When your kid lies... what to do, what to do

If you’ve never experienced that first time?

Your little one looks you straight in the eye - with chocolate peaking out of the corner of their mouth, a trail of chocolate chips in their wake - and says...
 No. I didn’t have a cookie Mommy.

Just hold on… the Lying Train is coming. It’s just a matter of time.

My friend *Genevieve and I were talking about this the other day. We were lamenting really. That First Time. Sometimes our Littles are little enough that it’s kinda cute. Then the Next Time… whoa what’s up with that? And for some of our kiddos… too many Next Times I’m afraid.

The Lying Train pulled in to our family station so many years ago, there were shovels and coal involved.

My friend’s Lying Train? Operating like a bullet train ripping through a beautiful European countryside.

I do love it when you can find someone who has gone before you, has experienced that something, a comrade-in-arms so to speak. Whether that someone has a clue what to tell you to do about it (that was me), or that friend has pearls of wisdom to throw your way.

At least you have a cheerleader and at least there is someone else to hang out with in that “Parents of Children That Lie” club.

The result of our conversation? other than confessed tears, frustration, a sense of fear (chronic liars are a thing), we put our heads together and came up with these:

5 Things To Do When Your Child Lies

1. If you lie… STOP

2. If you don’t do #1, then remember. This is not about you. This is not about your parenting.
If you won’t even Enter in the Exit door at the grocery store… you’re probably not the influence here.

3. Kids have choices.
They're mini-people, born with the ability to choose. They have their own decisions to make. They have their own consequences to learn.

When my 1st was little I had such a hard time with this one. Seeing her as her own person was a tough one. It was an emotional struggle, and she’ll tell you at times a physical one. A lot of wish-I’d-known-better and wish-I-could-have-a-do-over moments for me. But they do have choices to make. The sooner Moms (and Dads) recognize this, and accept it as truth, it will give the parent the break. And will free the child to grow ...

4. Let them Fall, Let them Fail. 
Listen to Kathy and Dr. Laura and Stop rescuing your kid!
You can Never over-love but you can over-rescue (if I could rewind the clock ...)

You have to let them endure the consequence of lying.

If that means a teacher failing them at school (gulp),
a store manager telling them they can’t shop there anymore (BIG gulp),
or maybe straight-to-the-heart-ouch! a parent not letting them play with their kid anymore (Seriously, who does that?)
Whether they should or not, whether it’s fair or not
If it’s the result of dishonesty I’m afraid we have to walk that through.

5. Hang in there.

Parenting is like the most intense whitewater rafting trip you’ll ever take.

Parenting teens? Categories 5 and 6.

Some days. Some months, dare I say years? you feel like you've been catapulted out of the raft. But you can crawl back in. You can do this.

And they do grow up.

They grow up with scrapes on their knees, maybe a broken bone or two, a few bad grades (or a lot of bad grades), broken hearts, years that are hard and hopefully years that are Amazing!

Scraped knees and broken bones?
They've played outside and run wild and free, or they've tried something hard or done something stupid.
Bones heal.

Bad grades? They’re gonna learn life takes hard work, not everything’s handed to them.

A broken heart? A most amazing opportunity to grow an empathetic heart.
To learn early on that not everyone loves them.
Not everyone likes them.
That’s okay. That’s real life.
Love them, hug them, listen to them.

The seemingly endless hard weeks or months or years? It strengthens the soul as we depend on God.

I promise.



*Names have been changed to protect the guilty

The Beautiful, yet abandoned Children of Romania: A sewer becomes a cathedral of worship

Our second visit to Romania.
This time I am pregnant with my fourth child
         Zachary is tucked safely away in my womb.
This time we are invited into a sewer
 
First the man-hole cover is lifted off
        revealing a gaping hole that leads to the unused sewer system of Bucharest
   
Then, one by one we follow them in
      Turning around and carefully crawling down the rusty old ladder
         
It hits our noses before we even enter
The fumes of the underbelly of this tired city
        stagnant and toxic
This little corner of the world houses children. Dear God!

At this point I'm very aware of the baby in my womb, of my new baby boy.
At the end of my first trimester, I situate myself as near as possible to the "door" that leads up to the bustling street above. Children should be protected and cared for.

Climbing into this home I see two of the them. Teenagers. Kids. They seem to have nothing but a few found trinkets and each other. Nestled together down the tunnel, tucked away in the dark. Far from the blast of cold December air that fills the night,
      staying close to keep warm.
      snuffing a bag of glue 

Then it starts.
The singing.
It was time for church
In the beautiful Romanian language
        I couldn't sing the words, but oh my soul knew.
Our translator told us, they're singing to a God who loves them….

