Perspective...

Dance your Shoes Off...
(pic borrowed from Jason Mick)

A lot has been going on the last few weeks.  Some things that are powerful for the kingdom.  Some things that could make a person wonder how in the world God could use it for the good.  Highs and lows and everything in between. From work to home... so much going on.  But yesterday, I was a part of something that is so much bigger than myself, and at the conclusion of it, when I stood staring out at the field, it all came into perspective yet again.  I LOVE it when God does that. 

You see, I am in a job that is so beyond anything I can explain.  I love my job.  Not the paper work, the data that I feel I am always running three feet behind in, or the realization of how little education can be valued by those that are in legislation as the impact continues to come in harsh and loud, but the day to day experiences with kids that absolutely amaze my soul.  Every single day, even in the hardest of hard moments, I taste heaven in my students.  They are not what the world views as the norm and that is what I absolutely love the most about them.  I learn from them every single day and am reminded every single day that what is most difficult in this world truly will bring the most reward one day in heaven. I sit at the end of every day at my desk and I take a few minutes just to reflect on the day with those kiddos that absolutely have my heart.  On the hardest of days I find myself even more inspired than on the days when everything was easy breezy.  Those kids are in my life not as a chance encounter but because God purposefully placed us together.  I have things to learn.  They have things to teach.

And then I come home.  I have so much joy in my life. I have a husband that works far too many hours in a body that doesn't feel too well because he loves us.  I have a daughter that is larger than life and literally lights up every room she enters in with her dramatic flair and contagious love of living life as a first grader.  I have a son that just turned fourteen, that is one of the funniest kids I know, but wise spiritually far beyond his years which provides such beautiful hope in dark moments, for me as a parent.  I have a son in heaven that changes lives even in his death to this earth through a legacy of lessons that will never stop teaching until we too are HOME with Jesus.  I have a daughter that is brilliant and could aspire to be just about anything she wanted to pursue.  And I have an older son that for his whole life has made us laugh with his unintentional wit and humor.  I have parents that have been more than any daughter could hope, in-laws that have fully embraced me as I am, and a circle of friends that astound me all the time with their unconditional love and support.  I am blessed.

But the thing is, even with all of that, things are hard.  They just are.  And sometimes they get overwhelming enough that it clouds the joy a bit and the view shifts down rather than up. Sometimes, I just lose my perspective.  I see Todd's illness rather than God's healing.  I see Seth's life on hold due to the ongoing tests and unknowns, rather than God's anointing on his life.  I see .... hmmmm... well I guess my little dramatic flair's life just doesn't give me much to get down about.  But especially, I see the pain and heart ache the adoption issues my oldest two continue to dwell among in spite of the rescuing God provided into their lives.  Their start in life makes me grieve a deep grief, but I get so frustratied that they choose to hold on to that rather than embrace the reality that God rescued them!  He chose to remove them from the pain of that life and land them into a place where the whole family... not just me and Todd.. but the whole entire family (both blood and Christian) has embraced them fully and completely as our own.  The reality that they refuse to accept the embrace and find so many ways to reject all that God has, wears on my soul every single day.  EVERY single day.

And just when I am gaining my focus off the poor choices they are making and getting back to my faith in the things unseen for their lives and ours as their family, one or the other of them, increases their chaos and knock me off my feet again.  I have spent the last four years protecting them by containing the stories into a quiet circle of prayer warriors.  I have been embarrassed for them and for us.  I have felt that it was my responsibility to keep things as quiet as I can... for all of our sakes.  But over time, slowly, God prompts me in His time and His way to share more and more... for others that might need to know they are not alone.. and for me to find freedom from the grip satan wants to hold over our family in the sadness their choices can bring. 

So here I am.  I am blogging.  And I am about to be about as real as I can be.  I won't give the details that have no value or point, but I will blog tonight as authentically as I can from my broken-ness of their bondage.  Not because I want it to be the focus, but because I refuse to allow it to become my bondage as well.  This past weekend reminded me of that and today, looking into a student's daddy's eyes that loves his son so very much, I was reminded again.  I will not own that bondage... and one of the realities God has proven to me over and over is that everything that is brought into the light brings freedom.  It may not free them, because they have choices left ahead to make in their own freewill, but it will free me of the need to continue to worry of the things such as people wondering why their are so few pictures of those two comparatively.  It isn't because I don't desire pictures.  It isn't because I don't long for those memories with them.  It is because it is not my choice... it is theirs.  Why must I worry anymore about what I do not do or cause?  It is not my cross to carry.  It just simply is not my cross to carry.

