Christmas Greetings!

Here is a posting of the Christmas letter we sent out this year--

In the era of instant and constant communication via email and text and twitter, Christmas letters seem like an odd throwback to an earlier era, but please bear with me!  Part of the reason I write them is to preserve in one tangible place a record of God’s faithfulness to our family year after year.   It is a chance for me to sit down and remember the ways He has preserved us in the midst of trial and blessed us in times of plenty.   I don’t want to simply send out a “who did what in the Birmingham family” letter.  My hope is that in reading our story, you will be encouraged to contemplate the one He wants to write in you.  The letter is really about Him!

To be honest, this has been a year of stretching for all of us.  Our plans have been changed so often that we now hold all of our expectations for the future very loosely.  It is not a bad way to live, once you get used to the reality that you are not in control—and the realization that you never have been!  But it comes with many moments of watching the dreams you had worked out for your family be replaced by something different, which is not easy for people who have always been big fans of maps, plans, and orderly agendasJ  So Jamey and I are learning what it is like to be free spirits, being carried along instead of leading the charge.

The biggest surprise for us is that our foster children, Kaiden and Keira, are still with us with no real timetable for reunification with their Mom—and no real prospect for them to remain with us.   They are only five and three years old, and they have been waiting for over 2 ½ years to find out from their Mom if they are worth working for.   What this means for our family is that we are in what seems like perpetual limbo.  We can’t plan for our future or theirs.  We are watching their hearts and the hearts of our children become bonded here with the knowledge that we may have to drop them off one day soon and never see them again.  Keira doesn’t know that we are not her “real” family because we have raised her for well over half her life.  What will the upcoming separation do to her ability to bond?  How will she overcome the feelings of rejection over being “given away” by us? 

On the other hand, Kaiden has heard so many promises and seen so many deadlines pass that he is gradually shutting his heart to everyone.  He is full of anger at the adults who have seemingly kept him from life with his Mom.  And he uses behavior to exert control on the world that has betrayed him over and over again.  And as we try to stop the emotional bleed, we are left waiting.  Waiting beyond the deadlines laid out by Michigan and Federal law.  Waiting beyond what specialists say is the threshold for preventing permanent damage to a child’s ability to bond and form healthy relationships.  Waiting for the courts, or lawyers, or social workers, or parents to act on behalf of these little ones. 

Trust me when I say that I have given only the barest outline of the challenges we have faced in our interactions with the foster care system this year.  If you want to know the details of this saga, they are laid out on our blog www.jdbirmingham.blogspot.com .  It is not for the faint of heart!  I think we all wish that the system was laid out for the protection of both parental rights and child welfare, but the balance has tipped to “reunification at all costs” and that puts innocent ones at risk and those who are caring for them into interminable uncertainty.  We are praying about what God might want us to do with all this information in the future, but right now we are just trying to write our chapter with these precious children in a way that nurtures them and honors Him.  Please pray with us!

Jamey continues to search for a partner at his practice.  He is now booking patients over a year in advance—a frustration for both him and the ones he is trying to serve.  There is a shortage of specialists in his field, and with the coming health care overhaul and the influx of new regulations, the wait times will only increase.  He often has to arrange his schedule to see emergent cases on his days off or after hours, but it is just this level of commitment to his patients which makes them see him as a friend and advocate and not just a physician.  Somehow he still manages to be fully “present” when he is home with us, making time for games and recitals, sports activities and family devotions.  However, we all look forward to the day when a partner at work enables him to be here more often.

I am continuing to homeschool most of the children.  Kaiden is attending our local kindergarten, where he has been blessed with a very loving and patient teacher.  She is exactly the kind of grown-up he needs in his life—affectionate, but firm and extremely consistent, and he is doing well there.   He is a budding athlete and loves nothing more than to be in the thick of a baseball, basketball, or football game with the older boys.  Despite being the smallest boy, he is always first to dive into the pile of arms and legs and dirt in our front yard.  His tenacity and toughness will serve him well someday, I’m sure!

Rebekah is a high school senior and finishing up a few required classes here, while at the same time taking some courses at our local Community College.  She is hoping to get a degree in Music Therapy, an exciting field which works with emotionally or mentally disabled children and adults, hospice patients, and nursing home residents, to increase health and healing using the power of music.  She is a gifted harpist and has also been trying her hand and piano, flute, and guitar.  She has such a peaceful spirit, and it has been a delight to watch her blossom into the caring, capable young lady she is. 