None of this makes sense on the surface

We could argue and debate about God 

and the injustices of the world

Of which there are so many

So much wrong and broken

But these are the facts of that night.
This is the truth of their story.
We encountered Jesus in the sewers of Romania.

Yes - they were abandoned by parents, 

by a government, by a hurting society.

They were orphaned and alone.

But someone came and shared food and shoes;

gave the Abandoned Ones love, attention, dignity.

A simple sandwich. A clean pair of socks.

Someone came and told them Jesus loved them.

And they believed.
In the darkest of circumstances they chose to believe in a Savior
Because Jesus came to where they were.
Because when Light is turned on in darkness, Light makes sense

That's it about God
Not waiting for us to get it together.
He comes to us, to them.

When Jesus shows up in those darkest of places...
   transformation happens 
   a sewer becomes a cathedral of worship

the gospel according to Chopped

Norb's gone on a very important to our family 3-day trip.

He's gone to visit the beautiful people of Haiti.

I do know what's going to happen to his heart ...

    but I won't pretend I know right now how We will respond.

Here I sit watching

Four grandmas duking it out on the TV show Chopped
I love you Food Network

Four adorable, apron-wearing grandmas, cooking their hearts out

Four ingredients in the infamous Basket to be used for the Appetizer Round

• filet of sole
• popovers
• ginger
• bacon grease

The clock is set to 30 minutes.

They may not be moving as fast as the All-Star chefs, but they're doing their thing.
They've lived enough life to know, slow and steady wins the race.
     creating delicious-looking, home-style, Chopped-worthy food.

Then it happens... if you've ever watched the show you'll know this is a thanks-for-coming-on-the-show-but-you've-been-chopped kind of No-No.
One grandma, the one with 8 kids and 35+ grandchildren.
She forgot the popovers!
Her plate of delicious-looking grandma-style tacos, were supposed to have crumbles of crisped popovers on top and ... true to the show, that countdown clock got the best of her.

While she's lamenting and correctly assuming she'll be automatically chopped from the competition for such an erroneous mistake, the camera pans over to one of her competitors.

Her name is Mannee. A sweet grandma, born and raised in Thailand. As this competitor tells it, as a child she knew what it was like to go to bed hungry. She is a survivor of extreme poverty.
And here's where the real beauty of this episode kicks in.
Grandma Mannee is on the show so she can win the $10,000, so she can return to her beautiful home country of Thailand so she can feed the little children, because children shouldn't ever be so hungry.

Back to Grandma-who-forgot-popover, agonizing over her forgetfulness
     forgetting to, or running out of time to plate those silly popovers because of that silly time clock.

Back again to Grandma Mannee who doesn't miss a beat...
"I feel bad for her, 
but if I make mistake I'm not going to be crying.
When I see the children don't have food to eat, then I cry."

That's it, isn't it.
The Gospel ... on Chopped

Norb, he's in Haiti, right now!

Because I know him.

Because he is the man he is and he hears the heart of the Father

When he sees those children that don't have food to eat

 ... he will cry.

...and if you offer yourself to the hungry,

and satisfy the afflicted one,

then your light will shine in the darkness,

and your night will be like noonday

Isaiah 58:10 

"How does God's love abide in anyone who has the world's goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action." I John 3:17

- See more at: http://www.elca.org/News-and-events/blogs/ELCAWorldHunger/589#sthash.X2F51NZD.dpuf

The Beautiful...yet abandoned Children of Romania...Part 2

Babies, mattresses, wet diapers and sorrow

See Children of Romania...Part 1

It was the early 90's and my husband and I had traveled to Romania. We showed up one morning at an orphanage in the city of Bucharest.
Sadly, Romania is infamous for its orphanages and its orphaned children
There is history there
    there was a dictator who brutalized the country
      which led to a persecuted people and a broken society
Ultimately leading to abandoned children and babies…. many babies and many orphanages

We walked in that day to a very sterile environment.
How do you prepare for this? You don't. You walk in.
No noise or beautiful chaos like you might assume any house full of children to be
     Instead, picture an orphanage straight out of a Dicken's novel
           that's more like it
And then, if it's even possible, oh so much more sad

Cribs lining the wall
Beautiful, over-worked, overwhelmed Romanian women caring for these little ones
Eerily quiet, not because there were not babies in the cribs.
No ma'am
Those cribs were full,
     but the air was empty
So little sound, void of baby chatter
Not even a healthy cry for attention
A few slight whimpers of surrender
The creaking of a crib that is moving … moving as they rock … themselves. That universal sign of mental and emotional depravity. Learned at an impossibly young age. When others have abandoned their job to care for another, the abandoned one learns to self-soothe.

