, I’m thankful I got to teach him how to read. I’m thankful for the opportunity to love him. A song from the musical wicked comes to mind,

“Who can say that I’ve been changed for the better…because I knew you I have been changed for good.”

I always asked God to give me the opportunity to save a child. I prayed that as a child. Now looking back… I see it. The hours I spent combing lice and ticks from his hair, holding him and crying with him as he grieved the loss of his mommy, soothing him from nightmares, hard conversations about why his dad was the way he was and all about heaven.

God answered my hearts desire. I didn’t know my heart would break in the process.

“Heal my heart and make it clean

Open up my eyes to the things unseen

Show me how to love like you have loved me.

Break my heart for what breaks yours

Everything I am for your kingdoms cause”

Everything I am. I didn’t get to be his forever mommy. But I loved him hard while I had him. I still pray for him. If ever a time came and he needed me I would do anything for him. But maybe sometimes it isn’t forever. And that’s ok. My heart is healing. And I’m ready to let God break it again for what breaks his. I have one life. And I want to use it well.

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

James 1:27

There. I said it. I love being the center of my boys world. They light up when they see me. I love hearing things like, “You’re the best mommy I ever had!” or “The best part of my day was playing with you” or “Can I sleep with you all night, mommy?” (The last one sounds cute, but let’s be honest. There may be sleeping going on but I will not be having it with him in the bed!)

Ok. So it had been a long day. This particular day my almost 4 year old son had been very persistently asking me for things. Incessantly asking me to cook things, “help” him, buy him things or DO things for him. Can I be honest? I sighed deeply and asked him, “can you stop asking me for things for one minute?” And he innocently answered, “No.” In his mind why wouldn’t he? I am his world. I do it all for him. I have proven myself time and time again to come through for him (I fail him too, but a child’s gracious love is an amazing thing to behold.)

The thought hit me as I lay in bed that night. It’s exhausting being someone’s world. It got me thinking about my relationship with God. A parent and child relationship should mirror Christ’s love for us. When I bring requests to God I have never heard a thunderous sigh. I have never been told, “Stop asking me for things/help/wisdom! It’s so hard to be your God!” He created me. And yes he is God,

but I can act just like a defiant strong willed child.

Then my mind went back to my own son. It isn’t that I mind doing the things for him. I love it. Making the sandwiches (So. Many. Freaking. Sandwiches. Did I mention he LOVES sandwiches?) I love putting his cute clothes in his dresser. I love packing a snack for him to eat at preschool. I love when he sneaks in bed early in the morning for snuggles and to warm up (Caz you know, in Belize we are freezing when it’s in the 50’s overnight 😂) I love when he asks me to watch him play in the sand. I love it. But sometimes when there are so many “Mom, can You…”‘s I just want some time. I just want to spend time WITH him not DOING for him. I wonder if that’s how God feels. Lately the song from Jesus culture has been coming to mind a lot. In the chaos and distractions. In the fast prayers of , “LORD give me strength and patience to survive these kids!” I hear “Come away with me…come away with me. It’s never too late for you.”

Being someone’s world is exhausting. So so true. I have no idea how someone could parent without the Holy Spirit. Without praying. Without taking parenting cues from their own relationship with God. Because I have all that and still think this is hard. So as exhausting as being their world is, it is also a privilege and an honor, and not one I want to take lightly. So he will continue ask me for everything because I am his everything. And that is ok. But instead of being frustrated maybe I should say “Come away with me. Let’s read some books and just BE.”

It’s been one of those days. And it’s just 8:18am. It’s been one of those weeks actually. Maybe more like a month and a half. I’ve been drowning in mundane and ordinary. I’ve been constantly doing and what I am doing seems unimportant in a lot of ways. It feels repetitive. It feels kind of suffocating. In the last month the number of people in our household went from 5 to 8 and one on the way (not me this time!) There’s been a lot of finding sheets, blankets, clothes that my oldest has outgrown for another, setting aside baby clothes for in a couple months, cooking (so much cooking. Why do we have to eat so many meals?!), unending laundry, listening to my kids and our extras, household renovations (not because we decided to but because situation caused us to have to) and having no sink for over 2 weeks. There’s been a lot.