Christina is in 9^th grade and is participating in the Challenge program at our local Classical Conversations group.  She is taking Algebra, logic, literature, Latin, Mock Trial, current events, and science courses.  She meets with her class one day and week, and completes the bulk of her work at home.  It is almost a college-type format, and she has taken great strides in personal responsibility.  Although I am still her teacher, she is increasingly taking ownership of her education, which is our goal for all of our children.  Our hope is that they will always seek out and sit under great teaching, and I have really enjoyed watching her interests expand in the areas of theology and politics, and philosophy. And of course, I especially relish the opportunity to read and discuss great literature with her!  In addition to schoolwork, Christina plays the viola for congregational singing at church, and has recently had the opportunity to play at two weddings and a funeral.   We are so grateful for our daughters, and seeing the way God has written their stories so far has given us hope for the future of Kaiden and Keira.

And our boys—well…what a great invention boys are!  They are a constant source of laughter and entertainment and humility for parents.   They are the risk takers, mess makers, and stuff breakers.  But I love their brave ideas and loyalty and enthusiasm, and the way they still come and nestle in for a hug after a busy day of conquering the world. 

Elijah is 10 and has discovered sports this year.  He played Little League and now is involved with a homeschool basketball league.  He is smaller than all of his teammates, but makes up for it in tenacity and gumption.  He has really begun to show maturity in his studies this year, and is a cheerful and dependable worker.  One of the beauties of having a large family is that people simply HAVE to serve one another or the whole thing falls apart.  Elijah is my go-to runner between here and Grammi’s house.  He often helps Jamey and Papa with yard work, but he can also do any household chore that pops up, and he has even begun helping next door with Grammi sometimes.  My favorite thing about Elijah is that he really wants to learn what a man of God is and does, and he is showing a softer heart to instruction.  It is good to have him as the leader our young men!

Isaiah is our tender hearted people person.  At age (almost) eight, he already has a radar for how others are feeling and the ability to put people at ease.  He gives great compliments and loves a good joke.  His appreciation for food has made him adept in the kitchen, and every morning he tries to cook the world’s most perfect over-easy eggs.  He has experimented with heat levels, ratios of butter to salt, flipping techniques, and various pans.  After he cooks his eggs, he will bring them to me on a plate and gravely point out their merits and flaws.  Then he trundles back to the table and eats them with great gusto.  I absolutely love to watch him eat!  His brows furrow and he gets the most intense look of concentration—as if he is analyzing and appreciating each bite.  Isaiah is the source of many of the grand plans in our house, both brilliant and ill-conceived, and as such, he also bears much of the blame for the ones that go awry.  But he remains undaunted.  I appreciate his “grab life by the horns” approach to—everything!

Jude is 5, and reminds me so much of my Dad.  He looks and acts like a small version of Papa—except for the fact that he got glasses this year.  What a surprise to learn at his annual check-up that he could not even see the top row of the eye chart!  Seeing has made him braver in his interactions with the world, and he is taking part in more of his brothers’ adventures than he used to.  He is enjoying his official entrance to our “school” this year, and is doing a fantastic job with all the Classical Conversations memory work.  I love the diversity of Jude’s interests.  Most mornings when I go in to wake him up, I find that he has surreptitiously smuggled books into his bed…or rocks, or rubber bands, small plastic animals, crayons and paper, random coins or keys—once I even found a globe wedged between his pillow and the wall.  He is a meditative and quite content to inhabit the world of his imagination when the real people in his life are busy.  He likes to count and sing history sentences while he is showering, and it is not uncommon to see him jump up from his trains or cars to check a random geography location on our wall map.  He has a very soft heart toward Kaiden and Keira, and also toward his MamaJ

Keira continues to makes developmental strides.  She is very maternal and often has a baby doll on her shoulder or sitting with her on the couch.  She loves to hear stories and is a brave participant in many of the boys’ rough-and-tumble games.  She is very attached to all of us, having lived here from the age of 15 months to her current age of 3 ½.  We are praying and trusting that God, who knows her and made her as she is, will help her navigate the emotions which will come from the transition back to her mother’s house.

In closing, I wanted to share an observation I made last fall during one of my outdoor runs.  The leaves had all fallen and the whole world was at that dull, gray stage that comes before the snow.  The air was cold and the sky was heavy and dark, but every so often along the trail, peeking out from under a pile of dead leaves was a flash of vivid green.  It was so bright and so beautiful that I actually stopped for a closer look, and what I saw was a small, low growing plant with smooth, waxy, shamrock-shaped leaves.  There was nothing remarkable about the plant.  In fact, it was so small and so ordinary that I am sure I ran by it a hundred times over the summer without noticing its existence.  What made it exceptional was the color of its life against the deadness of the world where it was growing, and the strength it possessed to thrive there. 

