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Meet Mary, Day 2 in Africa

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This is a weird pic to include, but the kids at our first game yesterday thought Dave's elbows were quite funny.

This is a weird pic to include, but the kids at our first game yesterday thought Dave’s elbows were quite funny.

Mary Musyoka’s name belongs in the Hebrews 11 Hall of Faith. Dave and I and the other adults on the team had a blast listening to this woman tell us how she came to start the Springs of Hope Children’s Home eight years ago in her hometown of Machakos, Kenya.

After many years of teaching Sunday School and working as a pediatric nurse,  Mary’s call from God to care for babies and children intensified when she had a dream about giving birth to and caring for twins. “But God,” she said in the dream. “My youngest child is 19 now. I’m almost done with active mothering. I can’t take twins.” Finally, after repeated urgings (in her dream), she said she would do it. The dream ended; she woke up; and she very nearly forgot about it.

We toured the Kirigiti Girls Rehabilitation School before we played its team. This is one of its classrooms.

We toured the Kirigiti Girls Rehabilitation School before we played its team. This is one of its classrooms.

Mary was already known in her community for her work with children. She taught Sunday School and helped the local police find safe places for children who were orphaned, abused, or neglected. Soon after her dream, in August of 2005, she received a phone call from the police about two babies—twins—who needed a place. Mary couldn’t find one, so she decided to take the babies to her own home. Her 19 year old watched her with the babies and said, “Mom, you’re really relaxed about the babies making messes and getting into stuff. It’s like they’re your own twins.”

The dream flooded back to Mary.

A few of our girls with girls from Kirigiti.

A few of our girls with girls from Kirigiti.

Several weeks later she had three more babies, and she began searching for a rental property that would function as a home for them. She rented a building without the money to pay the rent, and God provided.

He has ever since. “I just remind Him of His promises,” says Mary.

For several years, Mary lived at the home, but now five women care for the children, and another five clean, cook, and wash (and wash and wash—just think of all those bibs!). Currently she has 18 children aged 5 and under.

our impromptu bball game yesterday--see what I mean about height!

our impromptu bball game yesterday–see what I mean about height!

Mary has God-sized dreams. She wants Springs of Hope to own its own building, first. Then she wants a kindergarten and homes for older children so they don’t have to be sent to other institutions after they get too old for her baby-and-toddlers’ home. She wants house parents for each group of kids. She wants sponsorship for orphans that will go through the university level.

And there’s more!

The girls (minus one--still inside with a child) in front of Springs of Hope

The girls (minus one–still inside with a child) in front of Springs of Hope

Mary was grateful for the diapers and formula and clothes we brought with us, but she was most excited about the love our girls showered on her children. Every single child there had one-on-one time. The girls fed the eight babies (one was less than a month old), and played nonstop with the toddlers—who also wanted some holding. One of our moms fed the home’s one child with special needs. Dennis contracted meningitis when he was three and is now deaf, dumb, blind, and crippled by cerebral palsy. Shawna (the mom) sat with him for hours, stroking his head and legs. Several of the girls joined her later and prayed over Dennis.

Mary and I

Mary and I

When the children went down for afternoon naps, we visited the site where the permanent home is being constructed. The grounds are partially fenced, and concrete footers are being poured. Then we took Mary out to lunch.

“You were meant to be here for this day,” Mary said when we expressed regret that we were only here for one day. “It is wonderful when they receive individual love. It makes a difference: They sleep better after they have received love like your girls gave them today,” Mary said. “They are calmer, like it filled them up.”

Holes for the concrete foundation for Springs of Hope's permanent home. These were dug by hand!

Holes for the concrete foundation for Springs of Hope’s permanent home. These were dug by hand!

 

an impromptu gathering with children just outside the gates to Springs of Hope's permanent site. Notice Rachel trying to roll a tire with two sticks. She was inspired by the village boys--who were experts at it!

an impromptu gathering with children just outside the gates to Springs of Hope’s permanent site. Notice Rachel trying to roll a tire with two sticks. She was inspired by the village boys–who were experts at it!

