To the Mothers I Long to Meet

I have never looked into your eyes but we both have stared into the same deep brown eyes. I have never shaken your hand or given you a hug, but we both have had the same little hand wrapped around our finger and the same little brown arms wrapped around our necks.  So there's a part of me that knows you because I know a mother's love.  I know you are out there somewhere wondering if he is ok, wondering if she is safe, and well and loved.

This letter is for you.  My dear sweet sisters, mothers of my two African babies, whom you gave me the privilege to love.

Happy Mother's Day!  You are loved.  You are so, so loved.  Your babies are incredible.  They are so full of life, laughter, and joy.  His smile is contagious, his laugh is infectious, and his questions are endless.  Her strength is incredible, her joy uncontainable, and her beauty incomparable.

They are safe

They are well.

They are loved.

They are incredibly smart.  They are funny each in there own way.  And they miss you.  They ask me about you.  He asks me if he can meet you.  She asks me if you have long hair.  He asks me if he can go back to Ethiopia to find you.  She asks me whose belly she grew in.

And I want you to know what I tell them.

"Isaiah and Letisia, you are so special God gave you two mommies.  You grew in one's belly and you grew in the other one's heart.  We both love you so much.  We both did and continue to do what we believe is best for you.  We both have held you and kissed your sweet faces. 

I know my son, you wonder where your birth mother is and how you can find her.  I know my sweet daughter you want to know if your mother's hair is long or if you have her big brown eyes.  I wish I could give you both all the answers.  So until that day comes we will pray.  We will pray one day you will see her face to face, and tell her thank you.  Thank you for loving you so much she chose to sacrifice her heart for your good and your future.  We will pray one day you can wrap her up in a hug as you tell her how much you love her and how you've missed her every day."  

So on this Mother's Day I want you both to know how I hold you near to my heart.  You gave me two of the most precious gifts and I want to say thank you.  I want to rejoice with you and weep with you.  I want to tell you you're loved and you are brave.  I don't keep you a secret.  I tell them you're out there somewhere, thinking about them.  I tell them you are beautiful, strong and courageous.  I tell them God needed us both.  He needed you to carry them and bring them forth into the world and He needed me to raise them and keep them safe.  To teach them about Him.

And then one day we both have to let them go.  I know your time with them was cut way too short but it is not less important because without you I wouldn't be looking at them right now.  And one day I will let them go too.  I will watch them spread their wings and fly.  I will think about you on that day too, because I know you would be so proud.  But for now I will pray.  I will ask Him to bless you and keep you, to let His light shine upon you and be gracious to you.  And I will continue to ask Him to let me one day see you face to face, whether it's on this earth or in heaven.  Because you my dear friend are one of God's greatest treasures.

I love you.

P.S. We picked these for you.

What If....

As the days go, and this quarantine stretches on with no end in site, I find myself becoming more angry.  I haven't been angry the whole time.  It actually has just been the last few weeks that the anger began to arise.  But I didn't start this quarantine angry.  I actually started this journey scared.

Let me explain.

Maybe some of you can also identify with the same roller coaster of emotions I have felt the past few weeks.  At first I was scared.  Scared about what was coming.  Scared about getting the virus and giving it to someone I love.  Scared that despite our efforts many would be lost.  And then the fear slowly subsided and was followed by sadness.  I was sad about all the activities we were missing and trips getting cancelled.  Sad about the family get togethers we were missing and time spent with friends.  But thankfully the sadness didn't last long either and was soon replaced with excitement.  Because when has my calendar ever looked like this?  How many times have I said, if only I had more time.  And now WAHLA, an entire month with nothing to do.  I was excited for all our extra time, family game nights, and movie nights snuggled on the couch.  I was excited to play outside and actually plant a garden this year.  For a couple weeks this was bliss and a true gift from the Father.  But then my emotions began to change again.  The joy and excitement turned to irritation.  I was irritated with the social distancing and annoyed with all the constant media coverage about COVID-19.  And then one day, it turned from irritation to anger when I realized how many people die in our world every day and no one ever talks about them.  In fact very few people know they are even there and even less go to any great lengths to help them.

I was not angry that I can't see my friends or I can't go to church.  I was not angry that my children's baseball and softball seasons got cancelled.  I wasn't angry that we can't go to parks or have play dates with friends.  I wasn't angry that I can't go to the funeral of a family friend.  I wasn't angry for all the seniors who are missing prom and spring sports and possibly their graduations.  I wasn't angry that I can't visit friends, neighbors and family that have welcomed their new babies into the world and I can't bring them a home cooked meal.

Do all these things make me sad?

Yes, of course.

Are all of these disappointments?

Yes.

But they are not the source of my anger.

Why?

Because I know in the end there will be more Sundays to go to church, there will be more baseball and softball seasons.  There will be a time when I can celebrate birthdays, weddings, and bring food to my friends.  I know one day I will be able to mourn with family in person over our loved ones we have lost.  And right now I simply search for creative ways to tell people congratulations or to give my condolences.  But as the days go by and this growing anger inside of me billows, I am beginning to see it is not an unhealthy anger needing repentance.

No.

Instead, it is a righteous anger that needs to be a voice for those who have been forgotten and overlooked by the world.

Who am I talking about?

Just keep reading.

Everything filling our headlines, talk shows, social media feeds, and radio spots are filled with the devastating numbers of the dreadful COVID-19.  According to the Center for Disease Control (CDC), as of today, April 10, 2020, there has been a total of 427,460 confirmed cases in the United States resulting in 14,696 deaths.  Globally, according to the World Health Organization, as of today, there have been 1,733,758 total confirmed cases and 62,784 resulting deaths.  I'm not sure when these statistics began being recorded but let's just assume for arguments sake it was November of 2019, assuming this is six months worth of data.  If that were the case that would mean, globally 10,464 people have died each month from COVID-19.  If this pandemic continues at the same rate for an entire year that would be 125,568 people in one year dying from this awful disease.  I agree, that's a lot of people.  And if one of those 125,568 people happened to be your mom, dad, grandma, grandpa, husband, co-worker, neighbor or friend, I'm so sorry for your loss.