The reality is, my oldest son has been going through deep bondage for several years now.  Every time I think he is breaking free, news comes and devastation sets in again that he is back at the bottom of the pit.  I believe he loves us very much and after our years of counseling, he truly sees us as his rightful family.  I believe he loves us and wants to be as he should be within our family unit. But he is in a grip that is beyond the love of family and he must be willing to surrender all before he will ever, ever break free and live the life he is meant to live.  Until that time, we will love him with all of our hearts, we will continue to believe in the future he CAN have in Christ, but we will not hide the reality that he is broken and we do not own that WITH him.  That is his alone to own and deal with in Christ.  Then he will be set free and our family will be as God intended with him. 

And then my teen daughter.  Oh goodness.  I don't know even how to explain without explaining.  The coldness in her towards each person in our family is beyond description right now.  Even more concerning is her coldness towards herself.  She has found the path of running.  We are never quite sure if she will be here when we return... every single time.   We no longer try to control the outcome, as it is evident that she is going to do what she wants to do and all we can do is trust that God is with her, even when she doesn't want us or Him to be.  The last time was just a few days back.  We had to make the difficult choice to not even look. We made yet another police report, said our prayers, and went to bed.  (I didn't say went to sleep, but went to bed.)  We told her the last time, we would look no more.  She knows that we love her.  We want her.  And we are afraid for her to go.  But we will no longer allow her to control our lives and upset our little one, because she enjoys the thrill of the run.  She is taking risks I cannot fathom, seeking attention I do not comprehend, and rejects the life God planned for her for good. 

Both of them held deep grudges against our family for a while starting in their preteen years.  Both will now profess to anyone that asks, that we are a good family that they are lucky to be a part of.  Neither of them can explain... to counselors, police officers, pastors, teachers.... why they know what they should do, but cannot do.  I can though. As complicated as it seems, God keeps my heart very clear that the answer is simple.  They are unwilling to submit... to us, but even more... to God.  They know the cross, they know the word, but have not been willing to let the cross be their bridge out of their generational bondage from the life before adoption and the choices passed down on them from their heritage into the life God purposed for them in spite of their bloodline. 

For the longest time, I held that personal.  Why wasn't I a mom they wanted?  Why, when age 9,10, 11 rolled around did it suddenly get so hard with each of them and why won't it calm down?  What am I doing wrong?  What am I not doing?  And sadly, much thought of "what must others think?"  They have had school issues, home issues, church issues, friend issues, and etc.  "What must others think?"  Even when face booking, I wonder... "do people realize how few pictures I post of them?  Do they wonder about it?  Are they too afraid to ask, but want to know?" Then the cycle begins of "What am I doing wrong? What am I not doing?" and etc.  When they pull their newest stunt, the joy of the good things are clouded and the spiral begins.  The past couple of weeks, I have been praying over things yet again, as both have made more chaos erupt yet again  to their lives, which then trickles fully into ours.  And I have been struggling. 

I truly try every day to live like Eathan.  I try to remember today is a gift and worth praising God for.  But sometimes, in all raw honesty, it is just flat hard to praise God for some things those days bring.  I don't want Todd sick anymore.  I don't want his life to be work and sleep in order to keep the infection contained.  I don't want Seth to be out of all contact sports with a lingering prognosis hanging in the balance and tests still ahead.  I don't want my sweet baby girl's innocence interrupted by the realities of rebellion from adopted teens.  And I don't want to deal with the rebellion anymore.  ANYMORE! (Yes, that would be me yelling with my fingertips!)

But then Sunday happened.  Our church has been planning for weeks, an amazing event.  Over two thousand of us gathered Sunday afternoon and we danced our shoes off... literally!  We did a dance proclaiming God's glory through our rising up screaming, "He's ALIVE! He's ALIVE inside us and we will RISE UP!" At the end of the dance, we all wore brand new tennis shoes, that we removed and left on the field as we walked off.  Star of Hope was waiting to collect them so that every person on that field... over 2000 of us... were privileged to be a part of making sure someone had the shoes they would otherwise not have.  It has been exciting all along, but I am telling you, my world shook when we stood off to the side and everyone in the area went totally silent, as we prayed for the person that would be wearing the shoes we danced off for them.  My heart stood still and I have been processing it ever since! 