She added, “And it will make a difference in their development.”

Mary serves on Kenya’s adoption committee, and she works hard to find adoptive parents (both Kenyan and non-native) for her children. It’s paying off. Though many of our girls left the orphanage in tears this afternoon, their faces brightened when we told them that three of the children will be in permanent homes in the next two weeks.

I was amazed, absolutely amazed, at the incredible level of care at Springs of Hope. The best example is Dennis. It often takes the staff two hours simply to feed Dennis alone. When they told Shawna how to help him eat, they told her, “You must stroke his head when he eats. This is how we let him know he is loved.” They turn him two hours around the clock so he doesn’t get bedsores.

It was a good, good day.

Thank you, God.

Correction/items for prayer/praise:

  1. At breakfast this morning, I was corrected about the outcome of the basketball game we played yesterday. Evidently we actually did win, by one point. My apologies!
  2. Tomorrow we visit the Kibera Girls Soccer Academy in the heart of the Kibera slum. Kibera can be overwhelming with its level of poverty. Please pray that we will se God’s hand at work in Kibera and that we will truly be a testimony of Christ to the girls we will get to know tomorrow.
  3. If you would like more information on Springs of Hope and on how you could donate to its amazing ministry, visit www.entertheventure.com. That is the website of Venture Corps, a Stateside ministry that partners with Springs of Hope. Scroll down to the bottom of the front page and click on the “soh” tab there. You can make a donation through the website, earmark it for Springs of Hope, and Mary will get it. (The founders of Venture Corps are good friends of ours.)
  4. I’m really grateful for our health and safety tonight. God is faithful in sickness and through accidents, but I’m very, very grateful that no one has even gotten the slightest case of an upset stomach so far! Wow!
  5. By the way–wasn’t able to upload too many pics. Have some beautiful ones of the girls holding babies, but Mary asked that I not post any that showed children’s faces. The girls are getting some great pictures with their cameras/phones, but I plan to make a cd of all the pics I take for each of the girls.

Thanks for reading,
Jen

Day One in Africa

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“Why must it be so difficult?”

Eighth-grade Ann asked me that.

She wasn’t even talking about her life, though she might have been. Ann had been telling me her dream, which is to go to high school in the U.S. “Would that be possible?” she asked me.

I’ve had enough experience to know that you do NOT give the easy answer, so I said, “Well, you would have a much better chance studying in the U.S. if you finish both secondary school and university here in Kenya.”

It was then that, quietly, sadly, she said, “Why must it be so difficult?”

She could have chosen a much stronger word because, for Ann, it’s not just “difficult,” it’s nigh to impossible. You see, Ann is a student in a juvenile detention home/school outside Nairobi. She is receiving both vocational and academic training there from teachers who actually care. That’s good.

But all students must leave the school when they complete eighth grade, which Ann will soon do.

And that’s really bad, because after they leave, they are on their own.

With no income and no stable family.

The chances aren’t good that Ann will miraculously discover money for school fees and a uniform in her back pocket.

She doesn’t even have a pocket.

Later the same day we visited a private school about forty-five minutes away. And I spoke with a girl named Faith.

She had plans, this Faith, and a lot of faith that God would help her achieve them.

First will come university—beginning next term. She will major in biology because she is very, very interested in the sciences. Then she will become a surgeon.

She smiled at me. “I might even study some in the United States,” she said.

Yes, she might.

In one day I saw both, Faith and Ann. The difference between Faith’s story (as a representative of people like me) and Ann’s story (as it represents the 200 million orphans in the world) haunts me.

And it reminds me that this world is so very, very broken.

We have excess in some parts of the planet, and dire poverty in others—actually, I saw it today in the same city.

Our world is broken because we’re broken.

And because we’re broken, we’ve grabbed and grasped at all the wrong “stuff” and tried to fill ourselves happy with it.

