Lead Me to Your Heart

Today is morning four in Ethiopia, Sunday, and my heart has broken.

The morning after we arrived in Addis Ababa, we drove to the remote village of Wuchale, where our boys were born and where we met them at their orphanage. This trip was long—10 hours by rented blue Toyota van, roads full of hairpin turns, oxen, mules, camels, and laughing children.

Why I Won't Promote Adoption

Here we are, only a few weeks from picking up our two beautiful children Tadesse and Biruk from their orphanage in Addis Ababa. Some friends are excited to ask me all sorts of questions, but some hang back, likely afraid that I'll corner them into adopting for themselves.

But I won't. Because I'm not like that. Instead, I'm going to tell you why you shouldn't.

On Pride

I have a problem with pride. I care too much about how I appear to others, and nothing is ever quite good enough for me.

As I've blogged about many times before, perfectionism is something I struggle against often. From my career path as an English teacher and editor to my calling to be a mom, I have focused on the ideal. I strive to be organized, to have a neat house, to volunteer, and to develop and maintain good habits.

While I don't really consider myself a competitive person with others, I am always, always in competition with myself. Am I better than I was yesterday? Am I stronger, bolder, smarter, more compassionate? And while the appearance of this inner competition makes me appear motivated, the truth is that I sometimes struggle to accept myself the way I am today and love myself the way Jesus loves me.

Bucket List Lesson Number One

I've shared my bucket list with you, and you know I'm taking piano lessons. As goofy as it seems for a 40-something woman to be taking piano lessons, let me tell you that I really enjoy it—so much so that I almost called my piano teacher yesterday and asked her for an extra one because I've practiced so much this week. Yes, goofy. I warned you.

Do the Right Thing

When I was in high school in the mid and late eighties, lunchtime was rather chaotic. The whole student body would stand in the school hallway, jockeying for position at the front of the crowd as one harried teacher would call out which class was next to get into the cafeteria. Being in close proximity and being teenagers, there was your regular amount of horseplay...as well as some that crossed over the line into bullying.

One day as I stood against the lockers, I watched an underclassman become the victim of pinball, when students take turns pushing the kid back and forth to each other, and they verbally taunted him the whole time. Now, because of some circumstances in my life at that time, I happened to know more about this boy than others did. He came from a troubled home. He alone was responsible for the family finances, the shopping, and other aspects that parents should really be handling.

One of Us

If you sat down and looked your favorite teachers in the eye, they would most likely tell you that their worst year of teaching was their first and that, of all college courses, they learned the most during their student teaching.

I frequently wonder what happened to those poor students I taught in that year and a half. They were really guinea pigs who taught me a lot more than what I taught them.

My Worry Window

Last month I had the opportunity to visit one of my family's favorite vacation spots. This time, right up there on the fun-things-to-do agenda was water skiing. Taking pictures from the shore, my sister, brother-in-law, and I chatted as we watched our kids in the boat and on the skis. As my nephew fell into the water following his turn, my brother-in-law turned around and began to snicker and point. There in the window above us was my mom. As she stood there, eyebrows knit together, her worry about their safety was obvious.