Walking through this nursery, big eyes just looked out at us. Looking like little birds that were trapped, really. Not even hopeful. What child in my world doesn't assume they will be picked up, cuddled, kissed or cared for? These ones evidently couldn't even grasp it. Because then it happened. I watched my husband Norb reach out to touch one little baby boy, because isn't that what you do?
         you reach
         you touch
         you hug
Babies need that. WE need that. In order to survive.
The only problem is when humans are not touched enough.
That sweet baby boy. He cringed. He pulled away... shaking.
Slowly, after some patience and persistence, he allowed a soothing hand to rub his back. To touch his little body.
How many were in their beds, rocking back and forth? No one there to soothe so they must soothe themselves...

Along the corridor we walked, on in to the toddler area.
Cloth diapers only got changed at assigned times each day because there weren't enough diapers, or enough hands to do the changing.
Bottle time - same amount for every child no matter the size, and definitely no more.

There behind a wall of windows was a mattress-covered floor.
The pre-walking, toddling babies in just a cloth diaper, holding a bottle, gripping it in order to get the last drop. I don't remember how many were lying on those uncovered, soiled mattresses. Definitely more than a dozen... 20? I don't remember. I do remember the smell, and the sight, because when there are babies and diapers there is always soiling and mess.  When there aren't resources or money or people to do the work, the mess stays that way.

It didn't take long for Norb to open that door to the mattress room. Down on all fours he just lay there while this "litter" of little ones crawled over him -vying for his attention. Smiles on their faces. Touching his face. Being loved with a touch and a hug and smile...while he wept
Norb wept with these little ones, for these little ones.
It was beautiful,
It was terrible
It was horrendous
and it was truly a holy moment.

I'm writing this down and I'm just not sure why I'm telling you this.
It's not like we did anything about it.
There I said it.
We cried, we mourned, we wept for the abandoned and the neglected, but at that moment, we did nothing more.
I'm sitting here crying again, mourning once more. Willing that our time spent, prayers said, touch and smile impacted little hearts and little minds in some way... If I could only wish it to be so.

I'm writing this out to try and figure out what's next. To make sure I remember and then do...something.

...to be continued

The Beautiful yet abandoned Children of Romania...Part 1

Twenty years ago today (give or take a month ... or six)
    Norb, my adorably handsome man, and I went on our very first trip to Romania.
We landed, excited, but very unprepared, in the city of Bucharest, the capital.
It was spring, the weather was mild, yet the country was …. sad

It was a very sad place twenty years ago.
It was a very sad place sixteen years ago
             with some hope sprinkled in
      when we went for the second time.

But that first visit.
Our friend Angie had moved to Bucharest, Romania a few years earlier after hearing about the children of the sewers. She was to be our guide, a friend to these sweet, abandoned, soot-covered children.
What we saw in the next few days was unlike anything we could fathom
Writing about it in this blog seems trite … words won't express it, I'm afraid
        but as I write
        and then, when I post this
I pray that the reader (and I) will be moved
                        will be awakened, if need be
          and will act - in some way - for some child - somewhere

Walking the streets of Bucharest those cool spring evenings, so many years ago
       with a backpack full of sandwiches
      and our huge video camera on our shoulder
What we were about to see, and who we were about to meet, would forever change our hearts.
That huge video camera
    (way before digital, small and indiscrete)
       attracted quite a bit of attention.
The sandwiches were obviously a big hit.
We were thrilled to be there,
    not the, there's the Disneyland sign… we're here!! kind of thrilled
    not the whew!! there's one more piece of chocolate cake left!
or the
    someone else is cooking dinner tonight elation
It's more of the
      giving food to someone who was actually hungry
              (not just someone who wanted more food)
      kind of thrilled
It was the kind of elation where your hug, your smile, your attention or your sandwich actually could have made a life or death difference that day

There was a problem though.
These were kids.

The kids weren't the problem but the fact that they were (are) children…
    seriously people,
          they shouldn't be begging for a meal
    They shouldn't be without a bed
    They should never have to say no one would know if I was alive or dead

Stepping out of that van, they came...
     they came from around every corner
     running down the street, or across the railroad tracks
     climbing out of holes in the ground
filthy dirty
often shoeless
many addicted
obviously starving -- for food and for love.

What we saw - what I saw over the few days we were there,
    my words just aren't giving it due justice.
My heart - it didn't just break - it went in to shock

Our first night out, we watched as a beautiful little boy dug through the garbage can at the train station
     right beside a food vendor.
He reaches in and finds an empty ketchup bottle.
    But not so empty that he can't put it to his mouth and squeeze the last drops out.
That food vendor yells at him… swears at him in Romanian. Would have hit him if he were a couple of inches closer
Wow! That was and continues to be so confusing
         --- to my heart and my mind.
I couldn't grasp what I saw then and I can't compute it now, 20 years later

Another cool evening.
We had visited the train station, again - crossed over to the other side of an abandoned line of train tracks.
We walked around the city of Bucharest looking for Angie's "kids" - children that adored her because she came, night after night, hugging them, caring for them, feeding them
Once again our backpack full of food
      we walked down a dark, lightless street
      so dark
      so lonely
There she was - a little girl. That's all, just one little girl.
Angie bent down to say hello, asked her in Romanian what her name was,
           how old she was
                who she was with and where she had come from.

