Meaning what we say

"How are you?"

"Good, how are you?"

"Good, thanks."

.........

"Did you have a good weekend?"

"Yes, I did.  How about you?"

"Yeah, it was great."

........

How many times a day do we have these conversations?  I have them countless times a day- they often occur in the hallway at work as I'm passing co-workers or other team members on the floor.  Or in emails.  And you know what?  Virtually every single time I'm having a crappy day or a nice day, the conversation looks the same.  We say we're "great" or we're "good" and the other person says the same, and we're both left with a completely surface conversation void of any meaning.  I changed it up a bit yesterday.  Each of the dozen or so times I was asked how my weekend was, I said something like, "it was great overall but I was unhappy with the weather on Saturday", and I could tell I caught some people off guard by my non-standard response. 

I've been thinking lately that it seems the phrase "I'll be praying for you", or "you're in my thoughts and prayers", or "I'll say a prayer for you" or "I'm praying for _____ (insert good weather, Japan, safe travels, a good night sleep for those of us with little ones, etc etc) has become a phrase that is often said with just as much meaning as "how are you? good, how are you?".   Sometimes I can't help but wonder, really? are you really praying for such and such or so and so?  Or is this just a phrase that we throw around?

I'm not saying this with an ounce of judgment.  It's just an observation that I have made about our society in general.  I'm sure many people who use the "p" word really mean it. 

I try to use this phrase carefully.  If I tell you I am praying for you, you can rest assured that I mean it. I will honestly put a plea before Jesus on your behalf.  If I think I may not pray for something, I won't say that I will.  It's so comforting to me to know that other brothers and sisters are praying for me, especially during trying times in my life.  I want others to take the same comfort with knowing that I am honest to goodness praying for them. 

Because prayer works.  It's not just a statement that we can throw around like other casual greetings.  I've seen it work countless times....

In so many ways during and after my parents' divorce.

During our journey with infertility and miscarriage.

During times of fear.

In my career.

In my brother's life.

In my mom's life.

And in so many other ways.

What do you think?  Has this become an occasionally empty promise? Will you join me in trying to keep it full of rich and powerful meaning? 

Friday

It's Friday, Friday...

Hallelujah, it's Friday!  It's been a long week.  It's busy at work and I found myself working 2-3 hours most evenings this week after the kids went to bed.  I am so glad it's the weekend and that the weather should be a much needed improvement over past weeks. 

I got some important work done and sent out the door (via email of course) before I left today- a great feeling.  Josh picked the kids up at Auntie Bethanie's and met me at Noodles, which has become our family's favorite restaurant.  I enjoyed a delicious glass of chardonnay with my mmmmmmmeatball duo. Wine..ah....how much I missed you last summer when I was prego. 

Since Josh and I drove separately, he stopped quickly at a store next to Noodles to see if he could use up the gift card he had.  I took the kids home.  During our drive, the song "Never Let Go" came on the radio (channel KTIS 98.5- contempoary Christian).  I started belting out the words and dancing with my arms pumping in the air.  I looked in my rearview mirror and saw Claire shaking her groove thang wih her arms in the air, and a huge smile on her face. 

Oh, no!  You never let go!  Through the calm and through the storm.

Oh, no!  You never let go!  Every high and every low.

We were at a red light and I thought the person in the car next to me surely must think I am half-crazy, but I didn't care at all. I was having a great moment worshipping and having fun with my daughter.

I looked over to see who was sitting in the car next to me.  It was a woman, probably in her late 50's/early 60's, with a fancy blouse and hair-do.  She was singing a song too.  As I looked closer, I saw she was singing the same exact lyrics as me.  Just not quite as enthusiastically. 

Continuing to sing loudly, dance, and move my arms in the air (and Claire following suit as best she can in the back seat)...

Oh, no, you never let go.  Lord, you never let go of me. 

It was a moment for me.  A two year old little girl....a 29 year old Mommy...and a 60 year old Grandma.  All worshipping God, together, in their own unique way. 

It was pretty cool.  Pretty cool indeed. 

Living with Hope

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. 
Ephesians 3:20-21

Many of you know the heart I have for the poor around the world. You may know that I have traveled to Ukraine three times and to the Dominican Republic once to meet, serve, and fellowship with our brothers and sisters. I wrote about our trip to the DR here. I firmly believe that we do not have a problem with resources in our world. We don't have a shortage of food. There is plenty. What we have is a distribution problem and I believe that it is our God-given and humbling responsibility to distribute the resources as best we can.