My goodness! Because we all went down and danced and donated one simple pair of shoes each, over 2000 people will have the chance to have hope that otherwise they might not have had.  To us it is just a pair of shoes, but I realized as I stood there praying for my person, sometimes it IS the simple "pair of shoes" act that rescues our bleeding souls.  Something so small from me, is combined with 2000 other small offerings, that will then become something God does more with than we will know this side of heaven.  I prayed my person would put those shoes on and God would reach their soul, and wherever they are and whatever has been wrong in their life, that they will suddenly and miraculously, through those very shoes, be touched by God in such a profound way that they will never take another step walking without Him.  Just a pair of shoes... but the faith to know it is so much more.  SO MUCH MORE.

So then I looked back at my struggles.  Since last night, it has hit me over and over and over, God gives me my "simple pair of shoes" in every single struggling moment.  I just forget to see.  When my first grader says, "Mama, can we talk about Bab-a-tism?"  Its a shoes moment.  When I hear my son singing as loud as he can from his room, a song of praise straight up to heaven, thinking no audience is listening... its a shoes moment.  When I see the love of a daddy for his precious son and realize I have the privilege of watching it unfold.... its a shoes moment.  When I find  a touch of hope in the fact that my daughter seems somewhat sorry right now for the latest event... as hard as it is to believe on a deep level... it is still a shoes moment.  When I realize that somehow, my honesty in our real life pain, may encourage someone else to hold on in their own struggles... it's a shoes moment.  A text from my mom, a voicemail from a friend, laughter with my co-workers that are far more to me than co-workers...shoe moments. 

I found myself almost unable to sleep last night, wondering who would receive my shoes.  "When would they get them?  What would they look like?  How would they feel the first time they put them on?  Would it be the first time they had new shoes in a long time?  Would it be the first time they had new shoes at all?  Dear God, would they almost tingle from the touch of Christ when they slip their foot in?" It was a powerful event for me.  Not because we danced.  Not because there were so many.  But because standing their in my private moment after all the fun, I had a shoes moment with God that put my struggles back where they belong.... at the cross.

I don't know how our story will end.  I didn't know with my Tuffy in his illness.  Many asked after he passed away, how we kept from losing our faith.  We had prayed so hard for his healing through every day, every hour, every moment of those painful last 18 months of his life where he fought his illness with such valour.  So many wondered... and I think in a way almost expected... that we would stop believing.  What they didn't understand is that was the ONLY hope we had... our faith was our sustaining breath to get us through the gripping pain of losing him on earth.  Our faith is all we had to hold to as the reason we could go on.  He was with our Father in Heaven.  To turn our back on our Father because He didn't answer the way we wanted, would be to turn our back on the hope of Eathan's perfect healing that God DID grant... just as we asked.  It didn't look like we wanted at all... but still yet, it was. 

I know what I pray and what I would like for the answer to look like for our adopted children.  I tell my daughter all the time, "We adopted you.  We are just waiting on you to adopt us back now that you are old enough to make the choice."  And I realize, God is waiting on the very same thing... from them, and each and every one of us.  It isn't a matter of "do it my way."  It is a matter of "I sent my son to die for you.  I love you THAT much.  You either have to trust in that no matter what, or I will just have to wait until you do."  There is no in between.  And because of that, and the reminders like this past weekend that I DO have my simple, yet profound shoes moments all the time, I know, that I know, that I know, in HIS way and time, the story will have a beautiful ending.  For today, that is enough.  I will have to remind myself that tomorrow morning first thing I am sure, but for today, that is my shoes moment miracle... and it is enough.

I pray that whatever is your struggle you will, like me, look for your shoe moments.  If you find they aren't there, I would ask you, do you understand how much God loves you?  Do you understand the cross?  Do you understand our Father loves YOU and ME so much that He CHOSE the worst struggle of all... to watch His son suffer and die... so that we may live.  To reject that makes about as much sense as my daughter putting herself out there to be in the very places God rescued her from at 3 and 1/2 years old.  She can't explain her reason or madness anymore than you or I can if we reject the gift of the cross.  We can try.  We can make excuses.  We can even lay blame or be in denial.  But the fact is... we have a rescue and if we just grab on, our shoes moments will overwhelm us straight into pure joy... no matter what struggles remain. 

I warned on Face book it was time to blog.  Now you know... it was TIME to blog.  I am off to look at pictures of my shoes moment experience this weekend again, so that I am fueled and ready for whatever tomorrow may bring. 

I pray God blesses your shoes off the way He did mine!

Robin