Often times I feel I’m so busy yet doing nothing. Like I am running myself ragged all day taking care of my own and my extras and then I sit down at the end of the day and have nothing to show. No visible fruits of my labor. And this morning it hit me. Maybe the ordinary and the mundane day to day is the most eternal.

Maybe the things I keep showing up for day in and day out have the most eternal value.

At the end of my day I often see no list perfectly checked off. But you know what I did do this week? I loved my children. The ones I gave birth to and the ones God placed in my life. I listen to people’s stories. I pushed my son on the swing. I cooked for my family and made sure no one was hungry. I cleaned up my son’s cut and gave him a bandaid and magic kisses. I prayed with my son. I’ve breastfed on demand. I sat in the emergency room with our girl and her son. I then came home to take care of my own baby with fever. I read a couple chapters of Peter Pan to my big boy. I made do in some situations that didn’t feel ideal. I’ve driven people to counselling. I’ve gone to the gym (I have a thing for my personal trainer 😉 thankfully I’m married to him!) I held a dance rehearsal. I’ve cleaned. So many time but you can hardly tell. But I cleaned. I’ve grocery shopped. I’ve disciplined.

Stepping back I see how extraordinary the week has been. I can see that what I’m doing now is shaping not only my own children’s future but our extras futures as well. I can see that what I do and say on an ordinary day is what’s molding my family today. I can see that lives are changed not just in the big one time gifts or experiences. Lives are changed in the every day.

In the consistency of your love you are writing history.

So today… let the magnitude of the ordinary sink in. This is eternal. You cannnot see eternity or know the weight of what you are doing in this day and it cannot be measured outside of eternity.

The other day I was getting fresh produce and I saw a big bag of calaloo. I don’t know if there is another name for it, but it’s a type of greens. It reminds me of the greens I ate as a little girl in Africa (missionary kid, remember?). As I went into the kitchen to cook them I remembered the last time I made it.  It was a few months after my husband and I had gotten married, so I was still 18. We had run out of cooking gas and didn’t have money to refill it. So I pulled out the electric griddle and put a pot on it and cooked the greens for dinner. For a solid week I cooked every meal on the electric griddle. I was thankful  I still had something to cook on. Have you seen this quote floating around social media?

“I still remember the days I prayed for the things I have now”

I do…until I don’t. I’m prone to have an answer to prayer and quickly move along onto the next thing I see on the list that I need God to come through for me for and fail to remember. So here goes. I’m going to remember.

I remember when I was a teenager and after 3 years of depression I prayed and said, “I will love you God, even if the depression never leaves.” Today I don’t battle like I did before. I can tell when it’s creeping back in, especially after having my boys, but I know how to fight it. I recognize it.

I remember when we first got married and 3 friends were living with us and I was pregnant and we ran out of money and groceries. They were looking for jobs. My husband was doing personal training at his first little gym in the village and I was teaching dance part-time. I looked through all my wallets and purses and couldn’t even find coins. That’s how bad it was. I closed the empty wallet and prayed and said, “We need groceries.” I opened the wallet to find some money ($20 or $50… I can’t remember exactly) and I was able to buy food that night. We all ate.

I remember when we had our first son and it turned into a csection delivery and we had him in a private hospital because it was the safest option. We sacrificed like crazy just to have enough for the normal delivery and were then handed a bill for over 4 times the amount we were prepared for. No payment plans. I started to sweat. Then we were told it was paid for in full. Someone we knew had been given a large blessing and decided to use some of it to bless us.

I remember when my husband and I took our first foster placement and needed…well, everything. We didn’t technically  have three bedrooms so we turned one into two and cut a door into the wall to create a third. I remember the body of believers who gave toiletries, bought shoes, dropped meat off at our house and got us a bed. That room has now hosted 5 kids in the last 2 years.

I remember when we needed financial assistance to continue to run the youth ministry we had been leading at a church before it closed down, and a business generously sponsored us for a year and another ministry graciously opened up their space to us to continue doing what we were doing.

I remember the countless miracles and supply that happened after that year of sponsorship ended and we continued to do what God wanted even when we didn’t see the answer. I remember once saying to myself, “we can get groceries or we can take the kids to youth group and church this weekend.” We took them to church and God took care of the rest.

I remember a year ago when my husband was waiting to hear back if the loan for his own real gym would be approved. He had recently quit his job in anticipation and a step of faith in the next season. A few days after he quit I found out I was pregnant. I remember praying and waiting in faith that the Lord would provide. A couple of weeks later it was approved. Today his business is thriving and God has blessed us.