A little girl. Alone.

She couldn't have been older than seven years old. She was small enough to be five or six. It was May. It was a very cool spring evening on the streets of Bucharest. It was after midnight!
Her little dress and little shoes... they were not enough.
I don't remember her name
I don't remember her exact age
I don't remember

The whole scenario was like watching a clip from some movie set back in an era that I just couldn't relate to - some horrific story about children being left alone in some far away place. A story that was being told so that we would be shocked while being entertained.
This was not academy award stuff
This was happening in front of me.
That sweet, darling little girl was alone,
         and I regret saying that we left her - alone.

The crazy part is, in that moment, what were we to do?
We didn't live there, in Romania.
We didn't have the option of (legally) bundling her up, bringing her home with us to California.
There wasn't a girl's home in Bucharest (yet*) to bring her home to, and sad to say the orphanages weren't always the best option (overworked and overwhelmed)
It feels so lame to say this
    I'm risking here, hoping that you won't be moved to rebuke or scold.
    Or then again, go ahead
          because maybe I deserve scolding, for not being "brave enough" to take her with me.
Anyway, I took off my socks
       my long adult-sized socks.
I put them on her little feet
       under her little shoes.
I took off my flannel shirt, my very large shirt
      put it over her little dress.
I rolled up the sleeves, those long over-sized sleeves.
Angie was talking with her the whole time.
          where do you live? are you with anyone?
I have to tell you I don't even remember much about that or much that happened afterwards.
All I know is … we walked away.
   She was abandoned by her parents.
   She was abandoned by her siblings.
   She was abandoned by a broken society.
Put on a train in another part of this beautiful but very sad country
At the end of the track she got off.
She had nobody. Nobody!!!

to be continued ...


* Response to emergencies should go faster, but frustratingly, it often takes an agonizingly amount of time. It takes money, resources, property and people. Since we first visited over 20 years ago I'm thrilled to report that Angie's kids have a place to call home. Soon after we visited, Children's Relief Network opened both boys and girls homes in Romania, caring for the abandoned children of a country broken by dictatorship many decades earlier.

Angie's Kids

30 Years Together! What?!?

A week ago, while checking in to our Bed & Breakfast

to celebrate our 30th wedding anniversary...

gasp… are you kidding me!?!

                 Married for 30 blasted years!!!

Anyway,

      the innkeeper said to me...

"Thirty years. Wow! You'll have to tell me later what your secret is."

That got me to thinking.

What is the secret to 30 years of marriage?

and how did I get this old?

~~a week later~~


I don't think it's just one thing,
or even a secret at all
 
First of all, we've worked at it -  really, really worked at it.
2. It is HARD work a lot of the time
3. It's worth it.. and you have to believe that

4. We spend time together.
5. I never let my mind imagine life without him.
6. I like that we've passed the romantic expectations.
7. I love it when we have romantic moments.

8. Honesty is so important
9. Not saying everything I'm thinking is so important.

10. Finding my self-worth in who God made me to be takes the pressure off of us.

11. I can't change him (Norb) … I have to work on me.

12. We pray together, we really do - not nearly often enough but definitely often.
13. We still date, we really do - not nearly often enough but definitely often.

14. He doesn't bring me flowers very often … oh well.
15. I don't like wearing sexy stuff to bed … oh well.

16. We hold hands.
17. I'm happy to invite him out on date… or even book the Bed & Breakfast

18. I don't tell him how to cut his hair and he doesn't tell me how to color mine.

19. Therapy for me and therapy for us … it's worth the money

20. Vacations together … it's worth the money





21. Our kids mean too much to us for us to not mean the world to each other!!

Our kids & their Mama

Sophie & her Mama

22. Laughing.

23. I purposely preserve our friendship as the number one.
24. I purposely have great friendships that I work on. I love my girlfriends!
25. He purposely loves to do guy things with his guy friends.
26. If either one of us feels ignored we make sure we talk it through, work on it.

27. Netflix, coffee & dessert!!!!!

28. Forgiving even when we haven't worked it all out
29. Kissing … almost forgot that one but I'm positive he wouldn't ;-)

30. The more I fall in love with my Creator, the more love I have for Norb.

Some of these seem silly to post because,
              well, they are so obvious.
Yet, while writing it down I realized that
    sometimes it's the most obvious things we miss.
    sometimes it's the simplest stuff,
            like giving each other a break.
            like holding on for a few days, weeks or even months
                believing this relationship storm will pass.
       Or like committing to something that you've made a commitment to.
See what I mean? Kind of obvious.