The global population is 6.46 billion people.

Did you know that .88 billion (14%) live on $1 or less per day?

Did you know that 2.60 billion (40%) live on $2 or less per day?

Did you know that 5.15 billion people (a whopping 80%....80%!!) live on $10 or less per day?

And did you know that the average American individual lives on $90 per day?

That is just astonishing to me. Four out of five people live on $10 or less while the average American lives on $90 per day...


In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven. 
Matthew 5:16

  

Josh and I are on the Regional Board of Directors for HOPE International.  It is a tremendous organization that is making a lasting impact on both physical AND spiritual poverty in the poorest parts of the world.   Our brothers and sisters around the globe are just like us.  They have desires to work and provide for their families.  They want to raise their children to be healthy, smart, successful, happy, and to have a better life than they did.  They have dreams to have a proper shelter, to see their children's children.  But because they were born there....and not here in America... they struggle to meet just their very basic needs.  There are few jobs.  There is no available capital to begin their own small businesses.  There are no avenues for saving so that they can save up the little income they receive in order to send their children to school next year.  In short, there is no hope for a better tomorrow.

This is where HOPE comes in.  HOPE is fully focused on sharing the truth about Jesus and salvation and that although we have trouble in this world, God has overcome the world (John 16:33)!!  How hard would it be to hear this message and fully receive it as the truth when you have an empty stomach and you don't know how you'll be able to feed your babies dinner? This is why HOPE focuses on both spiritual and physical poverty.  In short, HOPE provides small loans to individuals (88% are female; the majority are mothers or grandmothers), along with training and support, so that they can start or supplement their own businesses and earn income so that they can provide for their families. 

Instead of giving them a fish...which is consumed, leaving them in the same position the next day...  HOPE teaches them how to fish and enables them to procure a fishing pole, boat, and bait, so that they can fish over and over and over and over again...

The loans are short term (generally six months) and have an extremely high repayment rate (last year HOPE disbursed 1,350 loans in Congo worth $701,662 with a 100% repayment rate).

I am very business-minded.  With an MBA in Finance, this is of no surprise.  I view my charitable contributions much like my financial investments.  I want a good return on my investment...in both my 401(k) and with the money I donate.  For this reason, I intentionally do not provide financial contributions to many admirable organizations (such as United Way or Compassion International) because I think my money can work harder for me elsewhere.  As you can imagine, $50 goes farther in Rwande than it does in Minnesota.  And with HOPE, that $50 is multiplied over and over (some micro-finance research shows that it is multiplied 20 times). So my $50 donation becomes $1000!!!  That is a HUGE return on my investment!  The donation is multiplied because the $50 is lent to one HOPE client, repaid within six months, then lent to another HOPE client, repaid, then lent to another HOPE client...and so forth. 

Let me share a short story about a HOPE client, Angela Mercedes, in the Dominican Republic.  Her relationship with HOPE began six years ago, just months before she became a single mother to five children.  She first sought an $80 loan to sell gas to local passerby.  She repaid the loan and used her second loan to open a vegetable stand.  Today she runs a convenience store. Angela has received and repaid 12 small loans, ranging from $80 to $130.  She provides literacy training, dental care, and health care in her community.  She said, "I feel happy and content.  I have my own business. I have my children. Although I may not have much materially, I am rich."  She named her business "Fe y Esperanza en Dios"- Faith and Hope in God. 

You can make a significant and lasting change for other young parents..or grandparents...single individuals...or married women just like yourself, who by their circumstances, are struggling to survive day to day.  A small amount goes a long way.  If you'd like to learn more or make a donation, visit HOPE International at www.hopeinternational.org. 

Also, we are holding the 1st Annual Drive Out Poverty golf tournament in Minnesota on August 8th.  Consider playing in the tournament or spreading the news with your friends that golf.  Josh and I will be there!

Lord, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done wonderful things. ...
You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in their distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat.
Isaiah 25:1,4


Some information was taken from HOPE International's 2010 Annual Report.

Smarty Pants

I am going to make a conscious effort to not be one of those Mom's that brags about how smart, or athletic, or musically talented, etc, her kids are, except maybe to the doting grandparents and aunts and uncles because it can create undue competition or comparison.  God has given each and every child unique gifts and talents- not one was left out!  I do like, however, to jot down funny/interesting things my kids do or say on my blog because it's the main way I document them.  I am creating a Shutterfly photobook (with the AWESOME new scrapbooking tools! So fun!) for the entire year.  It's a combination of posts from my blog and pictures.  I am going to buy two copies and keep one in our bookshelf and pack the other away.  Eventually, both Claire and Max will have a series of books to take with them.  It's not cheap (the price right now is $191 for just one! But I'm going to wait to print it until they're offering 40% off, minimally) but in the end, I think it will be just as cost effective, if not more, and way more fun than printing photos and placing them in photobooks. 