I remember when I needed $300 for my doctor’s appointment while pregnant with my second son and I prayed and prayed. The day before the appointment I pulled one of my sons books off his shelf and $300 crisp bills fell onto the floor. We live in a humid country. They looked like they just came out of an ATM.

My husband shared at youth group a few of weeks ago about his/our story since we got married. Of living by and stepping out in faith when there was no plan B and no backup plan. And I totally agree. But we do have something to fall back on…we can fall back on the promises of God and remembering his faithfulness in coming through for us at the very last moment when all hope was lost. When there seemed to be no way and God made a way. The past few weeks were hard. Everything seemed to be breaking and not going “right”. I got frustrated. Discontented. And God had to really wake me up to remind me that he has never failed me yet. And he never will. To remember how he always comes through and to be still, content and wait.  And after I remembered a peace and a joy filled me. Right after that peace and joy came I got really bad news… and I didn’t flinch. I just prayed and went about my day. I prayed for grace. For favor. For a better outcome but no matter what I’d trust God with it. The next day the awful news got a little bit better. Not completely but it was better than I had thought. Then everything that had been broken somehow got fixed in the very same day and some incredible news came my way. And I realized that if the bad thing hadn’t happened I would never have been given the good news. He worked it all for my good.

So let’s remember more often. Let’s remember that there was a time we waited on God for what we have in this very moment and believe that for now it’s enough and he was always come through when we need him the most.

“…for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:11-13

Anyone besides me get anxiety when someone comes over? Especially unannounced? They come in. I see my mess. They see my mess. I have a mini panic attack and try to smile and act like I’m not totally mortified they caught my house (or me…) looking like this. I also feel like when someone asks if I need help when they’re over I have to say no, because it’s my mess and I’m embarrassed of my mess. I mean, even after I had my csection and my mom would come to help me I felt so guilty and ashamed at the mess she was helping me with. I felt so bad about the laundry she helped me wash. So the majority of the time when people ask me if I need help, I’ll say no. Not because I don’t need it, but I’m afraid to let people see my mess.

And isn’t that how we are as humans? Someone asks if we are ok and we shut down that metal shop door as quickly as possible over our hearts and we say, “I’m good!” We pull out the mask and pretend we are fine. No mess here. You can move along now and help someone in real need, don’t waste your time on me. Insert eye roll. How often is this me. How often is this us. We hide. We hide in our mess afraid someone will see us and find out. Because if someone else sees it, it’s real. If someone else sees it really is a mess, but if I hide it, it isn’t really there. If I keep hiding it I don’t have to deal with it.

Because if someone else sees it it’s real.

But the day will come when that mask slips and someone gets a glimpse of you. The real you. The hurting you, the overwhelmed you, the depressed you, the angry you, the messed up and down right broken you…don’t run and hide. Don’t fix the mask. Rip it off. It will hurt. Letting someone else into our mess. It’s scary. What if they judge me? What will they think of me? My life should be together at this point and it’s only falling apart. I’m too much right now. I’m not enough right now. What will they do when they see me for Me? If it’s the right person they will love you. They will help you or lead you to someone else who can.  Maybe the most courageous thing you can do it find someone to confide in and invite them in to your mess. The very best thing is to invite Jesus into your mess. We don’t have to fix ourselves and tidy up our hearts, our thoughts, our lives before he can come in. Invite him into your mess. Let HIM sort it out. Piece by piece.

When you have a messy house you can’t conquer everything in one fell swoop. When you have a task at hand that is overwhelming you just start somewhere. . You pick a room. An area. And just DO something. When you feel you can’t do anything, the best thing to do it to just do the next best thing. 

The next best thing. One thing. One step. Maybe that’s inviting a friend into your mess…maybe it’s inviting Jesus into your mess. Maybe it literally attacking that messy house that is causing you to feel overwhelmed and anxious. Maybe it’s starting a project you’ve been holding off on (like how I did with this blog…) because it just felt too big. Figure out the next best thing and do it.

The only way out of your mess is through it.