Two thoughts came to my mind at that moment.  First, a season of darkness brings out elements of ordinary beauty which would otherwise be completely overlooked.  Those bright spots are gifts indeed, held more closely and appreciated more deeply than abundant pleasures in a season of plenty.  Through disappointment and waiting and weariness, I have been more aware of the small blessings.  And they are many!  I am grateful to be surrounded by the family that I have.  Jamey has a secure job and a meaningful calling.  We have freedom to worship and to lead our family as we see fit.  I am gathering green leaves from under the brown with thankfulness!

Second, it made me think about our role as people in a world of pain and sadness.  This Christmas season has been marred by news of a tragedy among children at a small school in Connecticut.  The rest of the planet is groaning under the weight of its pain and sickness, sadness and sin.  So what can we do?  How ought we to respond? 

We don’t need to lie buried under layers of despair.  Through the power of God, we can be shoots of green, bringers of hope—living reminders of His love, of the beauty of redemption, and of the promise of new life in Christ.  What a gift!

For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God—Romans 3:23

For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord—Romans 6:23

For God so loved the world that he gave His only Son, that whoever believed in Him should not perish but have everlasting LIFE—John 3:16

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness, a light has dawned…For to us a child is born, to us a son is given,
    and the government will be on his shoulders.  And he will be called
    Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace—Isaiah 9:2, 6

Praying your heart is warmed by the knowledge of the deep love of God toward you! 

Love and blessings from all of us—

Jamey, Sandra, Rebekah, Christina, Elijah, Isaiah, Jude, Kaiden, and Keira

 

Living Among the Living

It is no secret that I am more suited to life in 1870 than life in 2012.  Electronic gizmos and gadgets defeat me.  I am appalled by new technology.  So excessive!  So unnecessary!  So alarmingly inescapable!

I don't like things pinging and boinging at me all day.  I don't like screens with scrolling headlines at the bottom, rolling comments on the side, and moving pictures in the middle.  I don't enjoy typing with my thumbs or swiping with any of my other digits.  I like mailing that involves stamps, tweeting that involves birds, and pinning that involves...pins.

It took me 10 years to really master email and I still can't find most of my Word documents.  I blunder through my interactions with my laptop.  It hates me, and I return the favor by deleting and reformatting and downloading things at random.

I almost cried when Jamey gave me his old Android, and not from joy.  THERE ARE NO BUTTONS!  My old phone looked like a small typewriter, and that made me happy.  This new one has a gaping black hole for a face, and every so often it makes a noise like thunder and throws up a green robot.  My dear husband keeps downloading apps for me, and I keep pretending they don't exist.  As far as I can tell, they are just roadblocks to successfully dialing a call.  As in, "Sorry, Mom.  I tried to reach you, but I ended up checking movie times in San Antonio and listening to 12 minutes of  iHeart Radio instead."

Perhaps I missed my cue to come on stage in the 19th century.  (I am prone to lateness.)   Perhaps I am just a terminal fuddy-duddy.  Whatever the case, I wanted to be up front with my prejudice on the issue I am about to discuss.

That issue is social media.

 Specifically, is Facebook truly a helpful relationship tool?  Or is it Satanic?  (Oops.  That just slipped off the tips of my fingers:)  Is texting a leap forward in human communication?  Or an evil plot by orthopedic hand surgeons to fund construction on their Maui vacation homes?  Will Twitter one day make sentences with more than four words obsolete?  Is Pinterest the equivalent of crack cocaine for artsy, suburban women?  Should it be on the list of controlled substances?   What about video gaming communities?  If a man doesn't blink for 27 hours and only his thumbs are twitching, is he alive?  And at that point, should his friends be staging an intervention, or planning a funeral?

Will we even know what our friends' faces look like in the near future?

I can see it now.  "Sorry...I can't place you...could you show me the top of your head?  OH!!  Of course!  Two bald spots and a patch of gray left of center!  We met at that dinner last week, remember?  You were texting with your red Galaxy S III?  I had the iPhone 5?  Here, look at the top of my head!  What did you say your handle was again?"

So snarky.  So cynical.  What exactly is my problem with progress?  Do I have feelings of inadequacy stemming from my technological ineptitude?  Probably.  Am I a little hurt that the world has moved on and left me and 8 tracks and ink pots in the ash heap of history?  Not really.  I like it here.  We have books that smell papery and delicious, we get to write to real people on pretty stationery with actual pens, and we almost never get neck cramps or carpel tunnel.

And anyway, retro is cool right now.

No, after six years of thought, I have concluded that our love affair with electronic eyeballs is truly a moral issue and not just my personal allergy.  All human communication is not created equal.  Quantity does not equal quality.  Frequency does not equal intimacy.  Accessibility does not equal knowability.