But can I share some other statistics with you?  The ones fueling this billowing anger within me.  The ones that keep me up at night.  The ones that make me weep.

The numbers you are about to see have been going on far longer than November.  They happen year after year.  And the most heartbreaking thing about these numbers is that they are preventable.

Every year around the globe 9 million people die from starvation and hunger related diseases.

9 million.  Just let that settle for a minute.

Just in case you don't have a calculator close by that means if COVID-19 continued at the same intensity as it is right now for the whole year resulting in the 125,568 deaths we calculated above we would have to endure those deaths for 71 consecutive years to equal the 9 million people that die from starvation EVERY year! 

Does that make you shudder?

What about this one?

Did you know at the end of 2018 there were 70.8 million refugees, according to the UNHCR, the UN  Refugee Agency.  Refugees.  Meaning people, men, women and children, who were and probably still are displaced from their homes.  And now many of those refugees are jobless, homeless, hungry, tired, sick and probably hopeless.

70.8 million.

What about modern day slavery?

A news article from the USA Today published in 2017 reported, "A United Nations agency warns 40.3 million people across the globe were subject to some form of modern slavery in 2016.  Among them, about 28.7 million - or 71% - were women or girls forced into sex, marriage or labor."

40.3 million.

And I am sure there are so many more issues I am not even thinking of.

But when is the last time you did anything to help one of these millions of people who die or suffer every day in our world?  Because they will continue to die unless we act.

The anger I have been feeling lately is not because I think the measures we have taken for COVID-19 are ridiculous or overreacting.  No not at all.  I think they are necessary and important to help prevent as many deaths as possible.  Who knows how many would have died if we had done nothing.  But my anger comes from seeing what our country is capable of.  Yes you heard me right.  I'm angry at how amazing our world and especially my own country has responded to this pandemic.

It's amazing to see what happens when we all work together for a common cause.  From the highest official to the youngest child I have seen people give to one another through every possible avenue.  I have been amazed at the creativity and ingenuity of people all over the world.  I have seen selfless gifts of love to those who are isolated and alone.  I have seen the educational community take learning online and still manage to shower their students with love and care from afar.  I have seen so many people using their talents, big and small, to provide essential equipment for those brave souls on the front lines of this pandemic.  I have seen groups of people working together that normally disagree.  It truly is amazing.

So are you confused?  Are you wondering why I'm angry?  Why am I angry and amazed at the same time?

It's because I see what we are capable of.  And it reveals how selfish we truly are, me included.

Selfish?  But I thought you just said you have seen people being kind, helpful and selfLESS?

I did and I still do.

I say that we are selfish because all of these wonderful things, creative ideas and selfless gifts have come only at a time when we personally are facing our own mortality in the face.  It's coming because now death is knocking on our door.  So what have we done?  We have pulled out all the stops.  We have halted every day life.  We have cancelled events and closed doors.  We have hid ourselves away and poured every available resource we own into this pandemic because we know it could be us next.

Do I blame anyone for doing these things?  No. I have tried my best to "do my part" and stay home and away from others.  And as any mother or caregiver knows staying cooped up in a house with six children for days on end with no where to go, no friends to play with, or parks to burn off energy, (and then it rains), is no easy feat.

But what I fear and what makes me angry is that when this is all over, we will return to life as normal and forget that we have anything to give to the others in desperate need.  They may not be in need of medical attention or ventilators but they are in need of food and water.  Food and water.  Or shelter or safety.  All things we have an abundance of.

When death is no longer knocking at our doorstep we will go back to our busy schedules and all our excess and forget about the 9 million people that still die every year, on our watch?

We don't have to.

What if we continued to use our gifts, talents and resources; however big or small, and give it to others instead of keeping it for ourselves?

What if we used the money we saved in gas this month because we had no where to go and sponsored a child somewhere in the world so that he or she could eat this month?

What if we used the money we saved from going out to eat and we gave to an organization giving food, shelter and medical aid to refugees around the world?

What if we used the money we saved from cancelled sporting events, concerts, and vacations and gave it to those on the front lines of sex slavery helping free young women from bondage?

What if we used our creativity and talents to find real solutions to hunger, slavery, and the refugee crisis?

What if?

What could we do if we all worked together?

And don't take the easy road out and tell me ways our government can change this or that.  Or that we can't help because of this policy or that.  Or that foreign affairs are too complicated.  And don't you dare tell me that other people can make a larger dent in world hunger because they have more money.  Yes, can some people give a million dollars to help world hunger while others can only give five? Of course.  But that's not the point.  The point is what can YOU give?  What do YOU have?

What have you done over the last month to stop COVID-19 or flatten the curve?

And then ask the question why?  Why have you helped?

Is it because you know someone personally involved in the fight?  Is it because you're afraid of dying yourself?  Is it because you're afraid of someone you love dying and you can't be with them as they breathe their last?

Those are real fears and those are real people.  Some that I have had myself.

But why do we only act when it affects us personally?

Right now there is a mother somewhere in the world, mixing dirt and water together to make mud pies just so she can feed something to her children and try her best to curb the intense hunger pains that keep them up at night.  Can you imagine?  Just for a minute stop and imagine it.  Put yourself in her shoes and imagine feeding mud pies to your children because you have nothing else.

Or can you imagine facing the decision whether to give your child away to a stranger or watch them die of hunger?  I know it's hard to imagine because these realities are not ones we face on an every day basis.  But what if they were?  What would we do?  What intense efforts would we employ to lower the death rate and flatten the curve?  Or would we stay silent because we don't know their names?

I pray COVID-19 ends and no one else dies.  But if I'm being honest, I'm praying this awakens us to our world and the people suffering in it.  And I'm praying that we all realize why they need us.  Because whether you are Christian, Muslim, Jew, Bhuddist, Hindu, athethist or anything else, we all have resources, gifts and talents we can give so that no one in our world has to die from lack of food or water.  So that no one else is displaced from their home with nowhere to go.  So that no one is still trapped in slavery of any kind.