“Wake up early before everyone else”
“You need an appointed quiet time with God every day”

I’ve heard a lot of well-meaning advice to me as a mom about spending time with God. Saying I need a QUIET time with him every day at the same time for a certain amount of time. I remember thinking, “Well I would LOVE that!” but it wasn’t realistic with a newborn. It isn’t realistic now with a 3-year-old and a 3 month old.
The first year of my first borns life I BEAT myself up for not having “quiet time” with God every day. I felt so guilty. I must be failing at the Christian mother thing. Then an amazing woman reminded me of something. She shared a life changing verse with me.

“He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young.” Isaiah 40:11

She told me God knows this season is hard. He sees you and isn’t seeing if you have spent your 30 minutes of quiet time with him. He knows. He is gently leading you in this difficult season.

I felt so free. I felt like a burden had been lifted. But as my first-born got older I still struggled with having time with God. I wanted it. As a teenager I spent so much time writing in my prayer journals, playing my keyboard and singing to him. Being involved in so much. Reading my Bible and underlining everything. I missed it. I felt as if I hadn’t grown in my faith since he was born. When in fact I had, just in a way I didn’t expect.
God was using motherhood to gently, and sometimes not so gently, weed out the things in my heart that I didn’t even realize were there.

Motherhood can bring out the best in you, but also reveals the worst in you.

And God had been dealing with me. Weeding out the selfishness, the anger, and dealing with the hurts from my own childhood.
But I realized something… sometimes, maybe we don’t need to grow…sometimes, maybe we need to remain.

Maybe I should stop measuring my relationship by my “growth” but by his grace.

• He is giving me grace to remain in him John 15:4 “Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.”
• To abide in him. John 14:7 “If you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.
• To keep standing when I feel too weak. Ephesians 6:13 “Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.”

Something I did that helped me remain and hold on during the first year as a new mom was worship music. Pieces by Amanda Cook especially spoke to me. When I felt distant from God and like I was too much of a mess for Him I would listen to this…

“Unreserved, unrestrained
Your love is wild
Your love is wild for me
It isn’t shy, it’s unashamed
Your love is proud
To be seen with me

You don’t give Your heart in pieces
You don’t hide Yourself to tease us”

Now that this isn’t my first child (we also foster, so we have had ages 4-17 in the last year and a half), and this baby isn’t colicky, THANK YOU JESUS, I am more creative with my time with God. I find opportunities better than I did the first time. I value SHORT times with God. The two sentences I get written out in my prayer journal, the half a chapter I read before someone needs me, the prayers at 3 AM. No where in the Bible does it tell you that you need a specific time to be alone with God. No where does it say daily Bible reading is MANDATORY and if you don’t you’re not a true Christian. Of course it’s amazing to read it every day, and I want to, but some days… it doesn’t happen. The Bible DOES say to hide his word in your heart ( I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you. Psalm 19:11) Jesus didn’t die to abolish the law and the regulations for us to become free and then again burden ourselves with made up church/religious laws. This whole Jesus thing is about relationship. Anyone that’s married knows that after you have kids, you miss the time or how things were before a bit…or a lot. You miss uninterrupted conversations and alone time. But you both know you still love each other and you know you are in this TOGETHER and it won’t always be this way. In a year there will be more sleep and alone time. And you do the best you can and enjoy all the moments you get alone together. Well, we are the bride. God is the groom. You’re in this life thing together. ❤ Take heart. Remain, even if you see no growth. Simply remain in Him today.

I asked God, “What would it look like to extend your grace to myself? What would life look like if I gave myself grace?”

I remember laying on the couch feeling extra pregnant and tired, boys were napping and I had a mile long to do list and a youth group coming over for bible study that evening. I looked at the Christmas tree and heard a voice inside say, “That tree is beautiful. Good job. Look at all those clean clothes you have for your family (three huge baskets waiting to be folded.) Good job. Rest dear one, the boys are sleeping.”

Tears. Tears thinking about it. Because that’s how Jesus would talk to me. And it’s so far from how I talk to myself. My voice inside my head I use to scold myself or make myself feel guilty all the time is so unpleasant. And if I lived life with that kind of grace it would be a beautiful thing.

I saw someone post on facebook the other day, “Grace gives way for truth.” How true is that statement! The truth is is that I am loved and delighted in by God, and when I withhold grace from myself (because God sure isn’t) I am unable to accept the truth, unable to see it. The truth? I am loved. I am delighted in. Crazy as it sounds, He is proud of me.

Motherhood depletes you. And Jesus renews you.