Sunday Dinner: Let the Waters Rise

It's so nice to have internet again! After a week without contact with the outside world, we returned home to have a thunderstorm that knocked out our internet for several hours. But at least I wasn't tempted to catch up online when I needed to be unpacking and catching up at home!

I shared a few weeks ago about lessons learned from the ocean (that post can be found here). This past week I had another lesson from sea as we visited the beach again.

The waves were really rough last week when we were vacationing with my extended family in South Carolina. The first day Daniel and I ventured out hand in hand. Our strategy was to get far enough from the shore where we weren't hit by the breaking waves. We'd make a few steps of progress only to be carried back by the tide. We were managing but I could tell he was getting scared.

Then one big ole wave hit us. There were a few seconds that I lost hold of Daniel's hand and his head was underwater. He surfaced with his goggles crooked screaming, "Mama, I want to go back!"

We were trying to hightail it to the shore when I turned around and saw a massive wave coming toward us. We're talking a "Perfect Storm" kind of mountain of water where you know this is going to end with water up your nose, sand in your mouth, and bathing suit around your ankles. There was no way we were going to outrun this one. I instructed him to hold his nose, go under the water, and count to ten.

I wasn't sure if he heard me. It happened so fast. I went under the water, too, and surfaced seconds later. When I came up, Daniel was fine . . . even smiling.

We ran toward the shore, making it before another wave hit. He exclaimed, "It worked! The wave didn't get me!"

I couldn't help but think how this is like life. There are times that I see the wave coming. I panic because there is no way to escape it. Then I remember that it's when I try to fight things on my own will and in my own way that the wave of trials wipes me out. But when I remember to surrender to the One who is greater than the sea, bigger than the waves of pain and hardship, then I know to hide under the protection of the Almighty.

Today's Sunday dinner of scripture is (the idea behind Sunday dinner is here):

"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me you might have peace. In the world you shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world."

John 16:33

Wow. Jesus' words in His last days on earth bring such comfort. I remember clinging to this scripture in the days following the death of our first son in the last month of my pregnancy. God blessed us with another new life a few months after and I remember telling my girls that we had been granted the gift of another pregnancy. But Ava looked up at me and asked, "Mom, what if this baby dies, too?"

I wanted so badly to tell her that this baby would be fine, but knew I couldn't make that promise. The promise I knew I could give her was that no matter the outcome, God would carry us through any future pain or grief because we had seen God's faithfulness with the loss of Luke.

This week's dessert of song is called "Let the Waters Rise" by Mikeschair. The lyrics couldn't be more perfect. I love the line "You were faithful before. You'll be faithful again. " Amen!!!

As Daniel and I sat on the shore last week recovering from our adventure with the waves, I asked him if he was afraid to go back in the ocean later. To my relief he said no. (Although he did spend some quality time on his sand castle that day.)

As I sit on the shore of my life, I don't have the fears that I once had. In Christ I have peace. In this world there will be tribulations, but I serve a Mighty God who is greater than the pain of this world!

May you feel His perfect peace this week.

More Than Lots,
Kathie

The Deep and the Shallow: Lessons from the Ocean

I haven't had a chance to share much about our trip to the beach the week before last. Few times have I been so grateful for such a sweet getaway. I was grateful because this time last year we drained our savings living in Guatemala trying to make progress on our adoption and trying to make memories with Daniel. We were two years into our adoption and just broken that we still didn't have him home.

So to have him with us--seeing him dive in the waves,



build sand castles,



search for shells and laugh with his siblings.



Well . . . it was a beautiful sight.

Some people are beach people. Some mountain people. Some country people, some city people. I think Daniel is definitely a beach person. It's like the air and water and sand renewed his spirit. And watching him renewed mine.

So grateful for my precious girls.



And my precious boys.



I occasionally write about lessons gleaned from everyday life. One about God's love for us is here. Another about trying to understand why sometimes God doesn't answer our prayers the way we want Him to is here. (Others can be found under the sidebar label "Lessons from the . . . ".)

Today, I thought I'd share some thoughts about how trials in our life are like the ocean.