And maybe you want to help but you didn't know how. There are many organizations with boots on the ground in many of these arenas.  I wanted to give you a small list to start.  These are the ones our family personally supports monthly.  I know there are hundreds and probably thousands more and I would love to hear about them.  I hope you start searching.  Find the organizations and causes that stir your heart and share them with others.  And then do your part, give what you have.  Let's continue working together and changing the world around us one person at a time.  I would love to hear about the organizations you give to and the ones you are going to start giving to after reading this.

Justice Rising -- Transform war zones through education
Preemptive Love -- Working together to unmake violence and Serving Refugees
A21 -- Abolish Slavery Everywhere, Forever
Lifesong for Orphans  -- Bringing Joy and Purpose to Orphans
Ordinary Hero  -- Empower Ordinary People to change the life of a child in need
Frontier Missions -- Fulfilling the Great Commission
Compassion International  -- Sponsor a Child in Need
Imani Milele -- Meeting the needs of orphaned and vulnerable children in Uganda

And if you are a Christian, like me, these words Jesus spoke in Matthew 25:41-46 are a little more sobering if we do nothing for the least of these in our world today.

"Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.  For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me. 

They also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or 

needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?

He will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, 

you did not do for me.'

Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life."

Where is Your Treasure?

My kids love a good treasure hunt.  As a kid I did too and quite frankly I still do.  A couple years ago I surprised my parents for their birthdays by taking them and some of their friends to an Escape Room.  Escape Rooms are basically adult versions of treasure hunts.  We didn't escape from the room but it was crazy fun.  We went back a few months later to try a different room.  We are currently 0-2 on the Escape Room game. 

I would venture to say a large majority of people, if given a treasure map, a real treasure map and told there was real treasure at the end, would take the map and start searching.  Some people would even search without knowing for sure if they would indeed find treasure at the end.  Why?  Why do we love the idea of finding what's been hidden or lost?  Why do we desire to be the first to discover something?

Just a few nights ago our family was discussing the Titanic around the dinner table.  One of our children loves to read and learn all about the Titanic.  She is constantly bringing home books from the library about the sinking of the mighty ship.  As the conversation this night was coming to a close our son Brooks said, "When I grow up I'm going to search for that sunken ship."  To which we all told him, "Brooks they already found the Titanic."  His response, "Oh man!  I was going to do that."  Then our Titanic loving, adventure seeking daughter said, "I know, I wish I could have discovered it too."

I believe we love treasure hunts because the joy is in the hunt.  There is joy and excitement in the searching.  Even when you get to the end of the hunt and find the treasure, isn't there a part of you that is sad the hunt is over?  If you've ever read a good mystery book or watched a movie with a mystery to solve, you know what I mean.  We are glad when the mystery is solved, when our curiosity is satisfied but it also leaves us wanting another story, another mystery to solve.  Why?

Because that's how we were created. "It is the glory of God to conceal a matter, But the glory of kings is to search out a matter." - Proverbs 25:2

Lately the Lord has been asking me this question, "Where is your treasure?"

Since Heath and I have been married we have wanted to do ministry together.  The first few years of our marriage we wanted to move somewhere else, anywhere else but where we were.  Then we had our first child, started serving in our local church, adopted another child, and became missionaries to an inner city neighbor in our own town.  Over the next few years, we moved (more times than I like to count) had two more kids, adopted another. Then we moved again, remodeled a house, and surprise, another baby! 

This whole time I had out my map, checking off destinations and making checklists of what to do at the next stop.  But the whole time I had my sights set on my treasure.  We wanted to be missionaries in Africa.  We wanted to serve the Lord on the foreign mission field.  I know many people might look at our life, the decisions we've made with our family, such as, how many times we moved, Heath's job and they might think we are unsettled. That we can't make up our mind what we want to do in life.  That couldn't be farther from the truth. Because the truth is each move, each job change, each decision was made with one goal in mind, to answer the call from the Lord, to serve Him in Africa.

Now the time is drawing near.  We have applied with a mission sending agency to serve in Africa and I can see the dream unfolding before my eyes but I hear the whisper in my ear saying, "Where is your treasure?"

This whole time I have been searching and working for the treasure He placed in my heart, but I haven't been looking to see the treasures He has placed all around me now.  In every season He has shown me a new part of His being and developed something new in me.  He held my feet to the ground when I wanted to fly because He needed to teach me the importance of obedience.  He allowed me to trip and fall into temptation because He needed to crush my stubborn pride.  He moved me away from everything familiar because He needed to show me He was all I needed.

And so He asks me again, "Daughter, where is your treasure?"

I have been guilty so many times of focusing so much on the future and the destination that I neglect all the beauty of the process. What I have started to discover is the treasure is in the process.  The character He develops in me when He's preparing me, stretching me, and refining me is pure gold.  It's treasure that can never be destroyed.  Because He is my treasure.  In every season, in every challenge, in every dream He has shown me true treasure.  Sometimes I missed it but I don't want to miss any more.

"God's training is for now, not later.  His purpose is for this very minute, not for sometime in the future.  We have nothing to do with what will follow our obedience, and we are wrong to concern ourselves with it.  What people call preparation, God sees as the goal itself."  -Oswald Chambers 

The goal I have been working towards for most of my adult life is within reach, the treasure almost in my very hands and I realize I was wrong. The treasure is both.  It's here now and its ahead.  The Lord has been filling up my treasure chest with precious jewels this whole time.  He has given me a husband to share my crazy dreams with.  He allowed me to bring forth life into this world through my womb, not once but four times.  He asked me to love and parent two children who didn't come from my womb but another's. When I think back throughout my whole life, every relationship, every opportunity, every mistake and hardship, I see Him in it all.  I see the joy, the divine and the honor He has bestowed on me time and time again.  I see the treasure He has placed in my very hands.

"If we realize that moment-by-moment obedience is the goal, then each moment as it comes is precious."  - Oswald Chambers

And yet there is still treasure left to be found, to be searched for. 