I'm almost done here … bear with me.

Work … seems to be a common theme
Most of the 30 I've posted have to do with me …
  not because marriage is single-minded
    but because only I can deal with I.
If I try to lay the heavy on him all the time then we're screwed.

Hey … now that you're done, go back and re-read #30.
Cause after all my yammering here … there you have it.
The secret to 30 that is no longer a secret!!

Norb… Here's to 30 more.  I love you!!!!

When life doesn't do what it's supposed to … what's up with that?

It doesn't always end up like you planned it.
That's the thing with life.

Months ago (or is it years already) I wrote about our Planned Parenthood fail
No, the failure wasn't that we aren't parents because we definitely are
       or the children that God gave us
They are #awesome!!!!

The Fail was in the planning part,
    the ability to even think I could have any control
        when, how many, boys or girls
Didn't end up being a failure I guess, but a perfectly orchestrated, brought-together family.

But here's to that control thing…
I have none!
I HAVE NO CONTROL!
There - I said it!

I can imagine what raising kids should be like, how smooth it should be or where the bumps should show up.
But dang it! It's just not that simple
It's hard growing up in the most "perfect" of circumstances, let alone when you've been struggling your whole life.

Believe me, I'm a realist, don't get shocked too much anymore (not sure that's great)
And I can't say this is shock or surprise here. Just an "are you kidding me?" kind of day … week … month!

I think I'm actually, slowly, step by step, surrendering control of that
But once in a while
Arghhhh!!!
Life knocks hard at you, pushes you around, gives you a "what the …?"

So I needed to rant a bit.
I think this post would have been much more juicy if I gave you the details.
Let's just say this. There have been a couple of ER visits, one car accident, a very large gathering in my home that went … should I say, sideways … fast! One drug withdrawal (mine - no I'm not addicted to anything, at least I didn't think so and if I told you what and why I was taking it you would say "what the…?" as well)

And on a serious note (that was the lightweight stuff)
    ongoing physical symptoms that are looking pretty dang scary for one of mine.

We have joined a few more "clubs" this last month, can relate to a few more people out there, have prayed consistently, struggled nonstop and surrendered over and over.

Life just isn't that simple.
And I just wish someone had told me that earlier.
That's all
Rant over
Hug a kid today, yours or someone else's
Just, make sure you hug a kid!

i love my new friends

i want you to meet Ashley, Albert, Guadalupe, and sweet Haley

         brown-eyed Angel and her big brother George

            The Boys … Xavier, Brandon and Felipe

there are dozens more, but this is good enough for now

they range in age from 5 months to 14 years old

     we love playing Play-doh together ...
                    (i make a cool snake, and an amazing snowman)

     we love to eat food …

              but, they have to show up at a park with their parents on a Sunday

                      and wait for the nice church people to give their family food 

               or they stand in line with food stamps to get their weekly rations

               or they ask the very caring social worker if it's snack time yet

          … i just go to Costco or Trader Joe's and buy all the food and snacks my heart desires 

    we love to watch Madagascar or The Incredibles together, or even a good chick flick

    we love to hang with friends

              but, they have to wait for hours in a park to get new-old clothes

                      when they'd rather hang at the mall, play in the park
                               or just be safe in a home to call their own

         …. i just text my friends and say "wanna get coffee and a gluten-free donut?"

    we all love to sleep in a warm safe place, and be loved by our parents and family 

some of my new friends have very loving parents who want the best for their kids, 

               but language or culture,
                        illness, or even the law has added to the weight of growing up

        addiction, abuse, neglect or abandonment are something they are all too familiar with

kids should not be waiting in a park all day
                      where drug addicts are sleeping off a binge
                      waiting for a fix, tweaking
                      or freaking out from a bad trip

kids should not be so scared in their own home

                so familiar with violence that they've figured out,
                     by two years old,
                where to hide, what not to say, be invisible

they should not have to be taken from their neighborhood, their school, their friends

they should not be afraid of their mom, or not even know who their mom is


BUT this is reality … today
                 in Orange County
                 in Vancouver
                 in Germany, Finland, Thailand, New Zealand, Mexico, Russia, Great Britain ...

I love my new friends!
Some of them live in a place where beautiful people care for children who cannot go back to their own homes - in order to keep them safe. These little ones (and bigger ones too) are waiting for a family to take them to a safe place to live, with their own bed, a fridge to go to to have snacks, and "parents" who bring them to school, take them on vacation, give them birthday gifts.