In other words, medium matters.

This coalesced for me during a recent Advent meditation.  I was thinking again about the miracle of presence--of the idea of God coming face to face with humanity.  The thought that kept coming back was, "Why"? 

With all the available forms of communication available to an omnipotent God, why did he choose to walk with us--first with Adam and Eve in the garden, and then later as the God/man Christ, and then even afterward as the indwelling Spirit?  Why not use telepathy or imprinting--or wait until the dawn of the information age and broadcast the message to the whole world via satellite?  Mass media is so efficient.  Human contact is so time consuming and inefficient.  And complicated and messy.

Look what happened with Adam.  He had perfect friendship with the Lord of the Universe, and still managed to break the rules and break the relationship.  Emotional closeness led to pain for both the Lover and the beloved.  Same story with the disciples and their selfishness and bickering, inconsistencies, betrayals, doubt and misunderstanding.

Why would Christ give up heaven to spend thirty-three, heart-rending years with that crowd, day in and day out?  Why not just send the message and spare the Messenger?  Let the chips fall!  Make the case, convincingly lay out the incentives and consequences, and then sit back and see if anyone hits the "like" button, but don't risk actual involvement.  Certainly don't put your LIFE on the line. Why would God be that extreme?  

The answer that kept coming is the same one that always comes when I am questioning why God does what he does.

Because it is best.

It is best to be eye to eye and skin to skin.  It is intimate, arresting, and satisfying in a way that no other mode of communication can match.

How many marriages would thrive on occasional contact via airwaves and images?  How close could you be to a child you never saw in person?   Who could really know you if their only glimpses into your mind were the carefully staged and filtered comments you made in a public forum?   And which of us would ever allow hundreds of "friends" unfettered access to our TRUE selves?  

Knowing what your former college roommate had for breakfast does not make you close to her.  Reading a tweet about the gory details of her root canal may be interesting and seeing pictures of her kids at their recital may be sweet, but it does not make you friends.  It makes you an amused consumer, and it makes her life (the parts she chooses to reveal) part of your entertainment. 

Is it possible that Facebook, texting, tweeting--even pinning--satisfies the need to feel connected in some way, but removes the messy vulnerability and emotional entanglements of actual relationships?  It asks nothing of me but what I choose to give.  I offer my comments on my schedule, at my convenience and people respond (or don't respond) at theirs.  It is a real life sitcom which I can follow with the same level of commitment that I might give to an episode of Sesame Street --and the same attention span. 

And best of all, it frees me up to pursue the really important things in life.  Like my own agenda.  No need to stop and linger.  Tweet now.  I'll think about it later. 

Pin your project.  I'll look it up at my convenience.  Don't make me come over and share in the sweetness of shared creativity. 

Send me a scrolling account of your day.  If it fits in, I'll take a peek and offer you a virtual pat on the back or the promise of a prayer later on.  But don't make me drop everything and meet you in person for an hour of shared intercession.  I don't really want to watch you cry into your teacup at my table because then my kid might miss one of his hundred thousand soccer practices.

No thank you on that time consuming give-and-take that happens during an actual conversation over the course of an afternoon or during a shared meal--or even in a voice-to-voice phone call.  I'll pass on the opportunity to learn the shades and subtleties of YOU. 

The veiled subtext of your body language and posture, the noting and responding to a downcast eye or a quivering voice requires more effort from me than I am willing to give.  So send me the Cliffs Notes!  And make them funny or I won't hit the like button!

So, who knows you?  Really?  Who do you let into your home to watch you in your interactions with your family?  Who has seen the way you speak to your children and the respect you do or do not offer your spouse?  Who do you allow to see your "private" habits and the way you spend your time?  Who could come close enough to see what you are not saying when you speak?  Who have you allowed to get past the wrapping paper and ribbons and rhetoric of your public persona to the real YOU?  Does anyone get to challenge your thinking?  Whose heart beats so closely with yours that they can ask the hard questions? 

 "How is your marriage?"

 "When did this parenting struggle begin?"

 "Are you being faithful in your commitments?"

"Are you sure your current path is wise?  Honorable?  Loving?"

What about the gift of being able to watch other families besides your own in their "natural habitat"?  Remember when we used to learn from each other?  When we took the time to see what people were doing well and made changes in our own lives?  What about the value of  watching and learning what has not worked for others so that we can try to avoid the same pitfalls? 

Our Designer has led us by example here.  We are relational beings.  He offers the real thing with Himself and with others, but it can only happen when consistent, purposeful time is spent in His word and at His feet--and then at kitchen tables and backyards and front porches, sharing meals and work and conversation.