Whether our family ever has the title of missionary or not, we will not stop hunting for treasure.  We will take time to enjoy and thank Him for the treasures already in our hands.  But our hearts burn to find more.  To find the ones who need the hope of the Gospel.  To find the ones who need to hear about the God who created them and loves them still.  To find the orphans and the widows who need to know they aren't forgotten.  We are going to Africa because He has given us great treasure in that place.  He has brought children and dear friends and He is calling us still to go searching.  Because we know, "where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."  -Matthew 6:21

In February the whole Wilson tribe is headed across the Atlantic to the beautiful country of Uganda!  Yes, we are taking all six children.  Are we a little crazy?  Maybe. But crazy works for us.  This is the first mission trip for the whole family and we are busy counting.  Counting down the days and counting up the costs!  One number is significantly larger than the other, I'll let you guess which one.  So we have designed a shirt to help our family get to Africa.  We hope you will buy one, not only to help us get to Uganda but also as a reminder.  We pray each time you wear this shirt, it will remind you to search for the treasures the Lord has given to you already and the ones He wants you to go searching for. 

Click here to buy your Treasure Tee  and get us one step closer to Africa!

All our love-

The Wilson Tribe

Just a Little Longer

It's been a long time since my last post.  Eight months in fact.  My absence wasn't due to a lack of words or stories.  In my house the stories are never ending, especially on parenting and how I need Jesus every day, well every second really.  Daily I  pray for patience and self-control.  Thankfully I did today, so I was calm, cool and collected when my nose led me to a burning smell in my kitchen and I walked in to see charred pieces of paper lying on the counter.  Mr. Justice has recently learned how to "cook" a grilled cheese but tends to get in a hurry and doesn't always pay attention to what he may sling onto the stove as he tosses ingredients haphazardly onto the counter.  He totally kept his cool and just looked at me and said, "Don't worry mom.  I blew it out."  Great!  Lord help me!

No, it definitely wasn't a shortage of stories. My absence was because the Lord has been dealing with me and humbling me yet again.  Back in March I wrote a post titled Dash of Crazy.  The whole point of that post was to share a new adventure the Lord was leading us on.  We had signed up to host a child from China in our home for one month and advocate for him to be adopted.  We had our homestudy done and submitted.  We prepared our home to welcome William to the Wilson's.  Everything fell into place and it seemed the Lord allowed it all to happen in just the right time. 

But I need to hit pause on that part of the story and fill you in on one little detail.

Up to this point in time, every blog post I had written was getting an average of 500 hits and one time it hit 1000.  I know this is a small number compared to the big time bloggers but for me this was a big deal and I was a little excited.  I couldn't believe people actually wanted to read what I wrote.  Well when I wrote Dash of Crazy the number quickly went past 1000 and soon doubled to over 2000 hits!  I checked it so many times the day I published it and the days following because I wanted to see if it had gotten any higher.  I was so excited to write another blog post because I thought to myself, "It can only go up from here." (as I silently patted myself on the back) 

I'm sure the Lord was shaking His head as he watched me write that next post because He could see right into my heart.  Yes, the words were genuine but the motive was wrong.  I had forsaken my first love, I was writing not for Him but for the reward and honor of man.  The next post, only had 200 hits.  Talk about eating humble pie.

I know no one else saw those numbers and no one else saw the pride welling up inside of me when I was watching those numbers rise and soaking up every compliment, but the Lord saw and He hates pride.  Little did I know but that post was only the beginning of this humbling season.  About a month later we received word that William's trip was going to be cut short and now he would only be allowed to stay for two weeks.  A week after that we learned the children wouldn't be coming at all.  We still tried to advocate for him but it was official, William wasn't coming. 

"Why Lord? Did we hear you wrong?"

No answer.

Over the course of the next six months similar things continued to happen.  We would see a door beginning to open towards the calling we know the Lord has given to us and each door was slammed in our face.  Every avenue of ministry we tried to pursue we were met with a polite response telling us  we weren't really needed or not the right fit.  After a few of these occurrences you begin to ask yourself some questions. What is wrong with us?  We want to serve.  Why does no one want us?  We love Jesus.  We want to spread the Gospel to the ends of the earth.  We want to be missionaries.  We want to be in Africa. 

"Why God are you holding us back?"

No Answer.

So I didn't write.  Instead the Lord has been drawing me back to the secret place.  He's been whispering to my heart in the early hours of the morning when I just sit with Him.  And slowly He has been showing me why the last eight months He has been taking me on this journey.  A journey of feeling insignificant, mundane and unseen.  A journey of humility, because the Lord disciplines those he loves.  No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful.  Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. (Hebrews 12:6 & 11) 

He's been reminding me how He weighs the motives of my heart.  If my heart seeks the reward and honor of men then that is all the reward I will receive.  But whatever I do whether in word or in deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus (Colossians 3:16) and He who sees what is done in secret will reward you openly. (Matthew 6:6) 

Do I still love your comments? Do I still love to see all the hits on my blog?  Yes!  They encourage my heart more than you know, but at the end of the day I want HIS reward!  I want to lift my hands with a pure heart.  I want to offer every gift He has given me as a sacrifice of thanksgiving.  Because the Word is clear.  All the things we do on this Earth, whether good or evil will be judged.  Not only what we do, but the motives behind them.  I want to build my life and ministry on the foundation of Jesus "because the Day will bring it to light.  It will be revealed with fire, and the fire will test the quality of each man's work... If what he has built survives, he will receive his reward." 
(1 Corinthians 3:13-14)

The only way my heart and my motives can be pure is when I spend time with Him.  When I spend more time with Him than with the opinions of the world.  When I allow Him to have access to every part of my heart and I don't rush in and out of the secret place, just to check it off my to do list.  He loves it when I just sit with Him, with no agenda and no rush. 

I have been falling in love with Jesus all over again.  He is whispering to my heart, you are not insignificant or mundane.  You are mine and I'm jealous for you.  Yes I created and called you to do amazing things in my Name but don't ever trade those things for this, for sitting at my feet and loving on Me.

Just stay a little longer.





P.S.  This is one of my favorite songs and I pray as you listen to the words it draws you to meet Him in the secret place today.  He loves you and He wants to be with you.......just you. 