Some of them live with their parents, or grandparents.
They live in tenement housing or apartments.
They do have shelter and somewhere to sleep - though rarely a bed of their own.
They live with their parents, or a mom or a grandma, who struggle to have enough money for a bus ride, let alone a school uniform.
Weekly they show up at a park,
     not a "beautiful flowers, jungle gym, baseball field" kind of park,
The kind where the bruised and the wounded of the mind sleep, where the addicted, abandoned and broken of our society choose to call home, a tarp to call their bed.
These kids hang out there for hours.
It's what their weekend consists of
      hoping people will show up with meals, water bottles, pizzas, sandwiches, clothes or even shoes in their actual size.

I love my new friends.

Playing Play-doh is a start,
Giving them a hug with one arm and a sandwich with the other,
Asking them their name, and really wanting to know it,
Letting them practice their English while I practice my Spanish,
Feeding them vegetables when all they've had is fried, sugary food,
Holding them and saying good night when they are crying and don't want you to leave cause they're scared of the dark.

I guess it's something
       for me it's not quite enough...
But it's a start.

I love my new friends.


Foster Care - One Family's Story
Foster Care - Another Family's Story
CASA Court Advocate for Children
Orangewood Children's Home - Orange County

Go make some friends today.

when light shines in a dark place

Pornography
(just typing it makes me nauseous)
People don't always connect porn to forced labor or human trafficking
Entertainment for adults
      it's fine if it isn't hurting anyone
           … child abduction, sex slavery
       
What if those of us who haven't connected this
       …. did

What if a society,
      that is all about personal choice, individual rights,
actually Got it!

Global sex industry.
When you stop and think of what that is,
    what it really is,
it's astonishing that we’re not all just storming the gates of brothels, massage parlors and strip joints to rescue. But our over-sexed society we live in yells at us that
     maybe they’ve chosen this life style,
     it’s not hurting anyone,
     they’re adults - let them make up their own mind.

Okay, fine.
But have you never seen someone driving down the street, speeding just a little too fast
     you flash your lights at them to warn them that a radar gun is hiding around the corner
Have you ever poured yourself a glass of milk, only to discover it’s spoiled
     you tell your brother before he takes a drink
Or you don't
They’re able to make up their own mind
I'm not holding the radar gun
I'm not pouring the milk down their throat
Tough for them if they get a ticket, they should be driving slower.
Sorry it made you throw up … oops!

Ya, those are pretty harmless life events.
     Sour milk and speeding tickets… common events in our house

But, here's that pause again,
   what if
     …. that young woman who dances at the club,
     …. the young boy who goes to see the R rated-should-be-NC17-movie with his friends
     …. the seedy massage parlor in the strip mall filled with people who just wanted a job,
                never imagined this would be their life
  what if we stepped up.
There's risk, of course there's risk
          it’s my life, get out of my business, leave me alone, what’s your problem?

But if we don’t do something,
   it’s like we’re buying the porn magazine ourselves,
   going to the strip club with our mates - girl's night out,
   getting a really inexpensive massage,
     hiring slave labor
         hiring a little girl…

It’s like we’re saying these people are fine, no one’s being harmed.
That’s a lie!

I heard a phrase yesterday “ladyboy”
 it made my face drop,
   eyes well up with tears
     haunted my mind… confused me
Actually I’m not sure I can, or want to even process what that means.
It was explained to me that this is an issue
       little boys are raised to be ladies*
       dressed as women for prostitution with men
       to be used in the sex trade.
       sexual "enjoyment."
       adult entertainment.
               It’s my choice, it’s none of your business, leave me alone!

AHHHH!!!
What am I supposed to do with this?
Now, don't forget the vulnerable that live here in North America.
I’m just now discovering who they can be
    The parentless, the abused, the abandoned.
         Ask a social worker or a foster parent or a judge in juvenile court
                 It's a huge concern ...

And then there's this ...
    sex addicts and “johns” and pedophiles.
        porn consumers, porn producers, porn actors, porn addicts
This isn’t a one-sided atrocity. This isn’t compartmentalized sin. Sin kills, it effects, it seeps in to lives and hearts. It destroys, pummels. It tricks, deceives and mocks what is created to be beautiful.
The perversion of this phrase “ladyboy” is horrendous. It perverts perversion. It says I can create you to do and be what I want to try to satisfy some thing that will only require more. Evil never satisfies. It only destroys.
The sin slope is slippery.
No one starts out at the bottom, although we are born with a sin nature
     Grace takes care of that if we accept it…
No one starts their life wanting to degrade, brutalize another human being.
But it's happening.
It's not being talked about enough.

When light shines in a dark place
When Light shines in a dark place, it dominates, eradicates the darkness
    Darkness just can not beat out Light … that's a reality!