And real time. 

And as usual, the deceiver is right behind Him, offering a shinier, easier, lazier version.  Chocolate covered toad.  We nibble at first and find the chocolate to be tasty.  So we take bigger bites and it goes down so smoothly that we can almost ignore the eyeballs and the prickly feet.  And then, before we know it we are horking down great piles of the stuff, to the complete exclusion of real food.  

I am not condemning the actual invention of Facebook.  It is ingenious.  I applaud the mind behind it.  But it, like everything invented by God and man, is prone to abuses.  And what I am mourning is the permission it grants us to construct the facade of human relationship, without any of the blood and guts.  Unfortunately guts, with all their sounds and smells and warnings and workings, are an ugly necessity to real living, my friends.  Without them you can only have a statue or a corpse.  Not a real life.

Similarly, a living friendship is built through the patient study of the inner workings of another human being (metaphysically speaking:)  It is achieved by the tenacity of individuals who will stand by us in loving persistence, face to face, and look and listen until finally we allow ourselves to feel safe and be seen.  The masks, inventions, and projections come down.  The delicate parts of our souls are revealed.   And it satisfies us in the way of all things that are worked for and hard-won.

I am so blessed to have people in my life who are willing to love me like that.  They have loved me long after my entertainment value has worn off.  They love me through the warp and woof of daily life.  Some of them live with me.  Some of them see me often in a week.  Some of them are far away--and this is where I am grateful for the miracles of technology.  But even they come when they can.  Face to face.  A handful of people who love me a mile deep instead of an inch thick. 

I hope I don't come off as part of the "Down with Everything!" crowd.  Please don't de-friend me!  I use social media from time to time.  It has some very good elements.  Cute pictures, catchy sayings, etc.  And maybe everyone but me is great at growing and nurturing superb physical friendships while at the same time surfing and posting and pinning and tweeting.   Let's hope.

I am, however, trying to urge caution.  Having observed the tendency among humans (including myself) to see a good thing and gorge themselves sick on it, I am standing on the sidelines in my "Remember the Humans!" t-shirt as an advocate for prudence and moderation.   One shouldn't throw the baby out with the bathwater, but neither should a person drink the bathwater and eat the baby.  Right?

Middle ground, friends.  Find it and build your house on it. 

And then invite people to visit you there.

***********************

P.S.  I would welcome other insights and opinions on this issue.  There must be another side to the story and I would love to hear it. I know my opinions are colored by my natural distrust of new-fangled inventions, and I really do want to be fair.  So please, share your thoughts!

I'll be waiting for your text!  ;)

The problem is... Me?

In my last writing, (http://jdbirmingham.blogspot.com/2012/11/america-in-with-roarout-with-tweet.html) I briefly examined what I believe are the roots of our nation's moral and fiscal decline, as I asserted that our national degradation can be blamed in large part on rampant selfishness, along with a culture that feeds that deadly sin by pandering to the individual's whims.

Our nation was founded by a people who longed for religious and economic freedom.  They pursued this, at great personal risk, in order to secure the hope and promise of freedom for themselves and their offspring.  However, as the country went on and achieved unparalleled prosperity over the years, we have devolved from admiration of those founding principles to a people that more and more look at those who have attained some success with varying levels of suspicion, envy, and disdain.

Which of us has not looked at some high achiever, whether they be entertainer or athlete, or a business tycoon or whatever, with one of those negative feelings?  Rudimentary observation will show this tendency repeated all around us. 

I recently observed the mother of a toddler at a Christmas parade in our home town.  She concluded that the candy being distributed to the onlooking children was being given out in what must have been a disproportionate amount to kids on the other side of the street.  So, she marched herself and her little angel over to some of the parade participants and, in a not too pleasant tone, demanded some of the candy for her budding entitled one.  This little one who, no doubt, had never had a piece of candy of her own, right? 

If someone would get so up in arms over cheap pieces of candy, thought to be unequally distributed, how much more does this indignation rise when someone is being paid millions for something that may not seem quite fair.  What about--oh, I don't know--say, to put a round, orange ball in a basket over and over?  Never mind that the ones who decry that paycheck are usually the very ones who pay for the over-priced tickets and exorbitant cable TV prices that lead to those salaries in the first place. 

However, even more insidious than looking down at others with some perceived moral superiority, it has now become increasingly "reasonable" to systematically seize the resources of another and give to those who are (often) unwilling to make the same level investment and sacrifice.  And even if it is not the work ethic that led to success, but simply that someone was in the right place or time, or maybe is more naturally gifted, does that then justify taking from them to give to another, without their consent?