I’m not just talking about us rich folks, whose income is in the top 2-3% in the world.

I’m talking about ALL of us. ALL of us.

Because, really, why does Ann want to study in the U.S. in the first place?

Stories like Ann’s should not only cause us to give and do (it’s a pretty clear directive in Scripture), they should cause us to listen to the message God’s been shouting at us ever since the third chapter of Genesis.

You’re broken!

You need a Savior!

I sent One.

Now turn to Me.

 

Dear Family and Friends of those of us on the Kenya/Uganda trip:

We had a WONDERFUL day. If I could remember the place names of where we were at, I would tell you, but I can’t, so…

We started the day at a juvenile detention home/school for girls aged 12-17. The teachers gave us a tour, we played soccer (the REAL football J) with them (tons of fun, though a bit nerve-wracking for our girls since they were terrified to step on their bare feet). It ended in a tie, so we had a shoot-out, which we won. The other team’s goalkeeper was quite bummed until I told her she had done a really good job. Okay, not true. I said that, but she was still bummed, but not for too long because then we had a snack and prayer together, and all the girls hung out (along with quite a few kids from the village).

Then it was across town to a private school where we spanked them on the soccer pitch.

But then they challenged us to basketball.

And though we held our own, they did win. Kind of helps when you have two Sudanese forwards who can touch the sky. Seriously.

The whole girls’ school was out to watch. And our girls mixed in and mingled and chatted and had an absolutely awesome time.

I can’t even tell you how proud we were of them. It was beautiful, simply beautiful.

We prayed together; they sang their evening hymn for us; and then we chatted some more.

Hopefully all the girls journal tonight because boy, howdy, do they have stories!

And I’ve got pictures.

But I haven’t yet downloaded them, and it’s now 11:33, and wisdom tells me I need to begin to catch up on all that sleep I missed. Especially since we spend tomorrow at the Springs of Hope Babies and Toddlers Home!

All for now,

Jen

24 hours to a different continent

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Greetings from Biblica Guesthouse in Nairobi, Kenya, Africa.

We left the house yesterday (that was Sunday, right?) at 2 p.m. Two flights and 24 hours later (okay, a little more than that, but I’m not counting little things like a couple extra hours), we were getting everyone settled into rooms at Biblica.

Just a few decades ago, it took weeks to get to Africa from the U.S.

But here we are!

There’s not a whole to write yet–other than we really did have great, uneventful travel and only one lost bag. Plus, it’s almost 1 in the morning here, and my alarm is set for 6:30, so I’d  better cut it short.

No pics yet, but I’m sure I will have plenty tomorrow night. We’re playing a girls’ team tomorrow and possibly holding a clinic.

We were met at the airport by Juanyuomo’s familiar grin and a hug from assistant coach Lauren’s Aunt Sandy, who is a missionary here in Nairobi. Don’t ask me how to spell Juan-ee’s name (that’s what Dave calls him), but he’s a great, funny guy who helped us the last time we were in Kenya with a team.

Three minutes of conversation with Aunt Sandy, and we discovered all kinds of people connections! Sometimes the world doesn’t seem quite as big.

But it’s big enough that I’m far away from my younger three kids–and I’m missing you rascals. Love and kisses to you, Jake, Mads, and my PJ.

Aunt Sandy prayed over our team tonight. One phrase stuck out to me: that we would love like Christ. Please pray that God would supernaturally equip our team of American teenage girls-beginning tomorrow. That we would not see mere cultural differences as right, wrong, or even strange, that we truly see others through eyes of respect and love. That we would discover that when two people love Christ–and know His love for them–there’s a family connection no matter how different their backgrounds are.

Signing out.

Jen

Countdown to Africa

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Dave, Emily, and I leave for Africa in four days! We are very grateful that the three of us are able to go together—what a privilege!