Say Yes

Last week I cried my eyes out in a movie theater while I watched Lion.  I love it when movies draw you in and make you feel the characters emotions like you are living what they are living.  This movie did just that.  You felt the fear, the desperation, the hope, the uncertainty, the sadness, the loneliness of a five year old boy lost on the streets of Calcutta, India thousands of miles from his home.  The point in the movie where I totally lost it was when the adoptive parents came onto the scene.  I knew it was coming because I had seen the trailer.  Of course I connected with the excited feelings of the adoptive parents waiting to meet their son for the first time.  It brought me back to both of our first time meetings with our adopted children and all the feelings of joy and anticipation that had been building for years at the thought of finally holding them.

But as I watched the scene unfold on the big screen this time I was seeing it through the eyes of the child.  I watched the adoptive parents' smiling faces but felt the uncertainty in the little five year old boy who had lost everything he had ever known.  I felt the struggle within him to move on with life or hold onto the hope of finding his family again. I wanted to tell the adoptive parents to stop smiling.  I wanted to tell them what happened so they could take him back to his mother.  I was heartbroken because it was a reminder once again that adoption always starts from pain.  But I've already talked about that here and by the end of the movie I was reminded of God's sovereign hand in the whole story and was humbled by the beauty and redemption of adoption.   

What the Lord impressed upon my heart from that movie and from recent conversations with friends is about risk.  I will try not to spoil the end of the movie but when the little five year old boy becomes a man he is faced with the choice. Should he risk the life he has trying to find his birth family or live a life of regret if he didn't try and forever wonder, "What if?"

I've never been much of a risk taker.  Honestly I have envied people who were.  They seemed so fun, so free and I always seemed to be the one who couldn't let go of reason and rules enough to be spontaneous and fun.

I specifically remember a birthday sleepover when I was in fourth or fifth grade.  I walked with a group of giggly girls to the birthday friend's house.  She lived near a park so we decided to go outside to play before it got dark.  It had been raining the whole day but the sun had finally come out.  Those April rains had left some mighty big puddles in the ditches and on the baseball field.  A couple of the girls decided to start running through the puddles.  Well before long every girl in the group, except for me, was sliding, running, and belly gliding through the gigantic puddle. Their hair and clothes were covered in mud and they were soaking wet.  I ran through it a couple times after I had taken my shoes off and rolled up my pants but I remember the urge inside me to slide on my belly right through that puddle.  However, that urge was overtaken with thoughts of; I could get sick if I got wet when its this chilly outside or will my clothes come clean if I get them that muddy?  So I stood by and watched my friends have a blast and wishing I could too.

Recently I was talking with a friend and trying to encourage her to take a risk.  Now the risk I was encouraging her to take involved her heart, a little more delicate and important than my pair of muddy pants.  But as vastly different as the commodities are, the choices are still the same; risk or regret.

When you look at stories in the Bible, especially the New Testament when Jesus called his disciples.  They had a choice when He said, "Come follow me."  It was risky to leave their families and the jobs they had done all their lives.  They could have said no.  I've often wondered if he called others who said no and its just not recorded.  How many did he call before He got twelve to say yes?  I'm no scholar or theologian but any human could dare to wager that if He did ask other men who had said no, that a year or two later when Jesus rolled back into your town with those twelve men and a whole mass of others healing every sick person and casting out demons there wouldn't be a hint of regret in that man.

I have gotten to be a little more of a risk taker since the long ago mud puddle in the park because I realized I would rather risk and fail then live with regret.  Because if I risk something and fail I can still learn from those mistakes.  From regret I learn nothing.  The feeling of regret stings much longer than falling after I've taken a risk.  Because following Jesus is all about risk.  It's about trusting in Someone you can't see or touch.  It's believing in eternal life in a city we can not imagine with our human understanding.  It's stepping out in faith when all earthly wisdom would tell you not to.  Jesus is risky.  His kingdom is upside-down.  But I would rather get out of the boat to walk on water and sink a thousand times than to be the other guys sitting in the boat clinging to the side and regretting I didn't jump up and say, "Jesus, if it's you then tell me to come!"  I want to hear the Lord say, "Come," and my feet hit the water.

Has the Lord told you to come?  Have you given Him your list of reasons why you can't?  I encourage you, take a risk today.  Even a small one.  Because if He has told you to come, then He is going to be right there if you start to sink and He will also be right there to see you walk on water, to do something you never could in your own ability or strength.  Don't sit clinging to the boat because He won't wait forever.  He is building a kingdom and He needs people to do His work.  If we say no, He will find someone who will say yes.

Dash of Crazy

You know those amazing, soft, delicious rolls your great grandma always made for every holiday and family get together?  I crave them often.  Once upon a time I thought, well I should just get the recipe and make them myself.  Well I don't have a clue what two cakes of yeast are and lard was no where to be found in my cabinet.  And how much exactly is a dash?

Unfortunately I have yet to replicate those delicious rolls but my overall skills in the kitchen have much improved since I first learned to cook.  Back in my momma's kitchen I know she had her doubts when I frequently confused salt for sugar and couldn't quite master how to put an egg in a recipe without including half the shell.  Twenty years later I can somehow manage to feed my family of 7 on a regular basis and not shower my kitchen in flour when we bake chocolate chip cookies.

Now that I introduced every member of my family I wanted to give everyone an inside glance into every day life at the Wilson house.  Don't be fooled.... this is not our everyday reality.

Most days I wear sweatpants, t-shirts and glasses.  Since Christmas I now awake to a dog barking at six a.m.  The second my feet hit the floor an alarm goes off in my youngest child's brain that says, "Wake up, mommy is out range."  As I try to have some kind of quiet time with the Lord, the others trickle down the stairs making their requests for breakfast known.  If the waffles, milk, or cereal are out of stock, there will be moaning, whining and multiple pleas for me to go to the store immediately.

Mostly my days consist of dishes, school, laundry, cooking, playing referee, and cleaning; all with a baby attached to my hip.  I answer questions like, "Mommy do you have any cardboard?" "Can I play the Wii?" "Can I have a snack?" "Do we have to do school today?"  "Mommy, have you seen my _______(typically its the object I've told them to put away when they are done)?  Some of these questions get asked multiple times a day.  Some days I get to shower and Kentucky Boy finally got a door on our master bathroom so at least I can have fewer spectators when I use the restroom.     