I would just like to ask, is it not just as selfish to demand the productivity of another to be given to you, as it is for the one with plenty to hoard all his wealth for himself?

Even those of us who claim to value individual success and freedom, and try to live in such manner most of their lives, can fall prey to these kind of thoughts.  I am not exempt, and neither are you. Covetousness is forbidden in the Ten Commandments for a reason. 

Selfishness is then undoubtedly one of the primary threats to our democratic system of government, and our founders knew this, as they understood that a tyranny of the majority will arise when the people learn that they can vote for themselves resources from the "public" coffers.  And it is for this reason that our founders also knew that our system of limited government and free enterprise could not succeed if the people were not a religious and moral people (as asserted by John Adams, among others).

It is only a people who understand their proper place in the cosmos, that they are indeed accountable to an ULTIMATE authority, who can thrive in a system where the success of others may far surpass their own.  It is for this reason, that I believe the fundamental problem we have in this country is that we (I include myself) are selfish.  We don't want someone else to have more than we do, even if they earned it.  We find it difficult to rejoice in the successes of others. 

Oh, how hard it can be to rejoice in the blessings or successes of others, particularly if we are struggling!  We may be inclined to think, "they didn't really build that", or "someone gave them an unfair advantage", or "they must have cheated or lied to get where they are".  We demonize anyone who has reached high levels of success as having obtained it unfairly in some manner.  Perhaps it is true, at times, or perhaps it simply makes us feel better for our own difficulties or failures. 

It is upon these observations that I identify what I believe to be the ultimate solution to our national problem.  As I have said, the answer is simple, but not easy to implement.  Quite simply, we must exterminate the selfishness within ourselves.  Jesus has given this command as an absolute prerequisite to anyone who wishes to be his follower.  This is the essence of true Christian discipleship and is exemplified by Matthew 16:24, Mark 8:34, and Luke 9:23.

"Then he said to them all: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me."  Luke 9:23

If this is the bedrock upon which the Christian religion is built, then it is certainly a good foundation for our country as well.  However, it is my strong belief that the broader institution of the "Christian" church (of all denominations) in the USA has failed to live out this call, and it is this abdication of responsibility that has led to our national moral decline.  The church, as a whole, is indistinguishable from the rest of the world and until those INDIVIDUALS who claim to know Christ will live more faithfully the call to die to the self, we can not expect the rest of the nation to follow, to any degree. 

Thankfully, my wife and I share many of the same brainwaves and some of the thoughts I originally planned to explore related to this topic have been beautifully conveyed in a recent blog post on a similar theme:

http://jdbirmingham.blogspot.com/2012/11/the-hobo-within.html  

I would strongly recommend reading that post as it is a very comprehensive and entertaining exploration of the dangers of self centered thinking and the need to rid ourselves of... well... the self.

It is my contention, somewhat ironically, that it is the exaltation of the self that has led to the decline of our country and will ultimately be our final undoing.  In the future, I plan to examine how self denial should be lived out practically in the life of an individual Christian if there is to be any hope of reclaiming what has been, and will be, lost. 

G.K. Chesterton famously replied to a newspaper editorial that posed the question "What is wrong with the world?" with the following:

Dear Sirs:

I am.

Sincerely Yours,

G. K. Chesterton

What remarkable depths of insight in such a succinct statement as that!  This captures the essential attitude of a true follower of Christ better than many full length books and is worthy of full consideration.   

The Problem by Downhere  

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Keppnmh9yMM

There's got to be some reason for all this misery
A secret evil corporation somewhere overseas
They're pulling strings, arranging things
It's a conspiracy
Or what about the ones who shape the course of history
What if we petitioned for one grand apology?
I'll write to my prime minister
You, write your president
Everybody's wondering how the world could get this way
If God is good, and how it could be filled with so much pain
It's not the age-old mystery we made it out to be
Yeah, there's a problem with the world
And the problem with the world is me
Some will say the devil and his legions
They put us in a headlock of submission
But they lost all power over me
A long, long time ago
And since I was a kid you know I've caused a lot of hurt
And no one ever taught me how to put myself first
It came so very naturally
But I'm not a prodigy
So I will look no further than a mirror
That's where the offender hides
So great is my need for a redeemer
That I cannot trust myself
No, I cannot trust my self
I dare not trust myself
So I trust in someone else
The sooner you can sing along
The sooner you can sing this song
The happier we'll be
The problem with the world is me

Bragging + Blogging = Blagging. Or is it Brogging?

Whatever it is, you've been warned!

It's odd how the older my children get, the less I feel I can write about them.  Funny anecdotes at age two are precious.  Funny anecdotes at age 14 are embarrassing.  And so, out of respect, I keep the details about such things as laundry opera, kitchen dance marathons and sisterly wrestling matches under wraps.  