I’ll post updates on the trip right here on my (Jen’s) blog: www.jenunderwood.org. If I’m able, I’ll upload some pictures as well. Here’s a bit of what we’ll be doing:

WHO’S GOING?: Twelve of Dave’s soccer players will go on the trip, along with one of his assistant coaches (Lauren Lindner Anderson, who was a former player and student years ago), and two of the girls’ moms.

WHERE AND WHAT? We do have a schedule (though it’s pretty flexible, as it needs to be): In Kenya the girls will play several soccer matches, one of them with girls from the Kibera Girls Soccer Academy in the heart of the Kibera slum. Our girls will also attend classes with the KGSA students.

We have also connected—through Jody and Aaron Hoekstra—with a woman named Mary who started a babies and toddler home outside Nairobi. I had heard so many wonderful things about Mary from Aaron, and when the opportunity came up for us to visit her and her babies, we jumped at the chance.

In Uganda, of course, we will see Wilfred (the director of Mercy Childcare who helped so, so much with Patrick’s adoption), his beautiful wife, Vena, and their two young children.

In Jinja we will get to see a friend I worked with when we lived in Sterling, Kansas. Sarah now works as a designer and project director in Jinja, Uganda, and will show us the work she does with the African women who make crafts for her company.

A few more games, work with the soccer ministry run by Light the World Church in Kampala, processing/prayer time with the girls each night, a church service at LWC, a visit to a cancer hospital… It’s full, but not so planned that we cannot stop to help someone or spend more time with people or take a detour.

WHAT CAN YOU DO? We covet your prayers for this trip. We know that God uses trips like this in significant ways in teenagers’ lives, and we expect that from this trip as well (He uses it in our lives, too!). Please pray that all of us will be sensitive to the Holy Spirit’s leading on this trip and then beyond it when we return to Chicagoland. Pray that we will spread the sweetness of Christ wherever we go on our trip (including airports and guesthouses), and that we will be a true encouragement to the believers we work with. Pray that we will be a great support to these brothers and sisters in their Gospel work.

Thank you!

Dave, Jen, and Emily Underwood

Followup to “Living in Grace”

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After a break (brought on by my kids’ summer vacation), I’ve returned to memorizing Colossians 1. Verse 9 through 12 is one loooong sentence, and I’ve broken it down, phrase by phrase. In the process, I’ve realized it sheds grace-filled light on the guilt struggles I wrote about in my last blog post.

Verse 9 begins with the words, “For this reason,” so I looked at the verses above. Verses 3 through 8 are about the salvation of the Colossians: “You truly understood God’s grace,” Paul wrote. “(Your faith and love) “spring from the hope stored up for (you) in heaven.”

When our initial faith/salvation is described that way, it seems clear to me that the Christian life that follows faith/salvation should NOT be characterized by guilt and a sense of anxiety about “doing it right.”

Paul’s description of Christian living in verses 9-12 characterize it, too, as being full of grace and springing from hope. Paul starts by telling the Colossians that he and Barnabus “continually ask God to fill (them) with the knowledge of his will through the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives” (Col. 1:9b).

In other words, WE don’t try to figure out God’s will on our own; perhaps we don’t have to “find” it at all. We ask to be filled with the knowledge of His will. This involves an opening of our eyes to see spiritual reality, to see God at work. We ask to see the Big Picture and to get glimpses—through the Spirit’s guidance—of how our “small” lives fit into it.

What does that insight lead to? Verse 10 says it enables us to “live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God.” There’s not even a hint of guilt and anxiety here. There is instead a deepening knowledge of the God who loves to work good–who loves to work His good through us!

The next verse (11) seems to acknowledge that all this—though beautiful—is not easy for us limited humans. We so easily forget and get sidetracked from God’s goodness and His will to work good. Paul says we must be “strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that (we) may have great endurance and patience.”