What am I going to do now that I know this is happening?
I do know Truth, I know Love and I can share Him.
I'll ask Him to forgive me
I will write, I will warn and I will ask God to use the Light to shine through me.
I will love and I will pray …

*Some parents in Thailand and India do this for money for their families
See little-one-caught-dancing-in-galactic-genetics by Lauren Grams

If you are a victim, in any way: trapped, confused, scared, affected by this very difficult reality, please feel free to contact me at khkohler@gmail.com. 
You are very much loved!

This is gonna be a good year because ...

I have a grandaughter (-sigh-)

Holding that sweet little one is like a spa day 
                            beach day
                                    vacation day
                   coffee and cake day all rolled in to one. 

She is sweet, delicious, soft, fragile, and precious! 
Her little knees…
    ooohhh how I love baby’s little knees 
                             and their little “laps” 
Have you ever just looked at a little one's lap? Priceless!

When she stretches, 
               arching backwards with her hands clenched tight and her face all smooshed 
I just want to kiss her face and hold her tight and drink her up.
It’s like a vitamin for the soul, 
                 the best blood pressure medicine you could ever be prescribed. 
Better than a puppy, 
   or a kitten,
   or a walk on the beach when the sun is setting and the temperature is perfect. 
Better than a ride on a motorcycle through winding country roads. 
Better than coffee, hot and steamy and perfectly brewed with freshly roasted beans. 
Better than a huge slice of chocolate cake, home-made, butter cream frosting, most and chocolatey. 
Better than the first slice of coffee bread, warm out of the oven with butter on top. 

This is gonna be a good year!!

Dreaming...

I used to dream of singing,
   not just in the rain
  or even in the shower
          ... but on a big stage,
              with a sound system that made me sound good

                             with a band,
                             with back up singers,
                             with back up dancers (j/k),

   or in a small room with an enraptured audience,                         
           on a stool with a guitar,
           at the piano, effortlessly playing
           .... singing like no one else was in that room
           .... singing for an Audience of One

I used to dream of traveling the world,
      a flight attendant, a pilot
             suitcase never quite unpacked
    traveling this vast planet, seeing the world
I would be able to speak multiple languages, fluently.
       communicate to strangers, who would soon become friends because that barrier of language would be gone

I used to dream I could play instruments,
            not just piano
                but saxophone (very groovy)
                guitar
                    no....  bass guitar (very cool)!!!!
     I would definitely be in a "chick band"

I used to dream that one day I would be a mom to dozens of kids
             rescue the children of the world who seemingly had no one to call their own
                             those who had no parents, no one to take care of them
     or I would show up at bus stations, in large cities, ready to snatch beautiful, broken young people who had run away
run from abuse or from themselves
   rescuing them from the Predator, the Bully who was waiting
I imagined being the one to find an abandoned baby, maybe left on my door step, maybe crying out in a dark alley, or stuffed in a bag, left with little more than one more breath of life yet much more love to give

Now I dream of being a writer ...
one who spends hours on my laptop creating story lines,
                                                      chapters to books,
                                               lyrics to songs,
                                         posts on a blog
        words that encourage a friend
        words that annihilate that sense of isolation that creeps at our minds saying
             "we're alone in this, nobody can relate to what I'm going through"
        words that tell stories of true life, of what has happened, what is possible
        words that give Truth
        words that offer Hope
I dream of having that time, to share what flows out of my heart and my head
         generously offered to me by my Creator
To be one of His many ways that He answers prayer, He changes hearts, He gives purpose

I haven't sung in a while, I never did conquer the bass guitar (I'm not dead yet ...)
But I have sung in the shower, in the rain, and even on that big stage,
          for my Audience of One!
I never did get my pilot's license, or serve people their drinks thousands of feet in the air
But I have traveled the world, met strangers who became friends
There are not dozens of children living in my home, I've never rescued a run away or found a baby abandoned ... but again, I'm not dead yet!

I still wish I could grab a microphone once in a while, with a bass wrapped over my shoulder, singing a song in my perfect vocal range, belting it out with the strength of a diva

But this I can do
     I can write, I will keep writing,
                                 and I will keep dreaming!

Planned Parenthood??

My family ... amazing!  

Perfect??   umm... 

     if my kids heard the word perfect they just might burst out laughing or roll their eyes or walk out of the room, shaking their head in that way that says “you’re delusional”

But I'm the mom - I know

    we are perfectly put together.

These lenses in my eyes allow me to see my kids, my family, very uniquely, perfectly formed by a perfect Creator.

My five kids 

(no we didn’t adopt again

no I didn’t get pregnant again

yes my daughter got married and now he’s ours)

 are definitely amazing!

They are God’s gift to me, to both their dad and me.

We are a perfectly formed family.

Years ago I would hear people talk about their perfectly planned family - 

        3 kids, 

        3 years apart

        star athletes, full-ride scholarships.... you get the picture.

They had it all planned out.

We can’t relate to that. Every time we tried to plan it was shifted, just a little here, a lot there.