For now.

But I am saving up.  And when my children are all up and out, the reminiscing will begin!  (And if anyone fusses, I will shuffle over and remind them that it is not kind to criticize old people:) 

On the other hand, it is also hard to praise my kids in a public forum without coming off as bragadocious.   But tonight I am going to take that risk because my heart is full. 

This morning, my daughters and Jamey ran a 5K together.  Rebekah has arthritis in her hips and back.  Christina just hates running.  And Jamey not only has arthritis, but also an injured hamstring.  

And it was 32 degrees and snowing.  

They trained for months with no prodding, no partners, and no real incentives, other than that they wanted to achieve a goal together.  At the end of the Jingle Bell Run, the girls had beaten their best time ever and crossed the line together at 32 minutes, 28 seconds.  Jamey smoked his previous record with a 22:10 finish and got a medal for second place...  

...which he did not want me to hang on the Christmas tree--but, surprise!  I did it anyway. 

 I have decided it will be our family "pickle".  (FYI, Birmingham family members, whoever can find where I put it, gets a brand new pair of festive socks!  Happy hunting:)  

After that, the girls had a Christmas party to attend, so the boys, ages 10, 7, 5, and 5, cleaned our entire house as an Advent Blessing project.  No, it wasn't their idea, but they didn't balk when it was announced as the project for the day.  

I took care of scouring the bathrooms, but they did all the trash emptying and window washing.  They vacuumed every rug and carpet and swept every floor.  They put fresh sheets on the beds, sorted and cleaned out the shoe bench, organized the coat carnage in the garage, put away all the folded laundry, and  unloaded the dishwasher.  

Then Jude and Elijah mopped every tile and wood floor in the house while Isaiah vacuumed edges and Kaiden helped sort and put away misplaced toys. 

Keira was also helping...and not helping.  She did help me put some wet clothes into the dryer. 

She also poured a bottle of Windex in a pretty blue trail through three rooms, carpeted the playroom with about 120 baby wipes, and colored her entire stomach and three toenails with a green marker.  You can argue over the usefulness of her projects, but you have to admit, that is a lot to accomplish before nap time!  So, props to Keira as well! 

And YES I WAS providing adult supervision.  That's the same thing Jamey asked me when he got home!  (She is very industrious and efficient, and I only left her for brief moments while I ran quality control  inspections for the boys.  And also I had to rescue Jude from the vacuum hose, repeatedly.  That boy should probably never drive a car, poor thing.)

So, there it is.  I am a proud and happy Momma tonight, sitting in my clean house, brogging about my blessings on my blag.  Love you guys!

How to Sprint a Marathon

We had another hearing.  The fifth or sixth "last" hearing. (I've lost count.)  We went in knowing the plan.  Bethany Christian Services would argue that because there have been no major substance abuse issues in the past year, the children should go back home ASAP.  "Sink or swim" was the term that was used.  Living situation with mom is admittedly iffy, but the children need to put down roots--somewhere.  No more of this interminable limbo.  

The children's attorney would go in and argue (yet again) for termination.  Termination because of their Mom's terminal non-compliance in everything else besides substance abuse.  "Death by a thousand cuts" was the way he put it.  Again, no more life in the waiting room. 

We were all on the same page.  The uncertainty is killing these children.  It is messing with their ability to bond, to develop trust.  I wrote a letter to the judge. 

 "We feel it is wrong to force a child to wait interminably for a parent to decide if they are important enough to work for.  Kaiden and Keira have been waiting for over two years to find out the answer to that question, and we fear they will carry the pain of that uncertainty in their hearts forever. For the preservation of Kaiden and Keira’s emotional health, and the protection of our own children’s hearts, we pray that these two will not be forced to linger in a state of prolonged uncertainty any longer. "

I testified in front of the judge and saw the clerks nodding their heads as I made each point.  The evidence was laid out cold. Inescapable.

Everyone was on the same page, at least on one point.  "This must end.  One way or the other."

So what happened?

The judge gave her another three months.  And then another month or two after that for transitioning. Bringing us to springtime, and a grand total of two and one half years of parenthood and everything that goes with it.  

All this time.  

Thousands of conversations, countless bedtimes and baths, skills learned, routines developed, prayers prayed, feelings explored, habits formed, traditions laid down, birthdays and holidays celebrated. 

A million tiny awakenings in their beautiful minds while their mother tries to figure out if they are worth the effort, and her son feels more and more rejected and her daughter forgets she ever had a different family than ours.  

And our family forgets what is feels like to function without the state peering through our windows and strangers dropping in for surveillance and "friendly interrogation". 