And what is the final result of all this work of filling, knowing, living, pleasing? “(G)iving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified (us) to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light.” (verse 12)

A lack of joy in my spirit should be a clue that I am off track in my pursuit of God’s will, that I have begun to think of pleasing God in terms of lists and places rather than in knowing and being led by Him. A sense of guilt is a clear indicator that I have forgotten that it is all HIS work and that He loves to work in and through me. Paul reminds us of this in verses 13 and 14: “For He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

God’s generosity in the middle of my mess

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I posted about “the mess that is me” on Thursday morning and then had a horrifically messy mothering day. Okay, maybe “horrific” is too strong, but by the afternoon I was whining like a petulant child. “God, why on earth did you give me four children when I have no real nurturing skills? Not only am I going crazy, but I’ve got to be damaging them! I fuss at them for using snotty tones with each other, but they’re only copying mine. And then I get frustrated and yell! They’re going to be scarred for life.”

Guilt to frustration, frustration to guilt—back and forth the pendulum swung.

Dave came home near the end of my apologizing to Jake. Jake gave me one of his incredibly grace-filled hugs and left and Dave asked, “What’s up?”

I explained: argument between children; I’d intervened; was fussing at PJ for breaking his promise—again—to his brother and sister; then Jake interrupted, twice; and I yelled at Jake. My conclusion: “I’m an awful mom!”

To which my husband said, “Hon, kids are resilient and God is good. They’re fine—and you need some time alone. I’ll leave ahead of you (

Judy and Kelly, our international daughters, have been home with their parents for almost a week now. Em made these brownies for them just before they left. Love you, girls!

Judy and Kelly, our international daughters, have been home with their parents for almost a week now. Em made these brownies for them just before they left. Love you, girls!

end-of-season soccer party for the high school team Dave coaches) and I’ll take some of the kids with me.”

We had this conversation in the basement bathroom, where I was getting ready. For about five minutes after, there were the usual back-and-forth sounds on the floor above me. Then, suddenly, nothing! None of PJ’s running/stalking footsteps (how can a kid who only weighs 45 pounds make so much noise just walking?), no music blasting, no singing, no talking. Dave had taken all four kids plus the extra friend with him!

Silence. I breathed deep and gave thanks and took my time getting to the party.

When I arrived, I hung out with several soccer mothers and decided to be honest when asked, “How was your day?”

Several gave honest answers in return and real conversation rather than small talk happened. Women a few years further along in their mothering journey shared real advice and they did NOT tell me to “treasure these years—they pass so fast.” (Not that it isn’t true—it’s often just not real helpful in the middle of it.)

At the end of the evening, I left refreshed—and more grateful.

After the kids were in bed, I checked email and found a link to a blog post by Donald Miller in my inbox: “How to Avoid a People Hangover” (here’s the link: http://storylineblog.com/2013/06/04/how-to-avoid-a-people-hangover/), an article about how he, as an introvert, has to have his alone time. I read it to Dave. “This is me!” I said.

He gave me the look. “Haven’t I been telling you that for years?”

“Yes, but I’ve always felt guilty for needing alone time, but when I hear it from someone who also needs it—who feels drained creatively when he doesn’t get it—it’s like permission.”

He gave the look again.

I fully believe that motherhood is a calling from God.

But it’s GOD’s calling. By that I mean that HE is ultimately responsible for it, and though he’s called me to be one of the two primary caregivers for these four, He doesn’t expect me to never take a break.

In fact, He made me to need alone time.

Donald Miller affirms that he needs time away from people. I call kids “people on steroids.” At 9, 9, and 7 (and sometimes even at almost 13), they don’t understand boundaries; the bathroom is still not off limits; when they call “Mo-om,” I’m magically supposed to answer, no matter what.

That’s all good, wonderfully good.

But so is the fact that I’m an introvert who feels re-charged with alone time.

And God knows all that.

How good, how incredibly good He was to me on this quite-messy past Thursday. He knew what I needed and He provided it.

And in my being able to receive, I learned more about how generous He is, right in the middle of my messiness.