There have been hard times in my life that I have felt like I was swept into the deepest part of the sea. It can be petrifying to look around and see nothing but miles of endless ocean. You don't know which way to swim, which direction might lead you to land. You stay afloat as best you can, sometimes with arms and legs paddling feverishly to keep you from drowning. Other times just lying on your back floating in surrender--trying to find rest . . . about to lose hope. One of the worst things about being in the depths of the ocean is that you don't know what is lurking beneath. Knowing at any moment you could be eaten by a shark or another predator.

There's also overwhelming loneliness. The water is eerily calm and at times dangerously cold. Hopeless thoughts begin to surface. Is there anyone who knows I'm even here? Is there anyone who is going to rescue me?

I've been in the deepest part of that ocean--with the loss of our first baby boy and then the loss of my mom (that story is here). But I know many of you have probably experienced depths of the sea that I can't imagine.

It can also be dangerous close to the shore. Even when the water is shallow enough to stand in, sometimes the waves can be overwhelming. You run to the safety of the beach as fast as you can, only to be swept by the undertow and beaten by crashing waves.

There are people on the shore oblivious to your plight. You might even be embarrassed that the ocean has yanked down your bathing suit and filled every crack and crevice with sand. You try to compose yourself so no one will know that you are hurting or in distress. You finally get your footing only to be hit by another wave.

I've been there, too. I've been hit with financial problems, adoption ordeals, friendship hurts, parenting struggles, health issues. Yes, it's shallow enough to wade through the depth of these problems, yet trials close to the shore are just as hard and often just as fatal as the ones in the middle of the ocean.

While in the deepest ocean, I had full prayer support--a lot of people sending S.O.S.'s to the Almighty Coast Guard on our behalf. But in the shallow waters I was often too prideful to let others know I was in trouble--too embarrassed to let others know I needed help. I often thought my request was unimportant in light of others who were in their own deep blue seas. Sometimes others don't understand how hard a situation can be when the pain only rises a few feet--few understand that we don't have to be in over our heads to drown.

So I guess this life lesson is twofold. One, to remember that God is with us when we feel the vastness of the sea will swallow us whole. When it seems rescue will never come and drowning is inevitable. And two, that sometimes our greatest struggles will be close to the shore. And we need not be too prideful to cry for help--to God and to the body of Christ.

It is also a reminder for me to not only try to help those deep in trial, but to also look for those who are being beaten by crashing waves in the shallow water.

I will always remember His faithfulness when the high tide washed ashore taking me to places I couldn't survive without His mercy. It is by God's grace I stand on the shore right now, celebrating His goodness.



So Grateful,
Kathie

Life's a Beach (and Pool)

Saying hi from Rosemary Beach, Florida!

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. We arrived on Saturday but haven't had internet for a couple days.

We've been enjoying every minute of Daniel's first trip to the beach. I don't have many pics to share yet because I left the thingy that connects my good camera to my computer at home, but here are a few from Olivia's pocket sized digital one.

This is Ava, Daniel, and Brady enjoying kayaking fun with cousins.

This is a quick pic before going to dinner.



And this is with a large stuffed alligator at dinner.



After two and a half years of mentally Photoshopping Daniel into our family memories, it's such a blessing to have him sharing it all with us.

My belated Sunday dinner of scripture is simply one about the sea:

"Mightier than the thunder of the great waters, mightier than the breakers of the sea-- the Lord on high is mighty."

Psalm 93:4

Few things make me realize God's greatness like the ocean. I awe it, fear it, revel in it, delight in it. Just like I awe Him, fear Him, revel in Him, and delight in Him.

I have many thoughts about the ocean that I'll share later, but one small thing I love about it is its healing power. We all came on vacation with our scraps and cuts. I have a cut on my hand that reminds me that I'm long overdue for a tetanus shot, the boys' knees look like they have been grated like a piece of cheese, and my teen's legs look like she's been shaving with a chainsaw.

On the drive down, I reminded all the injured that the salt water would heal our wounds. And, you know what, two days into our trip and you can hardly tell where are boo-boos were.

It reminds me of God's love. I know if I just immerse myself in the healing power of His grace, I find healing of wounds that I thought would always be raw and infected and bleeding. Sometimes it stings at first, but I know that is the first step toward restoration.