Three more months?  Like it is just something we drift through?  Like it isn't filled with the death of a thousand tiny dreams for privacy and peace?  And fear of reprisals for comments we have made?  And feelings of helplessness and sadness and exhaustion?  

It was a hard afternoon.  

I had a feeling at one point like I had just run a race--all out--and been told at the end that--SURPRISE! There's another one!  Starting right now! GO!

But then, like petals falling on the surface of my discontent, came remembrances of grace.  

I have teenage daughters who are bright lights in our family.  They are music and grace and patience and love.  

I have young boys who make me laugh every day and amaze me with flashes of forgiveness and their ability to return good for evil.

I have a husband who gives and gives...and then gives more, but never draws attention to the sacrifice.  In 20 years we have never run out of things to talk about.  He adores me and his girls and he is purposeful about teaching his boys how to be men.  So wise.  So good.  

I have friends who pray for me and make me laugh.  Who babysit for free and listen to me talk about my dreams and dramas and give me good advice.  And brownies (thank-you, Nichole:)

I have godly and loving parents who have carried me since I was born and still carry me to this day (albeit in different ways:)

I have my home, mountains of good books by my bed, my popcorn popper, my favorite candle, Christina's chocolate chip cookies (pretty much on demand), Rebekah's blueberry pie, cobalt blue dishes, Jude's hugs, Isaiah's smile, Elijah's valiant heart, pink running shoes, safety where I live, my wonderful church and Bible study group, Keira to play with my hair while I read, Kaiden to teach me about love and forgiveness and the depths of my own need for a Savior.  

And oh!  How grateful I am for that Savior.  Our pastor reminded us last night about what it means to have an omnipresent God.  Not one that just sends his eyes, or his mild interest from afar, or even just his list of instructions and expectations, but one who comes, as Pastor Ford put it "with His entire wardrobe of attributes" to be here with us.  

The God of the universe, fully present in power and holiness, majesty, wisdom, and love.  As real as the desk where I sit.  As close as the air I am breathing.  Always and every minute available to me. 

At this season especially, it is so good to contemplate the reality of Emmanuel--our "God with us." 

My dismay over the task before me needs to be re-framed in the reality of the Strength I have available to me.  It is a matter of setting aside what I feel and even what I see, and resting in what I know.  In what has been proved to me over and over.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

"My strength is made perfect in weakness."

"I will never leave you or forsake you."

" I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to you."

It is not something that comes as a divine diagram, or a day by day itinerary for the next month.  It comes in the needful moments--as the power to speak a word softly in an angry instant, in the ability to love someone at an unlovely time.  

I see Emmanuel in timely flashes of other-worldly wisdom, in noble gestures, in sacrifices made and made again through a power I know I do not have.  I have at times had the compulsion to speak when I didn't want to and the strength to be quiet when I wanted to cry out.  Joy in the middle of sadness.  Peace in turmoil.  When I seek it.  When it is required.

It never comes ahead of the need, when I am busy worrying and stewing.  And never after the fact, like a patch over a mistake or a band-aid on an injury.  But rather like a perfectly timed gift.  The Ever-present Present. 

How amazing it is that the promised Messiah didn't just come, show us what it meant to live in perfection, and leave us feeling all the more unable to achieve the standard.  He painted the picture, paid the price, and then provided the Paraclete to carry us through.

When I think of the coming months in a clump--well, I just can't do it.  My mind bounces off the idea.  Rejects it and everything it contains.  

Honestly, my natural self is headed for the door.  And so I will stop again and remember that I have counted myself as "dead to sin" (Romans 6:11), that I am no longer subject to the bondage of fear of what will happen (1 John 4:18) because I know that if my steps are ordered by His word (Psalm 119:133) I will not be overcome by any evil thing (Romans 12:21).  

My faith is not in my ability as a "nice person" to do good things.  Because on my own, I'm not and I won't.

My faith is completely in the promise that if I walk by the Spirit, I will not gratify the desires of my flesh. (Galatians 5:16)  

And so this is the same blog post I have written before.  To myself because I need to read it.  To my children because I hope they will one day have this struggle too and I want them to know they are not alone.  

Yes, I said I HOPE they have this struggle.  Because if they listen, someday they will hear the same call to pick up the sword and be warriors for what is right and good.  And hard.  Pushers against darkness wherever it is found.  Speakers for the voiceless.  Protectors of the weak and lost and unloved.    

And they will need to know where their strength lies.

 *****************************

"For the one who sows to his own flesh, will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life.  And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up."  Galatians 6:8-9 

"You were called to freedom, brothers!  Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love, serve one another."  Galatians 5:16