Let my words be few

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The plan--hatched between PJ and Dad--was for him to pick red--for the Chicago Bulls, of course. But PJ saw the BRIGHT orange and was hooked. So Dave drew a Bears symbol on instead!

The plan–hatched between PJ and Dad–was for him to pick red–for the Chicago Bulls, of course. But PJ saw the BRIGHT orange and was hooked.
So Dave drew a Bears symbol on instead!

I was lecturing–again. I don’t even remember which child it was, but behind him or her, Dave was signaling “STOP”: running his forefinger cutthroat along his neck; then putting his hands up, palms facing me; finally using the choir director’s sign for “and end.”

I got the hint, finally, and said, “Okay, I’m done.” I looked at the child. “Do you understand? Really?” Dave began the cycle of motions again.

The child left, and my shoulders sagged. “Suggestions?” I asked Dave. “I feel like I say the same things over and over and over.”

“And you say them well,” he said. “Too well. You say it, and then you add an illustration, and then you think of another way to say it, and then their eyes are glazing over. Must be the writer in you. Try fewer words.”

Funny how my mouth hasn’t caught up with the lessons my fingers have had to learn.

I used to hate writing word counts. I remember the first time an editor told me a piece had to be drastically reduced in length. There’s no way, I thought. That will ruin it!

It didn’t. In fact, it made it tighter, cleaner. Now I consider word counts a challenge and, eventually–when the cutting is complete, a real blessing to the overall piece.

It’s harder with the words we say, though. With writing, I can let it all out and then cut it before anyone else reads it. We can’t, however, rewind the words we say. Any revision, editing, or cutting has to be done BEFORE they leave our mouths.

“Let your words be few,” Solomon says in Ecclesiastes 5:2. He’s referring to prayer, but I think it’s a good mantra for us whenever we find ourselves with a runaway tongue. 

So many sins are related to what we say–and it’s usually because we talk too MUCH, not too little. Sometimes we have diarrhea of the mouth–completely unfiltered and unchecked (this makes me think of the illustration in James 3 of the tongue as a raging fire). Sometimes we are like a dripping faucet, nagging incessantly. Other times we may not be guilty of unkindness with our words, but we certainly can’t be accused of thoughtfulness either. Like a shallow stream our words gush on and on without much substance.

Proverbs 18:4 says, “Wise words are like deep waters; wisdom flows from the wise like a bubbling brook.” This contrasts what Job said about his very talkative friends. “You’re like unseasonable brooks that dry up in hot weather,” he told them.

Our words should come from a well of wisdom dug by the Holy Spirit. They should come forth, not in a gush but in a gentle flow. I get the impression that deep thought has taken place in the well BEFORE there is any output. The result is that the words are refreshing and helpful. Even reproof comes out of this wisdom, and encouragement is its underlying motivation.

Thought before speech; a gentle flow rather than a flood.

In other words, I need to think about my word count in my speech just as I do in my writing.

This makes sense, doesn’t it! How on earth will my children remember a lesson expressed in a torrent of words, no matter how well it is expressed. But simple directives or statements–like the Proverbs–have a better chance of sticking.

Our household rule for words is pretty simple: “If it won’t do good, don’t say it. If it WILL, DO.” I say this rule to my kids often enough that they tend to recite it with me when I start it. Sometimes THEY start it.

It’s a good rule for me to follow too.

Except I need to add “And then STOP!” at the end of it!

 

 

A few more verses about words:

Set a guard, O LORD, over my mouth; Keep watch over the door of my lips. Psalm 141:3

In the multitude of words sin is not lacking, But he who restrains his lips is wise. Proverbs 10:19

A word aptly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver. Proverbs 25:11

Whoever has no rule over his own spirit is like a city broken down, without walls. Proverbs 25:28

When she speaks, her words are wise, and she gives instructions with kindness. Proverbs 31:26

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer. Psalm 19:41

Then Judas and Silas, both being prophets, spoke at length to the believers, encouraging and strengthening their faith. Acts 15:32

Even a fool is counted wise when he holds his peace; When he shuts his lips, he is considered perceptive.  Proverbs 17:28

 

Heads up!