Anyways.... so this is a post about funny or smart things Claire has said recently. 

She can count to 10.  Before she would say, "1....2...3....4...9!", but now she can say all 10 numbers, and in the right order!  She is also fluent in her ABCs.

Last Sunday night we drove home for the cabin.  After being in the car for over two hours, which surely feels like an eternity to a 26 month old, we passed Burnsville Center and Claire said, while pointing, "That's Noodles right there!". 

Yesterday afternoon we were playing outside. Claire pointed to an airplane in the sky and said, "That's Mommy's right there!".  Over a week ago, Omi told Claire that Mommy was coming home from work on an airplane (the day I flew home from NYC).

Claire talks to Max a lot. It's ridiculously cute to me.  The following are phrases I've heard Claire say within the past few days to Max.  And they are always said in the right context! I wonder how much she thinks he can comprehend?
"Max, Nana coming!  Nana coming, Max!"
"Max, you wanna plant the garden?"
"Max, we gonna go to Target!"
"You want some wa-wa (water), Max?"
"Oh, CUTE shorts, Max!"

This morning Josh said to Claire, "Honey, can you get me a diaper for Max?  They're on the kitchen table".  Claire looked at him thoughtfully and replied, "No, I can't reach it".  A very normal and logical dialogue, but one that is fascinating to have with a 26 month old, who not long ago only said one word at a time.  It's also amazing to me how gramatically correct her sentences often are. 

When I was young, I struggled with proper pronounciation for a long, long time.  We're talking speech therapy from age four until 13.  For many of those years the only remaining letter I could not consistenly pronounce was "r".  To this day, I still have to concentrate on occasion if I'm saying a word that has both w's and r's in it.  I am thankful that Claire is not demonstrating any issues whatsoever with her speech.  She speaks very clearly and can pronounce each letter correctly.  Thank you, God!

Max at 7 Months Old

He's more than halfway to 8 months and I'm just now doing his 7 month update!  It's been a busy month with a trip to the cabin (Memorial weekend) and then a trip to NYC for work (leaving on the weekend) and then another trip to the cabin the following weekend, and several conference calls with folks in China in the evenings.  We're home this weekend and I have tomorrow off, so I hope to be able to catch up around my house.  It'll be a busy one though.  Saturday morning we have a playdate with our Mom and Baby friends at a local park/splash-pad.  That evening we're having the Dockens and Parks over for a BBQ.  Sunday Josh is golfing with my family while my mom, Aunt Marcia, and I do some landscaping and watch the kids, and then a whole slew of people are coming over for a BBQ at our house.  Hopefully the weather cooperates!

Anyways.... our little Max at 7 months:

In the middle of the action and loving it.

• sleeps much better.  He goes down between 7:15-7:30PM and gets up for the day between 6:00-6:30AM.  During those 11 hours, he is up around 4-6 times.  Usually only 2-3 times occur while we are sleeping too.  The only thing we do is put his pacifier in his mouth, and change his diaper once.  It's HUGE progress but I have to say I'm looking forward someday to sleeping straight through the night and "sleeping in" until 7AM!  He naps three times a day and goes down wonderfully- puts up no fight at all! 
• loves to watch Brody and Claire and wants to be right in the middle of the action with them.  
• scoots backwards on his tummy
• eats two solid meals per day.  He's had baby oatmeal, bananas, and home-made pureed sweet potatoes and peas so far.  Loves it all!  
• likes water and can even drink pretty well from an adult cup. 
• wears size 4 diapers (officially in the same size as Claire) and size 9 month or 6-12 month clothing.
• is still a total mommy's boy. 
• hardly drools at all. He never went through a drool stage- weird?  Maybe he'll start drooling when his teeth begin coming in.  
• loves to lay on the rug on the bathroom floor (we call it his "activation pad") and bounce in his jumperoo.  

Just for fun, here is Claire's 7 month update.  She was crawling!  I am sort of glad Max isn't crawling yet because I'm not ready for him to grow up! 

Claire graduates from gymnastics!