The backward glance on my life helps me to see what I once thought as disappointments, difficult waiting times, a seemingly silent God, were actually a perfect plan in motion.

Forming our family has been an adventure, one sweet life at at time finding each other.

Just as God intended

Because 

Before the world began ... He knew us

While I was in my mother's womb, He knew me

While in their birth mothers' wombs, He knew them

While in my womb, He knew them

 He knew my sweet girl, the one who made me a mommy, 

      a woman one who has learned how to live grace and give grace like few 
      others,

 He knew my first boy, a gift of life, 

      one who was created with such purpose, definitely wanted, wired to love 
      fiercely

 He knew my second boy, a life of great worth, 
      one who is divinely appointed and chosen, who will impact his world with a story of 
      life given 
 He knew my third boy, a treasure to all who know him, 
       uniquely gifted with empathy and wisdom beyond his years 
 He knew my dear son-in-law, 
       one who is discovering a Father who has been there always,
       one who has stolen her heart and ours

amazing...

each one of them, perfect, called by name

He knew how much I would blow it as a mom 

           and yet he picked me to be their mom. 

Amazing!

He knew we, as their parents, would be asked very hard questions, a lot of “whys” at such young ages

He knew we wouldn’t always have all those answers 

           and yet he picked us to be their mom and dad. 

Amazing!!

He knew I would love them so much my heart hurt 

          but that I didn’t really understand love like He does 

          my imperfect, learning-on-the-fly, dependent on God kind of love

                                 because He is Love

and yet He planned for me to be their mom. 

Amazing!!!

He knows the answers to some very hard questions that are asked in our home. Some answers I don’t have, but I’m confident He does have.

I don’t have a clue why people are cruel

I don't know why they abandon, or others abuse, why people bully, why there is rejection

I don't know why it some times looks like He’s standing there, with arms crossed, indifferent, while life is pummeling us to the ground.

But I do know He is not indifferent
I do know that before the world was even created that He already knew me, each one of us

The truth is

He has promised to never leave me, He does not abandon

The truth is

We are given a hope and a purpose in a world that is hopeless and purposeless

The truth is
 He hears my prayers

          He answers my prayers

          He knows the story of my life before I know it

So, sometimes with faith that is so small it is hard to even see - I will choose to trust my God

I will surrender to Him my parenting abilities

           I will give Him my plans for the future

I will love my family .... my amazing, God-put-together family!!

Change

It really happened ... I'm finding it hard to believe 
(and really I shouldn't be shocked, should I?)

Lying in bed two nights ago - feeling a little
   heavy in my heart
I'm lying in bed praying for a miracle.

*** for future purposes in this blog, when I say "praying ______ " I really mean actually praying, not "wishing" "thinking" "worrying" 
cause if I'm wishing, thinking or worrying, I will let you know

Anyway, I was lying there, praying for a couple of miracles actually.....

A prayer was said, Out Loud - to the point - and extremely sincere
         with just that little bit of faith that the God whom I was praying to was listening and caring

Fast forward about 18 hours later
  sitting in a chair reading a new book (really cool new book),
     listening to some music,
        looking up and seeing one boy reading a book 
        (another really cool book),
           another one doing homework .... and it really hit me.

The miracles I had prayed for had been answered with a YES

um ... No
It wasn't the reading of a book by a boy 
   or doing the homework without any prompting by another boy
    (did we all just feel the earth shift on it's axis just a little???)

It hit me then, that when I had woken up that next morning after the 
Out Loud prayer, God had done the impossible
   He had done "my" impossible
   something I could not manipulate or control,
                     I could not coerce, convince or even threaten 
(though I've been known to try all of those endearing tactics .... 
sometimes all at once)

No ... there wasn't a newly remodeled kitchen in place of the slightly water 
    damaged one
No ... the gas tank wasn't miraculously filled with enough gasoline to 
    actually last all week

These prayers had to do with heart, and mind, and character. The really important ones... the ones that are harder to actually track, you know?

But the prayer had been specific - I had asked for specific reactions, mood shifts and even some action.

It had happened!!

Do you get it?  I kind of wish I could explain exact details of what happened 
                - I can't -

Try to imagine with me Something completely out of your will and control
Something that seems to always happen the same way,
Changed
Someone who always reacts the same way,
Changed
Someone who seems to always respond the same way
Changed!!

Not the same, not in my control, not what I expected (but yet did expect ... )

I really knew my God could do it - I really knew it.  I didn't know if I dared hope that it would happen that directly but I have gotten to a place in my thinking and heart
at least some times
"it doesn't hurt to ask."

So, just ask for tomorrow what you would never expect ...
Because what we assume is stuck, like a broken record
what we assume will happen again the next day, just like it always does

just might Change