We have many people tell us they don't know how we do it.  Or they will say, "Wow, your hands are full."  Yes our hands our full but they are full of good things.  I didn't plan to have five children under eight but I'm glad the Lord did.  When they fight and bicker yes I question His judgement but then He will give me days and moments when they spend all day working together on a project completely derived from their imaginations.

People ask me all the time, "Well, are you done?"  I know they expect me to say YES!  But I can't.  I know how many more children there are in the world who don't have a family.  However, I also know I cannot adopt all 153 million of them.  So He has shown us another way to help.

A few weeks ago I got this email from an adoption agency.  The email was asking for families to host children from China for one month.  I get emails like this all the time and usually I say a quick prayer for the children and delete the email.  Well I just couldn't get this email out of my mind.  There was one boy in particular that the Lord highlighted to me.  It was something about his smile and the joy he seemed to carry.  

I was unfamiliar with the hosting programs some agencies provide, so I finally decided to inquire about it.  I always thought you had to adopt the child you hosted but that is not the case every time.  Yes the ideal goal is for the families who host the children, to become their forever family but agencies also welcome families to host the children and then advocate for the child they host.  We do not feel like we can add another child permanently to our family right now but we can open our home for four weeks.  We can love a child and show him what a family is and we can be a voice for him to find his family!

After a family discussion and prayer, we said, "Yes, Lord.  That is something we can do."  

For four weeks this spring our family will grow one more.  Coming all the way from China, meet William......

We are so excited to have this sweet boy in our home and to introduce him to all of you.  But we need your help.  We are praying for God to connect all the dots, to help find William a family.  Will you help us spread the word?  Will you help us be his voice?  He needs you!

We have created a Facebook Page called Families are Forever where we will post things about William while he is with us.  Go like our page at https://www.facebook.com/familiesare4ever/ and share it with anyone you know who has been praying for a son. 

Yes we are a little crazy.  I think any family with five or more kids has to be a little crazy.  But I'd rather be a little crazy than normal.  Because at the end of the day we found a recipe for family that works for us.

5 cups of Jesus

2 cups of love

1 cup of forgiveness

1 cup of laughter

2 TBSP of perseverance

1 TBSP of humility

1 tsp of teamwork

Lots of hugs and kisses and 

a Dash of Crazy 

The Choice

My children have invented a new game at the dinner table.  It consists of dividing the table into geographical locations and then they choose their seats based on what place they would like to eat their dinner.  Tonight two of my children were in “sunny Georgia”, the other two were at “a beach in Florida” and Little Joy and I were told we were in “a mudhole in Iowa.”  

I just had to laugh because for those of you who have seen my car the past two weeks that is the hard core truth.  For the rest of you lucky folks who don’t know what I’m talking about I will give you a little clarity, because a picture is worth a thousand words.

No need to blur out my license plate for identity protection, already done.  Believe it or not my van actually got worse after this picture was taken.  Today there was no red visible; it looked like I drove a brown van.  My headlights did not shine brightly because of the extra layers of mud caked on them.  I’ve never been so excited to wake up to freezing temperatures a few days ago just so I wouldn’t have to drive in mud!  On a side note, my poor van finally got a bath!  It’s the little things in life isn’t it?

The past few days I’ve been thinking about all the times I’ve felt stuck in a mud hole.  I would dare to say I am probably not alone in those kinds of thoughts.  Whether you’re a mom stuck in the mundane routine of diapers and counting the hours until bedtime or living the single life wondering if you will ever be a mom.  Or maybe you’re a business man struggling with finding purpose in climbing the corporate ladder or a man on a ladder, wondering if there is anything more to life than working paycheck to paycheck.  No matter who we are, all of us have had different moments or seasons in our life where we just feel stuck. 

I hate how negative thinking always has a downward spiral affect.  Those thoughts of how mundane and boring my life is lead to thoughts questioning my life’s purpose, wondering if I’m doing enough for my family, my friends, my neighbors, my church, and the Kingdom of God.  They even lead to more selfish thoughts sometimes like why do I not have enough money to travel the world or take my whole family on a cruise. 

What’s the deal?  Do I need a new hobby, a healthier diet, a better workout routine (or maybe just a workout routine period? Ha!), a new book, a different job?  The list could go on and on.  The real question becomes, when most of us live a life that lacks for nothing, “Where is our joy?”

As I was praying about what the Lord wanted me to write next He reminded me of a few times in my life where I felt stuck and was asking myself that very question.  But He highlighted one particular time.

This story I'm about to share with you comes from a time period in my life when I was not a mother, I didn’t have a house to clean or dinner to cook.  I wasn’t even married.  It’s funny how we always think our feelings will change when our circumstances do.  But more often than not, the answer we’re looking for will never be found in a change of our circumstances.

When I was eighteen I started dating a guy I am going to call, Mr. Farmer.  I had had a crush on Mr. Farmer since I was a giggly, junior high girl, with braces who was frequently compared to looking like Olive Oil from Popeye, due to my string bean physic with absolute NO curves.   Mr. Farmer happened to be the big brother to one of my very good friends and our families were also friends.  So when he finally asked me out I thought I was the luckiest girl in the whole world.  We dated through my freshman year of college and I was certain he was the one.  I loved him.  I loved his family.  My family loved him.  Everything was  perfect.

Then at the end of my freshman year of college, Mr. Farmer’s family walked through tragedy.  A few years before Farmer’s dad had became a quadriplegic in a car accident and had gone from full time farmer to sitting in a wheelchair.   Then one day in May as our college classes were ending for the summer, he had another accident in his wheelchair that cut off his air supply for too long and put him in a coma.  I was at the hospital with their family during that week he was on life support.  I still remember everything about it.  I vividly remember the day the family had to make the heart wrenching decision to take him off life support.  I remember what I was wearing and the room and the people who were there and the prayers.  I remember standing outside that hospital room watching Mr. Farmer, along with my good friend, their other siblings and their mother hold each other as they said good bye to their husband and father.