Claire graduated from her second semester of gymnastics at The Lit.tle Gym. She has improved so dramatically since she began last September.  She was so shy when she first started and now she runs around like she owns the place.  She still is obedient and stays on the red mat during the appropriate times, though she is sometimes tempted to explore before the official exploring time has begun.  

Mr. Aaron had a conflict so her teacher from the first semester, Miss Laura, facilitated the graduation.  We like Miss Laura!  

We are proud of our little gymnast and also happy to take the summer off.  She'll miss her weekly class but we'll have fun grilling dinner and hanging outside!  

Putting away the bells

Doing a somersault on the balance beam with Miss Laura

Climbing onto the podium all by herself after her name was called

Shell shocked by the many faces staring at her

Max!  Look at my certificate!

Gender Confinement

Have you heard the story about the Canadian couple that is raising their four month old as genderless?  They are not revealing the gender of their youngest of three children, not even to the grandparents.

You can read the story here.

Baby Storm.... boy? or girl? 

But the email sent recently by Kathy Witterick and David Stocker of Toronto, Canada to announce the birth of their baby, Storm, was missing one important piece of information. "We've decided not to share Storm's sex for now--a tribute to freedom and choice in place of limitation, a stand up to what the world could become in Storm's lifetime (a more progressive place? ...)," it said.


There's nothing ambiguous about the baby's genitals. But as Stocker puts it: "If you really want to get to know someone, you don't ask what's between their legs."


Yeah, it's ridiculous.  I fully believe in not limiting our children by enforcing gender roles, but I think hiding this baby's gender is extreme.  I believe that boys can be in dance, art, theater.  Little boys can wear pink, purple, high heels, clip-on earrings, whatever.  I encourage Claire to play with trucks, get dirty, wear blue, black, green, throw a football.  But a boy is a boy and a girl is a girl, right?

Tonight I made a quick trip to Target to buy groceries for our weekend at the cabin.  Max needed a cotton sleepsack, as his fleece one is too warm.  I found cotton sleepsacks in blue in size small, but realized it wouldn't fit him much longer.  The only one they had in medium was pink with white dots.  To be honest, I sat there for a moment considering if I should buy the small one that wouldn't fit him much longer but was in blue or the one that was a more sensible purchase as it would last all summer, but was in a 'girl' color, pink.  A moment later, I realized that I was being ridiculous and that Max will look GREAT in the pink sleepsack, so that's what I purchased.  As a culture, gender roles and rules (boys wear blue, girls wear pink) are so strongly ingrained in us.  I am no exception. But I hope that as my children age and I continue to learn how to be a parent, I won't find myself putting up unnecessary and suppressing gender limitations.  With that said, you won't find me concealing my children's gender.

A little help from the guy upstairs

I traveled to New York City Sunday morning for work.  It was a good trip and maybe I'll share more details in a subsequent post.  I thought my plane left at 11:30AM this morning.  Last night at dinner I asked a gentleman with us, who is from New York, what time I should leave in order to catch an 11:30 flight at La Guardia and he advised 9:30AM.  I bumped that up thirty minutes, considering how much I hate to be rushed at the airport and that I had 90 ounces of breastmilk to be examined, and I left my hotel promptly at 9:00AM. 

While I was sitting in the taxi and stuck in traffic, I started questioning the fact that my flight home left at the same exact time as my flight out there.  So I reviewed the flight details on my phone again and realized that my plane left at 10:10, not 11:30!!!  Insert panic.  I texted Josh and emailed my mom and asked them both to begin praying that I would make my flight. I spent the rest of the taxi ride praying for short security lines, a quick examination of my breastmilk, a nearby gate, and most importantly, that I would make my flight.  It wouldn't have been the end of the world to miss it but I didn't feel like spending the day in La Guardia and was very anxious to get home to my babies. 

I arrived at the airport at 9:40 and ran from the taxi without getting my receipt (hopefully Target won't need it for expense reimbursement).  When I did the self check-in, it wouldn't let me check a bag because it was too close to departure.   I had too many bags, though, to carry onto the flight. I had my suitcase, my pump, my purse, and a rather large bag with my laptop and two coolers full of frozen milk.  A Delta employee came over and asked if  needed any help.  I explained that my flight was leaving in less than 30 minutes and had already started boarding and that I couldn't check a bag but had too many to carry on....  He suggested trying to 'hide' a bag behind my back from the security and the attendant at the gate but didn't think it was likely they'd let me through.  Then he brought me to security where there was a massive line.  The kind man brought me straight to the front of the line and told the woman checking tickets and IDs, "I have a late one".  She gave me the side-eye and asked him, "Did you make her late or is she just late?".   "I made her late".  I almost wanted to kiss him.  She let me through (and didn't mention my extra luggage!) and then he brought me to the front of the line for the conveyor.  I apologized to all of the shoeless folks I just cut it front of and piled my stuff onto the line. 