As I soaked in the sea playing with my kiddos, I saw healing--not only in body, but in spirit. Primarily Daniel's spirit. It's a beautiful sight to behold.

This week's dessert of song is "Ocean Wide" by The Afters.

May you celebrate God's greatness and experience His healing.

More Than Lots,

Kathie

Survivor: The Family Vacation

Whoever coined the phrase "the lazy days of summer" was obviously not a mother.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE summer. I'm enjoying every single minute and am grateful to be moving at a considerably slower pace. I can't express how wonderful it is to have Daniel home for his first summer. I'll share more about these special moments in another post. But as we look ahead at the possibilities for our family, sometimes I just have to look back at the sweet years behind us.

I don't know about the rest of you, but sometimes looking back at photos when my kids were younger is painful. I look at them in all their dimpled cuteness and wonder if I fully appreciated every single minute. And then I look at Daniel and it hits me that I've missed so much of his childhood. But instead of grieving what has passed, I must savor every moment of today. For some day, I'll certainly look at photos from this summer and wonder if I fully appreciated every single minute. I want to be absolutely certain that the answer would be yes.

It's raining here and we are cleaning up and getting started on our summer reading. I came across this piece below that I wrote years ago and it made me miss those toddler days, yet grateful for the stage in life we're in now. It isn't a real account of our family vacation--but instead a caricature of a typical family vacation. I haven't watched the show "Survivor" in years (do they still let contestants have a luxury item?) but the only prerequisite to appreciating the experience detailed below is having vacationed with young children.

I've sprinkled in a few photos of our 2006 summer beach trip. These were taken at Edisto Island Beach in South Carolina. We've taken an annual week-long trip there with my extended family for about 30 years. My girls were 9 and 6 and Brady was 18 months. Daniel was about 4 years old living in unthinkable conditions in Guatemala. How I wish I could turn back time and rescue him from that life sooner. Oh, how grateful I am that he won't miss another summer with our family.

Under the title I've added "Preschool Edition." There certainly should be a "Grade School/Teen Edition" as well. I'd love for you to share your own family vacation stories in the comments or share a link to your blog of your own summer fun.

Happy Summer,
Kathie

Survivor: The Family Vacation

(Preschool Edition)

I didn't mean to get hooked. I started watching "Survivor" because I heard they were eating things like rats and maggots and thought by comparison I'd get fewer complaints about dinner.

As I watched these contestants brave the elements and each other, I realized this Survivor game is nothing new. It's called the family vacation.

The similarities are uncanny. On the TV version, contestants (known as tribe members) eat almost nothing but rice, sleep in crude huts, and try to get along with people who often annoy them--all for the chance of winning a million dollars. On the family vacation, contestants eat fast food and fried seafood, sleep in crude rental facilities, and try to get along with people who often annoy them--all for the chance of spending what feels like a million dollars.

The latest season of "Survivor" may have ended weeks ago, but for many the adventure is just beginning. I can almost hear the tribal theme song playing as American families load their minivans. Join us for "Survivor: The Family Vacation" where the slogan "Outwit, Outplay, Outlast" has never been more appropriate.

The Contestants

Dad: Official driver/referee. Luxury item: A pair of ear plugs (not necessarily for the pool).

Mom: Official nurse/activity coordinator. Luxury item: Same book she's tried to read the last 5 vacations.

Baby: Most likely to have a diaper explosion after passing sign that reads "Last exit for 57 miles." Luxury items: One of everything sold at Babies R Us.

Two-year-old: Most likely to cause scene in restaurant. Luxury items: Thirty-two of his/her favorite dolls/animals and whatever older sibling has. In spite of limited vocabulary, is able to whine in 16 languages.

Five-year-old: Most likely to pout about above tribe member bothering him/her, restaurant scene runner-up. Luxury items: An assortment of toys marked "choking hazard ages 3 and under" and the one forgotten item that Mom and Dad will hear about all week. Able to kick back of Mom's seat till Mom threatens to strap the young tribe member to the luggage rack.

Day 1

Mom finishes marathon of washing and packing, finding pet sitters, assigning mail pick-up. The average wedding takes less preparation. Dad is loading the family vehicle--a task that requires an engineering degree and a lubricant.

