A Few More Details about Adoption

First, if you are tired of hearing about our adoption process, stop reading this blog right now. I have a feeling that my blog will eventually morph entirely into a record of our experiences in this process.

Our caseworker (a wonderful person, by the way) recommended that we start filling our family and friends in about a few things. Here's your rundown:

Playing My Part

Last night I had a dream. I was back in my high school band during a concert and was sitting next to my friend Kristin as the band performed an energetic piece of music. Kristin and I weren't playing, though. We had a problem: no sheet music. We glanced at each other in a panic, and that's when I noticed that her trombone had two mouthpieces.

And Now an Announcement from the Blogger...

Okay, so I'm struggling. I've had a secret for some time now (okay, a couple of months), and if you know me at all, you know that I'm pretty much an open book. If something is going on with me, you and my other twenty best friends know it, too. That's why all of this has been a little difficult.

So here's the announcement: our family has applied for international adoption through Bethany Christian Services.

Of Yarn and Quarters

On my way home from a trip to Wisconsin Sunday, my gas guzzler on "E" and my mouth craving a little Diet Pepsi, I  stopped at a gas station along the I-90 interstate for a quick fill-up.

Standing in line near the counter, I glanced around at the snacks and the odds and ends for sale when my eyes fell on a small display box on the countertop. In downhill handwriting with X's over the misspellings, the box's sign read something like this:

A View from My Soapbox

Over the past few years, I have found myself amid an educational debate, one that I would rather not be involved in. In my work, I have been blessed to work with people from three main categories: those who believe strongly in homeschooling, those who support Christian education, and those who feel called to public education. I belong to a fourth group.

In many of my conversations with friends, I hear their laments that they feel judged, and I have most certainly heard these insensitive comments myself. The truth is, it's just as easy to make generalizations about public school teachers and public schools as it is about parents who choose to homeschool. Both are inappropriate and unfair.

Holding Tight

Our family just returned from a short vacation to New York City. Of course, we saw the typical tourist sites of the Statue of Liberty, the Empire State and Chrysler buildings, and Broadway. All of those impressed us, but the biggest shock to my midwestern self was the crowds. Oh, the crowds.

At a couple points during the trip, Kaylee said, "Can't we just go back to where there aren't so many people?" It took the quiet of our hotel room to allow us to regroup before our next trip out.

And on a Personal Note. . .

My desire to blog started when I noticed over and over how many of my young teenage friends (mostly those I met through TEC weekends) were posting Bible verses, praise to God, and prayer requests. Though I knew from talking with them how many of them had strong relationships with God, it was (and is) inspirational to me to read Facebook status updates about their spiritual walks.

That's when I realized that I have not been the transparent Christian that I need to be.

My Kaylee

My daughter Kaylee often tells me I'm weird. I just laugh. That's just a family trait, one that she has as well.

One of Kaylee's hobbies is to study people's reactions. In fact, many of our outings could be seen as sociological experiments. She enjoys entering stores or other public places wearing her hillbilly teeth. As part of the fun, my role is to walk 20 feet behind her so I can give her the report about the reactions she receives from people after they've passed her. Recently, she asked me to take her to the hardware store to buy an ax, duct tape, bleach, rope, and a shovel—just so she can see the clerk's response. No, I haven't done it (yet).

The Right Tools for the Job

Yesterday was a frustrating day. I enjoy learning how to do new things, but right then I was feeling inept and unequipped  for the tasks that were before me. As I dwelt on it (and my attitude began its expected downward loop), I compared it to learning a new vocabulary word when I was a kid, only to find out that the definition of the word I was looking up included three more words that I didn't comprehend.

Early this morning, I awoke to mull over yesterday's emotions and feel sorry for myself. I decided I really just need my Swiss Army knife.

My Swiss Army knife is no simple Swiss Army knife. It's a fancy one. It has a magnifying glass, scissors, Phillips screwdriver, regular screwdriver, pen, ruler, fingernail file, and a toothpick, among many others.¹ The truth is, I don't even know what half of the tools are, but at least I'm ready!

An Invitation

Today I have no metaphors for you. Today I want to offer you an invitation.

This is a picture of our new sanctuary. This sanctuary was built not only because our congregation wanted more space.  We built it so we can grow a community of believers.

When you come to our church, you won't find a lot of perfect people. In fact, you won't even find one. You'll find the broken, the healing, and the redeemed. You'll find hypocrites. You'll find saints. You'll find a group of people who know that they are going to heaven, and you'll find others who just aren't sure yet. You'll find those who seek to know more answers and those who rest in a simple assurance of salvation.