My sister, Lisa, asked me during one of our bi-weekly 2 hour long-distance-catching-up-each-other marathons how the children are handling the current challenges. My answer was that there are so many what-ifs in the future -- too many what ifs -- some of them that would be considered negative, some that would be considered positive, and all of them consisting of loss of one kind or another that the children are just being children and letting the grown-ups handle the grown up things.
That's not to say they aren't stressed out feeding on the stress of the household. Yesterday, one of them hauled off and slapped another one with no provocation. Rare. In our home, thankfully, we almost never have physical outbursts of any kind. People don't even pinch when they play. That's a big deal. So, I know they are feeling the stress.
But, mostly, they are catching butterflies.
Samuel brings me moths, flies, and butterflies every day. His fingers are the fastest and his eyes are the most sharp.
Gabriella brings me songs. She writes them in her head and sings them out loud. Most of the lyrics are in Getchuan. It's her very own made-up language and takes its tone from what Chinese she's heard. Her songs are lovely and hopeful.
Daelynn has filled her calendar with more things than I can keep track of. She is working 30 hours a week, conditioning 2-3 hours a day with her volleyball team, reading, playing and making up games to keep Samuel & Gabriella occupied that include lava and skill challenges.
Bethany is also filling up every moment. She is working nearly full-time and working out with Casey Ho (blogilates...check it out) every day, keeping up with her HS choir, and visiting with friends as often as they can squeeze it into there schedules.
Chrissee's jet lag turned into a relapse of her Epstein-Barr. She is worn out and weary trying to get fact journals, research papers, and what not all in place to receive credit for her summer adventure across the pond. She is back to work and has been taking the little ones to the lake as often as she can.
Me? I'm crazy pants. Just don't look at me right now. See all the pretty children? Ooo! Shiney! (That'll keep your eyes averted from this mess.) Though, perhaps it shouldn't.
All right, all right. I'm not really "crazy" per say. There is a lot going on. Losing your home and facing the looming possibility of homelessness is a big deal. I've done all I can do and all my health will allow me to do and discovered that it won't work. I cannot do this alone. We need a miracle. And, more intensely than anything else, I have heard Him whisper the command, "BE STILL and KNOW that I AM GOD." This is not an easy thing to do for me. I have, in the past month, thrown myself at the mercy of everyone I know. I have told our family's story. I have made others aware. I even posted a .pdf of my resume on Facebook in a public post after sending it in an email to friends because I was frightened at the urgency of the words "accelerating the foreclosure process" in a letter to my husband and mother regarding the mortgage that is now 4 months behind. I have grasped at straws, submitted applications for other work hoping it would increase my salary in time. I have looked for housing, run the numbers in the budget, etc. I have prayed in my closet, at my bedside, and at the temple.
This morning, as I was pleading with God for His help, I realized that I buzz around like a bee because I am trying to deserve the miracle I am asking for. The little girl who was unworthy of her father's presence has carried that unworthiness still. I feel hopeless and lonely and angry and scared, but I find myself turning to the Lord more quickly in my life asking for peace, knowing I'll find it.
I may have to physically stop myself from frantically running about screaming "homelessness!!" as if it were "FIRE!!!" I will have to take some deep breaths, find a comforting hymn, and allow myself to SEE the hand of God in my life. Being still is hard to do when you're trying to make a miracle happen and you don't know how to trust God to BE GOD.
But, if a skipper butterfly can break out of its cocoon and trust that nourishment is in a certain direction (well beyond their ability to see) and find their wings pinched between the pointer finger and thumb of my curious, but well-intentioned son and NOT pass out and die from fright, I can face this challenge too.
That's not to say they aren't stressed out feeding on the stress of the household. Yesterday, one of them hauled off and slapped another one with no provocation. Rare. In our home, thankfully, we almost never have physical outbursts of any kind. People don't even pinch when they play. That's a big deal. So, I know they are feeling the stress.
But, mostly, they are catching butterflies.
Samuel brings me moths, flies, and butterflies every day. His fingers are the fastest and his eyes are the most sharp.
Gabriella brings me songs. She writes them in her head and sings them out loud. Most of the lyrics are in Getchuan. It's her very own made-up language and takes its tone from what Chinese she's heard. Her songs are lovely and hopeful.
Daelynn has filled her calendar with more things than I can keep track of. She is working 30 hours a week, conditioning 2-3 hours a day with her volleyball team, reading, playing and making up games to keep Samuel & Gabriella occupied that include lava and skill challenges.
Bethany is also filling up every moment. She is working nearly full-time and working out with Casey Ho (blogilates...check it out) every day, keeping up with her HS choir, and visiting with friends as often as they can squeeze it into there schedules.
Chrissee's jet lag turned into a relapse of her Epstein-Barr. She is worn out and weary trying to get fact journals, research papers, and what not all in place to receive credit for her summer adventure across the pond. She is back to work and has been taking the little ones to the lake as often as she can.
Me? I'm crazy pants. Just don't look at me right now. See all the pretty children? Ooo! Shiney! (That'll keep your eyes averted from this mess.) Though, perhaps it shouldn't.
All right, all right. I'm not really "crazy" per say. There is a lot going on. Losing your home and facing the looming possibility of homelessness is a big deal. I've done all I can do and all my health will allow me to do and discovered that it won't work. I cannot do this alone. We need a miracle. And, more intensely than anything else, I have heard Him whisper the command, "BE STILL and KNOW that I AM GOD." This is not an easy thing to do for me. I have, in the past month, thrown myself at the mercy of everyone I know. I have told our family's story. I have made others aware. I even posted a .pdf of my resume on Facebook in a public post after sending it in an email to friends because I was frightened at the urgency of the words "accelerating the foreclosure process" in a letter to my husband and mother regarding the mortgage that is now 4 months behind. I have grasped at straws, submitted applications for other work hoping it would increase my salary in time. I have looked for housing, run the numbers in the budget, etc. I have prayed in my closet, at my bedside, and at the temple.
This morning, as I was pleading with God for His help, I realized that I buzz around like a bee because I am trying to deserve the miracle I am asking for. The little girl who was unworthy of her father's presence has carried that unworthiness still. I feel hopeless and lonely and angry and scared, but I find myself turning to the Lord more quickly in my life asking for peace, knowing I'll find it.
I may have to physically stop myself from frantically running about screaming "homelessness!!" as if it were "FIRE!!!" I will have to take some deep breaths, find a comforting hymn, and allow myself to SEE the hand of God in my life. Being still is hard to do when you're trying to make a miracle happen and you don't know how to trust God to BE GOD.
But, if a skipper butterfly can break out of its cocoon and trust that nourishment is in a certain direction (well beyond their ability to see) and find their wings pinched between the pointer finger and thumb of my curious, but well-intentioned son and NOT pass out and die from fright, I can face this challenge too.
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