After I walked through, I waited for them to stop the conveyor, ask whose bag this is, and examine my milk.  I have been on, probably, 8-10 business trips while carrying breastmilk, as I traveled frequently in my last position when I was nursing Claire. As is their protocol, they examine my milk every time, without fail.  This usually requires running the bag or bottle past a little light and rubbing it with a cotton swab (I have always wondered how this test works).  After each bottle or bag is tested, they run the entire cooler back through the conveyor line.  It can take 5-10 minutes when I have only 20-40 ounces on me, and today I had over 90 ounces.  So I was shocked when my cooler made it through the line without stopping!!  (And I quickly questioned why they didn't follow their process but that thought was fleeting). 

I put my shoes back on, shoved my laptop into my bag, and took off running for the gate.  I realized again just how out of shape I am.  I made it to the gate and the attendant gave me a disapproving look, but didn't say a word when I lugged my four bags along with me down to the plan.

My seat was in row 30, all the way towards the back of the plane.  As I walked to my seat, I saw overhead bin after overhead bin that were packed full with luggage.  When I reached row 30, I kid you not, I found one sole open space in the overhead bin directly above my seat. 

After I shoved my suitcase into the last open spot, I sat in my seat and could barely contain the tears of gratitude for having just barely made my flight.  I fully believe that God answered my, Josh's, and my mom's prayers. 

No, it certainly wasn't a life or death situation and I obviously would have survived just fine had I missed my flight. But I wanted to get home to spend the beautiful afternoon with my children whom I missed so dearly, and everything happened in just the right way to make it possible.

Thanks, God.  You're pretty cool.

Rest in Peace, Little Warrior

What is it about personal tragedies that inescapably draw me near them?  Virtually all of the blogs I follow from people I do not know personally are written by women who have experienced a hardship that I can only imagine.  Why?  All of these bloggers I follow are also admirable women of faith, who admittedly survive each day only by the grace of God.  They take their personal tragedy and use it for God’s glory.  They inspire me, they challenge me, they show me the power of prayer and how we can rise again from the ashes.

I stumbled upon this blog early last week.  It is written by a woman who has a toddler and triplet infant boys.  Whoa.   For that reason alone I’d be inclined to read her blog so I can maintain my perspective.  She, however, has a more important story to tell.  On May 21st she found one of her infant sons, Owen, unresponsive in his crib.  She gave him CPR herself.  In the following days, I was glued to her blog, captivated by the horrific experiences she was enduring and more so by the relentless hope she was placing in her Savior.  She wrote this the day after the ordeal began when his future was still unknown:

Do not be afraid.  Mommy is here.

Lord, I’m afraid.  My heart flutters a little.  Be with my Owen.  Rub his back, pat his diaper butt like I did.  He really liked his nook when he was upset so make sure he has one.  His bed is full of stuffed animals.  Let him snuggle with whichever he wants.  Hoochy chooch his thighs and give me 27183 kisses from both Doug and I.  Be with him.  Don’t let my Owen feel fear or pain.

Reading those words brings tears to my eyes.  I do the same diaper butt pat, thigh hoochy chooch, kiss smothering, nook inserting every day with my Max.  What if I suddenly couldn't love on my precious baby any longer?  What if I had to instead pass him into the arms of Jesus, long before I should have to? 

She writes with staggering eloquence and I imagine this is partially why an enormous following has been created.  Her courage is something I aspire to contain. 

After being pronounced brain dead, Owen was taken from life support while his heart was still beating.  I can only imagine my son, who happens to be the same exact age as Owen, being wheeled away while his heart beat strongly within his chest.  They needed to keep him alive because he was providing organ donation.  His tiny heart, lungs, kidneys, and liver were compassionately donated to three individuals in need. 

If you feel drawn, I encourage you to read this blog.  It is easier for me to shield my eyes and pretend that life is full of puppies, rainbows, and happy endings.  Life is indeed full of rainbows, but they only show after a storm.

Pray for this dear family.  I believe that God can, and does, make good out of these tragic circumstances.  May that good be hundreds, even thousands, of people that are brought nearer to Jesus through this poor woman who is experiencing more sorrow than I pray I ever find myself enduring.