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Here's our flooded backyard! But our basement is dry. Very grateful! a lot of people around here are flooded!

Here’s our flooded backyard! But our basement is dry. Very grateful! a lot of people around here are flooded!

As I read the devotional Jesus Calling early this morning, one particular sentence stood out to me: “I (God) designed you to need Me moment by moment.”

Hmm, I thought, that is the complete opposite of human parenting–or at least of my version of it. I am trying to get my children to be less dependent on me, to be more self-sufficient each year, to increase their problem-solving skills. I often tell them, “Before you call ‘Mo-om!’ immediately, ask yourself if you can do this on your own.”

But God wants me to be more aware of my dependence on Him, more aware of my lack of self-sufficiency and of my inability to control anything.

I jotted these thoughts in my journal, worked out, made sure all the kids were up and moving, fixed Patrick’s breakfast… and then learned that school was cancelled because of all the flooding in our area. My kids literally went off like fireworks. I think you could have heard them from the street.

Was I happy for them?

This bird seemed a little confused by all the water. So it perched on our back deck (and, yes, those are still Christmas lights. Honest, though, all the other Christmas stuff has been put away for ages.)

This bird seemed a little confused by all the water. So it perched on our back deck (and, yes, those are still Christmas lights. Honest, though, all the other Christmas stuff has been put away for ages.)

Ye-es.

But I must admit I had to readjust my idea of the day I thought I was going to have. Better get ready to hear “Mom!” all day long, I told myself.

And then I laughed! Because I remembered Jesus Calling and my lesson of the morning.

It was very nice of Him to give me a heads-up!

a tired day

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This is the rain on my car sunroof today.

This is the rain on my car sunroof today.

I’m tired.

I’ve pumped caffeine into my system, but still… I’m tired.

The day is tired: wet and dreary, windy and dark.

The weather is tired. Unlike last year—when Spring sprung early—she is tardy with a capital T this year. The tree limbs are dark and bare and it’s downright cold out there.

Our schedule is tired: on top of the usual studying, teaching, writing, five of the eight of us are either coaching or playing soccer on four different teams and I’m directing a small play. And the poor boys get dragged around to everything—and that makes them tired.

If I were to let myself be swayed completely by my feelings and the lack of sunlight, I’d just crawl under my down comforter (which is STILL necessary!) and not come out for a good long while. Maybe I’d read a book and pretend myself into a sunlit world.

I’m really, really, really glad that the way I feel doesn’t change YOU, God.

You are the same: yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

No matter what the weather.

(And no matter how busy Your schedule!)

Check this out! please!

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Hi everyone,

I am TOO busy right now to do what I just did.

But I couldn’t help it.

For one of the articles I’m currently working on, I interviewed a man whose daughter died of cancer a little over two years ago. She was just a few years older than I am. He mentioned that she blogged and that, in his opinion, she was a wonderful writer and was still helping people go through difficult times through her blog.

So, being a good researcher (ha ha), I checked it out.

And I can’t stop reading it!

Laurie Jane is a wonderful writer! I feel like I know her through her blog, and I am definitely looking this woman up when I get to heaven!

So I wanted to pass it on. Here’s the link to the latest post, which, I’m just warning you, made me cry, because it’s written by one of her friends announcing Laurie Jane’s homegoing: http://beautyliesinthetruestory.blogspot.com/

But if you want to start at the beginning and read how this funny, sassy, deep woman dealt with terrible, terrible pain and trials and how she drew closer to Jesus through it, here’s the link to the very first page of blog entries: http://beautyliesinthetruestory.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2009-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&updated-max=2009-06-15T16:09:00-07:00&max-results=50&start=98&by-date=false

I’m hoping this helps someone–besides me–today.

Thanks for reading,

Jen