Something changed in me in that moment.  Death and tragedy always leave a mark.  For me, in that moment, I think the Lord was reminding me to set my eyes on eternity and remember my life on this earth is but a vapor.  But when I walked out of the hospital that day I was forever changed.

My freshman year of college I had spent lightly seeking the Lord and finding what my own personal relationship with Him looked like.  But I wasn’t ready to totally surrender my life to Him because I knew that would require something of me.  It would require me to surrender areas of my life I had comprised. It would require me to let go of things I wanted to hang on to. I wasn't ready to do that. 

Thankfully, the summer before I went to college I had gone on my first mission trip.  I loved it so much I had applied to be a summer intern the next year at a camp in Texas.

Three weeks after Mr. Farmer’s dad passed away I was set to leave for my eight week internship hundreds of miles from home.  

I left running. 

I felt a little like Jonah I think.  I had this little voice inside trying to speak but I thought if I just go far away from here I won’t be able to hear it anymore and I won’t have to do what I’m afraid He’s asking me to do.  I didn’t take a phone or a computer.  I didn’t want anyone to be able to get in touch with me unless it was an emergency.  Because you see I loved Mr. Farmer.  I wanted to marry him and I’m pretty confident he wanted to marry me too.  And we would have had a good life and a good marriage and a good family.  But there was one problem.  Mr. Farmer wasn’t a believer.  He had grown up in church but didn’t have a personal relationship with Jesus.  But he was such a great guy so that didn’t matter that much right?  But then why was I running?   Truthfully I didn’t know at the time.  All I knew was that I felt like I was suffocating and I just needed to breathe.

That summer the Lord was so good to me.  He surrounded me with couples and families who centered their lives and relationships upon the Lord.  Especially Carl and Pat, otherwise known as the interns' summer grandparents.  Carl and Pat were the camp cooks and loved by all.  During our summer with them they celebrated their 40^th wedding anniversary.  Their anniversary was on a Sunday, July 10th, I'll never forget it.  

The night before their anniversary, Carl had told all the interns his surprise for Pat was a wedding ceremony to renew their vows. He wanted all the girl interns to be her bridesmaids, but we had to keep it a secret.  On Sunday mornings the camp staff would have a church service, with worship and someone sharing a word, before all the campers came later in the afternoon.   The plan was to have the ceremony immediately following the staff church service.  

That Sunday morning started off the same as all the rest, after worship the person designated to share a message would get up and speak for a few minutes and then we would pray together.  But after worship, before the speaker began, Carl spoke up and asked if he could share something.  He opened his Bible and said in his sweet southern drawl, “This morning in my quiet time with the Lord He told me to share this verse with one of you interns.  I don’t know which one of you it’s for but I suspect the Lord will let you know.”  He then proceeded to read 2 Corinthians 6:14 which says, “Do not be yoked with unbelievers….”  That’s all I heard before the tears came quick and hot to my eyes, as the Lord confirmed in my heart that the message was for me. 

As much as I loved Mr. Farmer, the truth was our relationship was not founded on Jesus.  But I had been struggling against the Lord's leading.  So he hadn’t given his heart totally and completely to the Lord.  He was a great person, kind and loving, surely God would want me to marry someone like that.  Right?  But because I had been living my own life in lukewarm Christianity I didn’t see why that one fact mattered so much.  But that Sunday morning after the preaching was done and we all bowed our heads to pray, when I opened my eyes I knew why that one fact DID matter more than all the rest.  We opened our eyes to see Carl, on his knees, in front of his wife of forty years, washing her feet, and asking her to marry him for the next forty years.  I knew in that moment, neither I, or Mr. Farmer had any idea what that kind of love looked like.  The only thing I did know, was that love was what I wanted.  I wanted a marriage like the one I saw in front of me.  A love like Carl and Pat’s.  But I knew that kind of love could only come when Jesus was at the center of it all.

I cried through the entire wedding ceremony.  Most people probably thought I was crying because of how sweet the ceremony was but honestly I don’t remember a thing about the actual ceremony because the whole time my heart was in turmoil.  Immediately after it was over I ran from the chapel and into the nearest bathroom stall to try to gain some sort of composure.  I’m not sure how long I stayed in there but long enough to get my breathing back to normal and the snot to stop pouring out of my nose (yes, yes it was one of those ugly cries).  I took a deep breath before opening the door but as soon as I saw who was standing on the other side of the door I lost it all over again. 

Carl.

 

Carl was standing there with open arms ready to wrap me in the biggest grandpa bear hug.  I can still feel that hug.  And then he told me, “Paige, I lied in there when I said I didn’t know who that verse was for.”  He said, “I didn’t want to embarrass you in front of everyone but the Lord told me it was for you.”  He continued, “I’ve heard you talk about Mr. Farmer and he sounds like a great young man but he is not the one God has for you.”  I buried my head in his chest as the tears came again and I said through the sobbing, “I know.”

I spent the rest of the morning and afternoon by myself, having a conversation with God.  I went from sad to angry.  

Why God?  Why can’t you just save him and then we can get married and have a marriage like Carl and Pat’s?  Why?  I cannot break up with him Lord!  First of all, I love him Lord!  And second of all, it will crush him!  He just lost his dad Lord.  I don’t want to do anything to hurt him more.  Please Lord there has to be another way.  I can’t do it.  Why are you making me do this?  Why? Why? Why?

He only answered me back with one question, “Do you trust me?”

I didn’t want to answer.

But I had a choice.  He always gives us a choice.

Yes.

Yes, Lord. I trust You. 

And then I made a declaration.  It went something like this.

Lord, if You are really asking me to walk away from him then I’m done dating Lord.  I don’t want to do this anymore.  It hurts too much.  So if You ever want me to get married, well then you will have to put him on a silver platter and shove it right under my nose because I’m not looking.

I'm sure the Lord got a good laugh at me that day.  Especially because He knew what was coming next.  It makes me laugh now but in the moment it was not funny.  

That day I knew I had to break up with Mr. Farmer but I still had four weeks left at camp and I was not about to have that conversation through a letter or a phone call.  So I just had to wait until the summer ended.