The tribe will barely be out of the driveway before the two tallest members start to question choosing a destination 7 hours away. The journey will include visiting every public restroom and fast-food play facility that can be spotted from a backseat window. There will a Magna-Doodle incident that will upgrade Two-year-old to "most likely to get head injury."

Mom will offer Dad $100 for his ear plugs. He pretends not to hear over the hour-long rendition of "The Wheels on the Bus" with Baby doing back-up vocals of "Get Me Out of this @*!# Car Seat."

The tribe members arrive (4 hours later than estimated). They have just completed their first reward challenge. The reward is now they can start their vacation with fun things like unloading the van and going to the grocery store.

Mom starts looking for the port-a-crib then Dad explains there wasn't enough room to bring it and his golf clubs. Mom calmly informs that she will not put her cherub in the rental crib/death trap and Baby will have to sleep with them. Dad realizes the only action he'll be getting is with Big Bertha.

Days 2 through 7

On the TV "Survivor" things start to get interesting when the tribes merge. On the family vacation this dynamic unfolds as extended families get the wonderful idea to vacation together. The brilliance of this plan seems to fade as tribes without small children discover they're sharing a confined living space with a traveling circus.

For example, even a simple task like going to the beach/pool seems like a "Survivor" immunity challenge. The first hour is spent applying SPF 430 to naked bodies that only stop running when they hurt themselves. Then parents wrestle with greased piglets long enough to double bag them in swim diapers and swimsuits. Quick call to Poison Control to find out if ingested sunscreen is toxic. Baby due for feeding and everyone else (especially Mom) due for naps.

This tribe finally arrives at the beach/pool armed with a cooler of refreshments and armloads of aquatic accessories. Preschool Tribe will enjoy the sand and surf until someone gets knocked over by a wave, the sky opens in a thunderstorm, Baby needs a new swim diaper, or the children have lost interest and want to do something else. This usually happens in the first 15 minutes.

This same group--as soon as they've been de-sanded and de-chlorinated--will beg to return to the scene of the crime.

This challenge is repeated each day, except the day Dad plays golf. Mom will be the lone child-ranger where the highlight is a special trip to the store for headache medicine. Dad will finish his suspiciously long golf game with an emotional outburst of, "Please don't make me go back!"

Dinner is always an adventure on family vacations. There are two options: an overpriced seafood restaurant where parents take turns escorting children outside for the "Appropriate Restaurant Behavior Lesson" or cooking in a cramped kitchenette where parents take turns escorting children outside for the "Appropriate Kitchenette Behavior Lesson."

The only thing missing from this version of Survivor (other than prize money) is that no one gets voted off. Otherwise Mom would form an alliance with those who can be bribed with candy and have them eliminate her. (Don't judge until you've walked a mile in her flip-flops.)

Day 8

This is Day 1 in reverse. Except instead of the optimistic dream of a relaxing vacation ahead, there's an overgrown lawn, a pile of mail, 104 answering machine messages, and a week's worth of dirty clothes waiting for their return.

It's a bittersweet good-bye as tribe members board a vehicle that will forever carry a sticky film of snow cones, sand, and sunscreen. (They say a new car depreciates 20% when you drive it off the lot. My guess is that you lose the remaining 80% after a road trip with preschoolers.)

Some may question why this young family would even attempt a vacation if it's so much work. Well, an amazing thing happens as you drive away. You only remember the good stuff.

Little explorers searching for seashells and budding architects building sand castles.

Angels with water wings shouting, "Look at me! I can swim!"

Sweet smiles covered in ice cream,



dimpled legs chasing waves,



priceless commentary from miniature travel guides.

Special moments captured on film and in hearts.

For one week a year, life surrenders to a slower pace--no work deadlines, packed schedules, phone interruptions, endless to-do lists.



It can all wait because this time is reserved for playing,



laughing,

and feeling blessed.

"Do you think it'll be easier when the kids get older?" Dad inquires.

Mom surveys the backseat of little people deep in vacation-induced sleep. She savors this scene knowing how much they'll change by the next vacation--wishing they could forever stay like they are right now because a year of growth couldn't possibly improve on such perfection.

"Yeah, it'll probably be easier," she replies, "but I can't imagine it being more fun."

They extinguish their torches from another vacation. This Mom has spoken.