The crazy part of this story is I met Kentucky Boy, my husband, later that same day.  The timing of it all still blows my mind.  We hardly spoke that first day besides brief introductions because I honestly I had meant what I said to God and I had no interest in dating or meeting someone else.

The first part of that week Kentucky Boy was at camp I was extremely sick and was restricted to the camp while everyone else went across the border to work.  I spent my time resting and talking with God, and dreading what I knew I had to do when I came home.   On Thursday night of that week, after chapel when everyone had free time, I quietly sneaked away from the crowd to sit on a swing on the far side of the campground, away from everyone where I could be alone with my thoughts.  After some time, I felt a tap on my shoulder.  Kentucky Boy was standing there and asked if he could join me.  I was indifferent really but as he sat down he asked me this question, “So what’s your story?”  Evidently my gloomy, heavy heart was clearly worn on my sleeve.  I’ve never been very good about masking my feelings.  For whatever reason, I decided to unload the weight of my life’s problems on this perfect stranger.  I told him all about Mr. Farmer and what had happened at Carl and Pat’s anniversary just days before and I told him how much I was dreading going back home because I knew God was asking me to break up with him but I didn’t want to. 

What I remember most about that whole night is that before we parted to go our separate ways he asked if he could pray for me.  I don’t think my mouth dropped open for real but that is exactly what I wanted to do because I couldn’t believe it. I had never had a guy pray for me besides my dad.  And if the fact that he was praying for me wasn’t enough the content of his prayer totally floored me.   He didn’t just pray for me.  He prayed for Mr. Farmer too. Even though I was starting to get the picture that he liked me at this point and wanted to ask for my number, he didn’t.  He prayed for me and Mr. Farmer and that God would show us the path He wanted for us both.

The rest of those three weeks got even crazier and would make this story way too long but maybe one day I’ll fill you in on the rest of the details.

But when I came home, at the end of the summer, my stomach was in knots for days.  I knew what I had to do, but Mr. Farmer was expecting me to be running back into his arms and moving on with life.  What he didn’t know was that I was about to break his heart and mine in the process.  I know many people misunderstood me.  Many thought, including my own brother, I came home from a summer away, had met another guy, and was moving on without a care in the world.  

Oh that was so far from the truth.  No one knew about the weeks I had wrestled with God and no one knew how God had spoke to me through Carl and Pat.  No one believed me that God had told me to break up with Mr. Farmer before I ever met Kentucky Boy.  For days I didn’t sleep well, I sat up late talking to my parents and I waited.  I wasn’t sure if I could ever get myself to do it.  I did not know how I was going to look him in the face and walk away. 

One night in August I finally got the courage.  I remember the summer breeze and I remember his blue shirt and I will never forget looking him in the eyes and saying, "I have to break up with you."   And him just asking me, “Why?”  I tried explaining but even as I was saying it I was starting to doubt.  The only thing I remember after that were the tears and my own silent prayer, begging God to take care of him, to make sure he was ok and that one day he would forgive me.

I’ve asked the Lord many times since that night why I remember it so vividly.  Especially now, after twelve years.  As I began to write down this story He gave me my answer. 

“It’s because my daughter, that’s the night I first taught you surrender.”

To surrender your heart.  To surrender your plans.  To surrender your loved ones.

You trusted me when it didn’t make sense.  You trusted when it hurt and when it hurt others.  You trusted me with your future and you trusted me with his.  You trusted even when you couldn’t see on the other side.  You trusted when others misunderstood you.  You trusted even though you didn’t know if it was going to turn out all right.  And you obeyed.

It really all comes down to obedience.  I teach my children obedience every day.  I’ve told them over and over how learning to obey is one of the most important things I can ever teach them. It’s much easier telling them about it than actually doing it. Just yesterday in fact I sat across from one of my daughters as we were discussing her latest struggle to obey.  When I asked her why she hadn't been obeying lately, her answer held so much truth.  She looked at me and said, “It’s hard to obey.”

She’s right.  It is hard.  Everyday our flesh, our thoughts, war against our spirit and we have to choose to obey.  The choice is always the same, to obey or disobey.

The Lord showed me how, so often, we think if we obey Him in the big things, the big decisions, than we are good.  But it’s the little choices, the everyday choices we make that lead us towards Him or away.  Those moments or seasons when I feel stuck, is usually because somewhere I made a choice to disobey.  I made a choice to live outside of His will.  I made a choice to complain, gossip, or idolize something more than Him.  I made a choice to hold a grudge rather than forgive, I made a choice to lose self-control in my anger, or I made a choice to watch television instead of getting into His presence.

He calls us to walk worthy of our calling.  I don’t want to just obey Him in the big things.  I want to make the hard choice everyday to obey Him in everything.  I want to obey when it's easy and I want to obey Him when it's hard.  I want to obey Him because I love Him, because He’s a good Father, who loves to bless his children.  I don’t want to miss his blessings because of my selfish pride.  His ways are always higher than ours.  His plans are always better even if they seem painful.  Sometimes He asks us to walk away from things, even things that are good, not to punish us, but only because He has something far greater waiting on the other side.

I don’t know why the Lord brought my husband into my life so quickly after I surrendered, that hot July day in Texas, when I have friends who have waited for years to see the answers to their prayers.  But I do know the Lord is a rewarder to those who diligently seek Him.  I do know that whoever loses his life for His sake and the gospel’s will save it.

Today, whether you find yourself in a “mud hole in Iowa” or at “a beach in Florida” I hope you are seeking the Lord with all you have.  Run in such a way that you will win….run straight to the goal with purpose in every step.  (1 Corinthians 9:24-26)  And if He asks you to lay things aside, even good things, do it!  Do it so you can press on towards the goal to win the prize for which God has called you heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:14)

Make the Choice.

P.S.  For those of you like me who always want to know the happy endings to the stories; about two years after I ended it with Mr. Farmer I got the answer to my prayer.   I got a call from my dad saying that Mr. Farmer had stopped by their house for a visit and to tell them that he had given his life to the Lord and he finally understood and respected me for standing up for what I believed God had told me to do.  Now he is married and has two beautiful girlies. 

And Kentucky Boy and I got married and during our wedding ceremony we washed each other’s feet, just like Carl and Pat.